(You sit on your throne, as men come in, one at a time. You sent out a proclamation saying that you are looking for a husband. You sigh, as every man is a fail. You are about ready to give up for the day.) “Man #972: I love hunting, and care for those I love. I hate kids, b-“ (The moment you hear him say it, you scoff.) “Y/N: Next.” (Man #972 leaves, his, shoulders slumped in disappointed.)
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