Neither option would appeal to him, but one was far more acceptable than the other.
As Celina told Elise she was finished, it came to her.
She could marry Frederick.
5
This was getting him nowhere.
Frederick had just finished another lunch with another eligible woman, someone who would be considered acceptable to the old guard, but modern enough for the younger generation to accept willingly.
And she was... fine.
There was nothing inherently wrong with her - or most of the other young women he'd met with.
But there was no... spark. No hint that there would ever be anything but friendship between them at most. He wanted more than that. Not only because of the children they were expected to have, but because he wanted more from a lifetime commitment. He wanted...
A sigh escaped without a conscious decision for him to do so. He didn't know for certain what - or who - he really wanted. All he really knew was that he was running out of time to make a decision.
Given that this situation was one where no decision was a decision, he needed to get it figured out.
"Sir?" George brought him back to the present.
Frederick leaned forward and rested both of his hands on the conference table. Photos of each of the women along with key details about them were scattered on top of it.
"Let's start with the ones that can definitely be eliminated," George suggested.
With a nod, Frederick moved five off to the side. After looking over them for another moment, he moved three more.
"Very good, sir. That's a start." George picked them up and moved them to a file folder before rearranging the ones still on the table into neat rows. "Out of these, are there any who can be eliminated?"
With a growl, Frederick pushed off the table and ran his hands through his hair. "This is no way to decide who I want to spend the rest of my life with."
"I agree..."
"And so will the people of Southern Santiero. And so will the woman I eventually narrow this down to. This is ridiculous."
None of the women had explicitly been told he was looking for a wife, but the whispers had turned to full-blown rumors then unofficially confirmed reports discussed extensively in local media. They all knew.
Which helped eliminate a few of them. They were clearly only interested in the title and prestige and jewels and other accoutrements that came with becoming queen.
A couple of others were eliminated because he had a hard time carrying on a conversation with them for a meal, much less a lifetime. Two were way too brash and presumptive. Three more decided that being coquettish would be the way to win his heart - or at least his ring. If there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was being manipulated.
Of those who remained, none stood out in any capacity - good or bad.
"Who were the best conversationalists?" George asked.
Frederick moved most of the remaining photos to the side, leaving four in consideration. They all were polite and refined, good conversationalists, and he knew they would acclimate to the responsibilities of a queen. It would take some time, but it would happen.
"Do any of these four stand out?"
He stared at them - two with dark brown hair, one with blond, and another with light brown. Definitely not the main criteria for choosing a wife, but attractiveness in general wasn't to be discounted. At least his perception of their attractiveness.
The photos started to swim together as he found himself unable to focus on all of them - or even just one.
Instead, he turned and walked to the window looking out over the city. If his father were still alive, he wouldn't be facing this kind of decision. It wouldn't matter when he married, as long as he married before becoming king.
His father wasn't to blame. Frederick knew the illness that took him in a matter of months couldn't be stopped. He knew his father would have preferred to grow old with his wife, mentor his children, and play with his grandbabies.
