Picture the Inquisitor telling their and Josephine’s daughter a long, very long story about the smartest, kindest, most beautiful princess of all the lands. A princess whose subjects all adore her for she is a gracious and merciful ruler; a princess who kicks serious ass everywhere she goes, but that’s okay, because it only means that people love her even more because she’s just so awesome and nice, even to those she defeated.
She’s pretty much objectively the best and most amazing person in the world.
Her story is full of twists and turns, adventures, dangers, even dragon-riding, and all those great things- the princess, of course, wins every battle and every debate with her awesome skills, and wits, and wicked words.
The child is entranced. She squirms in daddy’s/mommy’s lap, she gasps at every sharp plot twist, her eyes are sparkling from the first word till the very last.
After nights and nights of this same story, after daddy’s/mommy’s throat is getting hoarse, the princess finally delivers eternal peace to all the lands. She gives her final speech, about acceptance, and equality, and love for all, and the people from Qundalon to the Southernmost corners of Gwaren, from the rulers of Par Vollen to the lowest servant of Mont-de-glace, all rejoice and embrace one another.
The child, in awe, asks what happened to her new favorite hero afterwards. Where did she go, what did she do, what other amazing deeds did she go on to accomplish.
Then, the Inquisitor just smiles affectionately, ruffles their daughter’s long, wavy hair that is so perfectly like her mother’s, and all they say is-
“Then, she married me.”
Just. Please consider this.