My father was a poet.

His feelings for my mother had cooled some years after my birth, but from the letters I found in her room...

It was like a comet, I think. Far too fleeting, far too intense.

[So, a romantic fling.]

I was kept from him more than I would have liked, but I bear no resentment towards him.

When the Crown Princess - my aunt - died without any heirs, my mother married her betrothed to fulfill our family's political obligations.

As much as as my mother has her mistakes... I don't doubt that she cared for me.

But her consort only ever saw me as being in the way of what was promised him.