And the dungeon-" "-needs a new rack," the King finished. "I'll think about it. What else?"

The elf consulted his list. "The nightshades are becoming a problem in the northeast."

"Nightshades are always a problem. Is that all?"

"Ah…" Willin cleared his throat, then cleared it again. "There is the matter of Your Majesty's marriage."

"What marriage?" Mendanbar asked, alarmed.

"Your Majesty's marriage to a lady of suitable parentage," Willin said firmly. He pulled another scroll from inside his vest. "I have here a list of possible choices, which I have compiled after a thorough survey of the lands surrounding the Enchanted Forest."

"You made a survey? Willin, you haven't been talking to that dreadful woman with all the daughters, have you? Because if you have I'll . . . I'll use you to test out that new rack you want so badly."

"Queen Alexandra is an estimable lady," Willin said severely. "And her daughters are among the loveliest and most accomplished princesses in the world. I have not, of course, talked to the Queen about the possibility, but any one of her daughters would make a suitable bride for Your Majesty."

He tapped the scroll meaningfully.

"Suitable? Willin, all twelve of them put together don't have enough common sense to fill a teaspoon! And neither have you, if you think I'm going to marry one of them."

Willin sighed. "I did hope Your Majesty would at least consider the idea."

"Then you weren't thinking straight," the King said firmly. "After all the trouble I've had…"

"Perhaps Your Majesty's experiences have given you a biased view of the matter."

"Biased or not, I'm not going to marry anyone any time soon.

Particularly not an empty-headed princess, and especially not one of Queen Alexandra's daughters. So you can stop bringing it up every day.