surely must have had romantic intentions at one time. Yet, he hardly ever left the palace and had never kept the company of a lady for more than a short time. Regaining his composure, Hanlin began again. "Lady Nolan is therefore a Treborelan by birth, even though she has lived her entire life in Lon Tesse. Her uncle, as you well know, is the Regent Dana's Foreign Advisor. Lady Nolan is a Pediatric Surgeon. She will be taking a short vacation with her Uncle and the Lon Tesse Royal family before beginning her practice in the capital city of Lavose. They will both be at the Regent's mountain retreat during the Continental Alliance Summit, which you are to attend."
"Treborel has no need for Physicians, Hanlin. She would feel out of place and inferior to our Empathic Healers." Katar stated, bored at the idea of another introduction to an appropriate prospective bride.
The cultured young women of the court to which Katar had been introduced had been vain and ambitious. Each were determined to bed him in an attempt to achieve the title of Queen of Treborel. Their constant primping and idle conversation bored him. Although Enda was also extremely vain she expressed no wish to become Queen. Neither did she try to engage him in the latest court gossip. Instead, she was a sensual ornament he could display, that had the capacity to bring laughter to his eyes at the most inappropriate moments.
Hanlin’s voice broke into his thoughts, "All I ask is that you meet with her and consider her seriously as a prospective bride. If there is a problem with her career I'm sure we could work something out, however impractical and unnecessary the position may seem. As you recall your father gave up the crown of Latria for your mother. The Queen has dedicated her life to fulfilling your father’s dreams of establishing permanent ties with the rest of the planet. She would be in favor of such an endeavor as creating a bond with Treborel, through marriage.” Katar crossed to Hanlin and handed him the small glass of ale. Taking a sip, Hanlin added one last thought, "If Lady Nolan is half as beautiful and intelligent as her grandmother, and I think you will be quite pleased."
A dozen reasons came to mind why the undertaking would not succeed. Every nation on the planet considered the Empaths to be an archaic fantasy. Katar fully expected the young Surgeon to insult the ancient art of healing by touch, condemning it before even attempting to understand the practice. Holding back his thoughts, Katar knew there was no sense in agitating Hanlin further. Katar’s father had taken Hanlin on as his advisor when Katar was a young boy. The elderly statesman became Katar's confident and friend upon his father's death slightly over 10 years ago.
"Alright, Hanlin. If I find no fault in her and if she finds me acceptable, I promise I will consider a betrothal." Katar agreed reluctantly.
Furious, Enda glared through the small opening in the door. She clenched her fists and wished Hanlin a horrible death. The solution to her financial situation was far overshadowed by the way Katar had cast her aside so easily. For three years she had primped and thrown herself at this arrogant Prince's feet, hanging on his every word. She would not let him slip through her fingers, not now. As Hanlin rose from his seat, Enda turned and hurried down the long hall.
For the first time since Hanlin arrived in the study, Katar saw him smile. With considerable pride, the Advisor took his leave. Katars stern gaze followed him, his thoughts full. Katar would keep his word but he planned to make very sure Lady Lysette Nolan would not find him acceptable. Hanlin went out the study door and headed down the carpeted hall, catching a glimpse of Enda's dark green dress as she rounded the far corner. Considering that she might be the only element that could spoil his plans for the prince, he hurried to catch her.
"Hanlin!” Katar's booming voice came from behind him, delaying his lecture to the promiscuous widow. "I completely forgot to tell you that Commander Connor is arriving this evening from Bantor. I invited King William on a sraeb hunt. He declined; it seems the mere idea of leaving the palace sends him into severe paranoia. He's sending Commander Connor in his stead, to build relations between our two governments. If we can strike up an agreement, perhaps