Only the Prince of India remained of all the knights who had fought. He said he was not well, and wanted a rest before he set out for India, which was a long way off. So he stopped and rested, and the winter changed to summer, and the summer to autumn, and he was still there, and he did not seem as if he were likely to go either. The time slipped away quietly enough, and no more was heard of Merrymineral—not even a word. One day when the Lords of the Council had finished sitting for the day, and were departing, Lord Licec remained, as he always did when he had anything private to say to the Princess. So she said:
‘Well, my lord, what is it that you wish to tell to me to-day?’
‘I had come, your Majesty, to make a suggestion to you that it would be greatly to the good of the nation if your Majesty would condescend to think about marrying some one.’
The Princess was so startled that she quite jumped:
‘Marry any one! good gracious me, whom am I to marry? I don’t know any one that I like at all.’
Lord Licec stroked his chin:
‘That is rather a drawback,’ he said; ‘but I had thought that perhaps the Prince of India might——’
But the Princess interrupted him:
‘Oh, he would never do; besides he would have to ask me, and he won’t do that.’