“Father—”

“Let me hear no argument, Gavril. My mind is set. You’ll propose, and that’s an end to it. Come morning, I want to be awakened with the news of a betrothal.” Gavril hated being coerced into this. “May I not gain her acquaintance first?”

“Why should you? You’ve known her since childhood.”

“I did not like her when we were children.”

“Then learn to like her now!” the king shouted. “Damne, what ails you? She’s here, available, and ambitious to be queen.”

“Too ambitious, perhaps,” Gavril murmured. He didn’t want a clever, perceptive wife, one possibly both intelligent and resourceful. She might become more popular at court than he, and the thought of that was unbearable.  The king was staring at him angrily. “Do you refuse my direct command?”