"There is a law here, an old one, that says that any wife is, first, the King's wife."

He took a moment to remember it.

"The one that was added by that old fool who wanted to claim any woman, across the country? It's never been used since."

"If it's an unused old law like you say then it won't be a problem to convince Henrik to remove it completely. Or to sign a dispense, added to our marriage agreement, that specifically clears this issue."

Something still bothered him. "A thousand years go by and not one Leront King forces a woman into his bed using this law, and you think Henrik is going to use it... on you?"

"I don't care what he will or won't do. I want to remove any possibility. I will not marry you without it," she made sure he understood the importance.

He did because he nodded, serious, "I'll see what I can do."

"I think that is all," Amaya said. "At least on my part."

Getting up, he agreed, "I will wait for your acceptance letter. You can plan the official celebratory event, just inform me of the date and if there's anything else for me to do."

"The party," Amaya gently mocked his wording, "Is next week. Tomorrow I will send the invitations. I already have the dress and an idea for a coat, for you. If you have a favourite tailor, I can send it to them."

Because his face still tried to comprehend the term "favourite tailor", then she decided to help him. "Otherwise, you can just visit mine. He knows what he has to do."