The Kings Quest for Love

The throne room basked in the morning glow, sunlight streaming through the intricate stained-glass windows, painting the marble floors with hues of crimson and gold. The grandeur of the space, with its soaring ceilings and ornate decor, was matched only by the palpable tension in the air.

At the center of it all sat King Alex, a man of imposing presence and a reputation as sharp as his glare. He leaned forward on his throne, fingers steepled, brow furrowed in deep thought. His advisors stood nearby, everyone stilled by the king's ominous silence. They exchanged nervous glances, each silently hoping they wouldn't be the one to disturb his contemplation.

Suddenly, Alex straightened in his seat, his eyes wide with an idea. His movement was so abrupt that the advisors took an involuntary step back. Alex's hand shot upward, pointing decisively toward the heavens.

"I have made my decision," he announced, his voice echoing through the cavernous room.

The advisors stiffened. They had learned to brace themselves for these moments. Alex's decisions often carried consequences-usually for someone else.

He rose from his throne, his robes flowing dramatically behind him as if stirred by an unseen wind. His expression was one of stern resolve, his movements theatrical yet commanding. He reached into his robes and withdrew a tightly rolled parchment.

It wasn't particularly long, but its importance was undeniable. The royal seal glinted in the morning light as he held it aloft for all to see. The advisors exchanged uneasy looks. Whatever was written on that parchment was unlikely to bode well for them-or for anyone else.

Clearing his throat, Alex began to unroll the parchment with deliberate drama.

"This," Alex declared, "is my list of requirements for the perfect bride!"

The advisors are quite puzzled. Could the King really wish for a bride? King Alex was a stern King that hardly let any mistake pass by without sufficient punishment on the offender, usually the punishment was banishment from the most thriving Kingdom in the East, Matgrail, the Kingdom which Alex ruled. Could he really have the patience to wed a female human with such an authoritative and non-tolerant attitude? That was the question that all his advisers had in their minds.

"She must have a distinctive laugh," Alex began, pausing for emphasis. "One that sounds like cheerful bells in the morning."

A small, squeaky bell on a nearby shelf gave an indignant shake, as if personally offended.

"She must stand precisely five feet, six inches tall-no more, no less."

One advisor instinctively glanced down at his own shoes, though his height was clearly irrelevant.

"She could have a small scar-just enough to prove she has an adventurous spirit." Alex held up his fingers to demonstrate the acceptable size. "This big, no larger! Any smaller, and it doesn't count!"

The advisors exchanged bewildered looks.

"And dimples!" Alex added triumphantly. "But only on one side."

As the list went on, the advisors' unease deepened. One particularly nervous advisor felt his mind wander to a not-so-distant memory.

It had been a peaceful afternoon in the palace, or so he had thought. A servant carrying tea had made the mistake of spilling a single drop on the marble floor. The silence that followed had been deafening.

King Alex's reaction had been swift. His finger shot out dramatically, pointing at the unfortunate servant.

"BANISHED!" Alex had proclaimed with such fervor that the advisor could still hear the echo in his nightmares.

The servant, their family, their cat, their houseplants, and even their furniture had been escorted from the palace grounds within the hour. The memory was enough to make the advisor shudder and stay quiet even though he had something to say about this absurd list. He couldn't risk interrupting the King in his speech.

Back in the present, Alex continued reading, oblivious to the growing discomfort around him.

"She must know how to play at least three instruments," Alex declared, his eyes gleaming. "And play them all at once, if possible!"

The nervous advisor barely suppressed a wince, imagining the horrifying auditions that would follow.

"She must know the constellations by heart," Alex continued, "and have a singing voice as beautiful as mine!"

He paused for effect, then pointed dramatically at the painted stars on the ceiling before launching into an impromptu performance.

The result was less than inspiring. Birds outside the palace scattered in alarm. The painted stars seemed to dim, and the advisors winced, valiantly pretending to be moved by the "performance."

Only one advisor shed a tear, though not for the reasons Alex might have hoped.

When the song mercifully ended, Alex rolled up the parchment with a decisive snap. "This is how we shall secure the future of our kingdom!"

The advisors' horrified faces betrayed their thoughts, though none dared to speak. Instead, they plastered on strained smiles and offered murmurs of approval.

Satisfied, Alex sat back in his throne, a confident smile playing on his lips. "Make the announcement," he commanded.

Outside the palace, a notice was soon posted for all to see:

"Wanted: Perfect Bride (Must Not Be 5'5.9")."

It was signed, of course, by His Majesty, King Alex.

And so began the kingdom's most ambitious-and absurd-search for a queen.