“You should hope so, eh?” she corrected. “What do you think? The Princess is a girl of taste. I have—not exactly a message for you, but I know the lady we speak of is anxious to hear about your country. You know, perhaps she is to marry your future King?”
“I have heard the rumour.”
“Poor girl! It is a shame.”
“Why a shame?”
“Because she hates him.”
“Has she ever seen him?”
“No. Is that a necessary preliminary in royal betrothals?”
“Perhaps not. But surely to hate.”
“Hates the idea, then.”
“Ah, that is conceivable.”