This… was a pain. Aysel would admit to herself as she sat on her mighty throne looking rather crestfallen with a scroll clenched in her hand. She needed to marry. Didn’t matter who. She just did. She was what?- 34 years old and never once really sat down to look through the current suiters? Well- yes. But she refused to take any full blame due to the war in the East constantly threatening to bring chaos down onto her kingdom eating up all of her attention. Aysel was stolen from her swirling thoughts as her advisor, James; a calm but young man, came into her throne room from the side door. “My lady”, he started with a respectful bow. “They’re waiting in the ballroom for you. Three of them. All from powerful kingdoms.”, He briskly explained. Aysel silently got up, her beautifully prepared dress’s hem just barely touching the ground as she strode forwards into the ballroom, only partially ready to meet her possible suiters.