Don't watch the door

Anyone else or any other speech would have sent the room running, screaming insults at you and your kingdom as they left or defected from your kingdom, but no, Sir Dietrich's masterful words lit a competitive spirit in the families over their ability to produce the best heir. From just outside the second entrance, you can hear the fathers begin to argue.

"With all due respect, King Thomas, you should withdraw your daughters. I'm sure my daughter will produce the best heir."

A second deeper voice shot through the room, " My good lord, my daughters are the best in my country. No one can match their potential! For my bloodline is the truest in our county, and has no equal, so for your own sake, I suggest you withdraw."

A third shot fired: "If you're so confident, then put all your daughters forward, and on my honor, my daughter will best them all."

A fourth, sharper and more ****: "If you are so assured of your stock, put forth all your touted daughters at once, and I will wager my daughter's honor against theirs! The king himself will declare the victor! And you will see my daughter will bear the next royal!"

Within moments, the challenge grows into a cacophony, as each patriarch boasted about their lineage while doing their best to insult without causing as internation incident. This continues for a full four or five minutes before the room goes silent, leaving you wondering how many, if any, took the challenge and stayed.

Sir Dietrich, still beaming with the unctuous pride of a man who has successfully navigate something that would normally be such an internally incident that could possibly lead to a grand war, and had it lead to where everyone is happy, bows at the threshold to you, "If you would, my king, let me enter first and explain what is happening to whoever is left."

Still awestruck by the outcome, you wave your hand in acceptance, "As you will, my loyal servant."

Sir Dietrich vanishes through the heavy doors, leaving you to fidget with the royal seal ring that barely fits your hand do to it still being made for your father, and not yet being recast. Dietrich returns after a span measured only in heartbeats, his face a pallid mask, lips pursed so tightly that his mustache vibrates with every exhale. "Your Majesty," Dietrich whispers, "there is a serious complication. We have… twenty-three women in the ballroom proper."

You counted everyone that pass, and there were only 20 nobles. "What!!! How were commoners able to sneak in? Don’t we have the finest of guards, standing on the outer doors!"

Sir Dietrich is in a fright, as he shakes his head, "No, not commoners, sire; mix among the hopefuls… is none other than your father's mistress,”

You sit down heavily on the nearest bench, the signet ring biting your knuckle. “How did my father’s sexual distraction manage to wiggle her way in?”

Sir Dietrich whispers, “That is not the worst of it, Sire. Not by far.” He swallows, and for the first time, you notice how truly concerned he is. “If it was just her, I could talk her presence away as someone who is there to help them transition to your bed… but no none other than your mother and sister is also mingling among the female guests.”

The space between you fills in with silence as the genuine gravity of the meaning of what he just said sinks in before you snap, "What?! Why didn't anyone tell them what was happening? So, they knew not to be present."

Sir Dietrich is ashamed. "I'm sorry, sir, we didn’t invite them, but we couldn’t tell them about our plan. If we did, your mother would have put a halt to our plan for sure. So had **** but to leave her in the dark."

"Will make them leave." you hiss, voice slicing the air like a saber. "Send them out the back or through the kitchens. I don’t care how you do it. Just get them out of there before anyone realizes.”

Dietrich doesn’t move. His throat pulsates as he swallows, hands now knotted together so tightly that the knuckles turn ghost-pale. "I'm sorry, sir, but all eyes are fixed on the ballroom. If someone were to sneak out now, it would cause a scandal. If the scandal breaks out, it could cause a political nightmare, no matter who it is. If two people tried to sneak and both were members of the royal family, there is no fathoming the cost it would incur, considering what others had already offered. Anyway, all the candidates have already met and begun to mingle so they have already been seen."

In fact, you can't remember much about your mother, Queen Beatrice, who was only 19 years older than you. Since you were planning to go off to the church, she did not spend much time with you. And your sister, Princess Elizabeth, who was only a year younger than you, was far to busy being groomed as a noble lady to spend time with you. It's also wasn't like you grew up with them. Since you came back, you may have seen both of them for a collective two hours at most. So, it was more a political nightmare than a social one.

"Well then," you say, after a long, dead silence, "just make them last on the list." A cunning plan forms as you speak, born of desperation rather than logic. "If they’re last, then by the time their turn comes up, thy royal seed has bound to have taken root in one of the other ‘hopefuls’ I’ll never have to… engage intercourse with them. As such, we can let them go with both their bodies and honor intact."

Despite your joy over your plan, Sir Dietrich does not seem encouraged by your grand plan as he looks down in discouragement. "I am so, so sorry, my king," he breathes, "but the pairings cannot be shuffled that way. To do so would be an insult to all noble bloods, and we have already pushed the nobles to their limit, so any more changes might set them off. No, they must go in order of noble blood. The former King Richard married a noble, and so did King Thomas, while your grandmother on your mother's side was a princess, making your mother and sister tied for the highest percentage for royal blood in the room. Then followed by King Thomas’s sires."