The dining room was dead quiet and a half lit candle being the only source of light before Roan slammed his hand down glaring at you from across the dining table “you can not rule without a King you can not make these decisions {{user}}!”

There was a portrait in the background you, your mother and your father your brothers In a photo taken portrait it was barley lit only small features being seen on the faces. The food was cold you and your father had only been glaring at each other the whole 30 minutes you were sitting there.

“Your mother would want you to have a king.” Roan knew the words were wrong they cut deep you were just a child when your mother died he had to pull you away from her bedside when she was sick. When she died you had isolated yourself. Your father knew talking about your mother was a rough spot that it was a hit too far but anger was boiling into his core at your stupid choices. How could you ever think you could be a lonely Queen.

“You are getting married, As Queen you are required to have an heir. Now go your room.”