Clicking his tongue, deep in thought, Trion eventually waved his hand in dismissal.

"No, Halver, see her out, she just isn't good enough. No, not good enough".

Sighing, Halver, the chief executive of Chateau d'Oraguille, home of the elvaan royal family, escorted the young hume lady from the room, muttering apologies under his breath for the eldest prince of San d'Oria's rudeness. He wondered how long it would take to find the prince a woman who would be fit to marry him. Surely, he thought to himself, it isn't a difficult matter, but the prince is just so...well, haughty, and arrogant. Not to mention a raving narcissist. It's a wonder he hadn't married himself in fact.

"Your highness, might I propose a suggestion?" he asked, turning to face the prince. "Might it be a good idea if your highness perhaps, disn't dismiss every young lady who came before him without even so much as asking her name?"

"What? Why would I do that, Halver, they have all been frightful dogs so far. Dogs, I say".

"Your highness", persisted Halver, "our agent has gathered the finest young ladies in the whole of Vana'diel to present to you, but you have been exceedingly...insulting".

Trion looked aghast. "Halver! The one doing the insulting here is your agent! Why, that third one he presented had a wonky nose! Wonky! I have never seen such...and then! Then the next one was a taru! Why I ought to have that unruly bum arrested and thrown into the Oubliette! And just then, that..you know, the hairy one. I swore she was a galka masquerading as a woman!"

Halver tried to hide a grin. "Well, there was a rather...masculine vibe to her, yes. But she is very rich your highness. Why, your combined wealth could ensure no San d'Orian ever went hungry again."

"Or it could start a war with Windurst. Sweet Altana, I hate those Windurstian's, almost as much as I hate eccentric galka lady boys masquerading as women to become my wife. That pompous midget woman, the one with the glasses, and the stupid hat, Halver, what was her name again?"

"...The Star Sybil, your highness?"

"Yes that was it, mercy have you ever seen someone so short. And ugly! Dear me, and she was so short too! What about the psychotic one? You know, the crazy rambler?"

"Shantotto, your highness?"

Trion slammed his fist down on his comfy throne's armrest for emphasis. "Yes that crazy bitch! Why I'll show them what for, I will!"

Halver buried his face in his hands. "Your highness. Please. We still have one young lady for you to see. Are you ready?"

Trion sunk into a slouch and pouted. "Yes. Yes, alright, let's get it over with".

Halver exited for a moment, and then returned, followed by a portly young elvaan woman, wearing an elegant dress, her hair flowing like a gentle river, with eyes a deep deep blue. She curtsied before the prince, smiling at him, revealing rows of crooked teeth.

Trion stared for a moment, and then shuddered. "Oh. Oh, heaven's no".

"Miss Jenifer Astley, your highness. Daughter of Helbort, the weapon shop owner in South San d'Oria", said Halver, introducing her.

"How do you do", muttered Trion, barely even looking at her.

Unphased, Jenifer addressed the prince. "It is an honour, your highness".

"Course it is", replied Trion, haughtily. "My astounding looks are matched only by my keen wit and strategic battle prowess. All know the excellence, of his excellence, Prince Trion"! he exclaimed, getting rather over excited. "And you are?"

"Oh..er, Jenifer Astley...your highness", replied Jenifer, taken aback by the sudden uproar from the prince.

"I see!" exclaimed Trion. "And why are you here?!"

Jenifer turned to Halver, a look of confusion and annoyance on her face. "He forgot who I am, and why I am here already?" she asked with disdain.

"Yes, well, er you see, he rather works himself up a bit, when he talks about himself, you see" babbled Halver, embarassment overcoming him. "Forgets who people are and other such nonsense".

Trion was now sitting back to front on his throne, riding it eratically as if it were some noble steed, charging him into battle. Waving his arms about frantically, he started shouting at the top of his voice. "Die Windurstian dogs! Have at thee! I'll splice your gullet and rip out your gizzards, ha!"

"I don't believe this!" yelled Jenifer at Trion. "What kind of prince are you?! This great nation has surely been brought to ruin with a royal successor as stupid as you!"

Turning his head around, Trion retorted with spite. "Stupid? Ha! Silence, you marid of a woman, lay off the mithkabobs and waddle back to from whence you came!"

Crying, Jenifer turned and ran for the door. "You have insulted my honour, and my family's good name, have you nothing to say for yourself?!"

Trion, now standing upright on his throne, one leg balanced on an armrest, striking a valiant pose yelled back at her, "Get out! Never darken my chateau with your horrendous face again, fatso!"

Jenifer pelted past Halver, sobbing loudly, out of the chateau.

Trion cheered, pumping the air with his fist rather over enthusiastically, and toppled over the side of the throne and landed with a bump on the floor. Picking himself up he assessed the damage. There was no damage. Trion grinned idiotically and brushed himself off.

"Well that see's off marriage for another year. Father will be most displeased but I think we all agree, it is for the good of the nation that a handsome yound stud of a prince as handsome as myself stay single!"

Halver sighed and helped Trion brush himself down. "Whatever will we do with you, Prince Trion".

"Not with, Halver, not with, but for! You can start by sending for that lazy cur, Tydirium. After the frightful mingers he produced for my royal excellence today, he has a lot for answer for. The man is a damn bum, bring him to me at once".

Bowing, Halver exited the room.