You understand, the titles, the… dukedom. They’re not the job. She is the job. She is the essence of your duty. Loving her. Protecting her. Of course, you’ll miss your career. But doing this for her, doing this for me… there may be no greater act of patriotism. Or love.
Who wants transparency when you can have magic? Who wants prose
when you can have poetry? Pull away the veil and what are you left with? An ordinary young woman of modest ability and little imagination. But wrap her up like this, anoint her with oil, and hey, presto, what do you have? A goddess.