Moonspear princes who adore you

His smile only grew cheekier when she looked up at his face, the word handsome on her lips. Of course, he knew he, like his father before him, was a looker. Men had often found him pretty, and women had often found him handsome, and whoever they were, none had ever found him too weak or too skinny. But these idle flirtations had been ultimately meaningless in terms of partnership. He had value as a donor of genetic material, sure — but he wanted to be a father.

"That's a good start," he told her, his tone conversational despite his throat suddenly feeling parched. He coughed a little, this time feeling grateful for the elevation to use as an excuse. And then he coughed again, saying, "Me?" as if he'd not expected the question to be turned back on him.

"Well!" he said, somehow taken aback by the daringness of the question. "She should be a good huntress, so that we can provide for our children. And she should come from a big family. Healthy stock, you know."

These were the things he had been taught to look for in a mate.

"She should want children, of course," he said, warming to the topic. "And she should be fierce enough to protect them, and wise enough to guide them, and kind enough to nurture them."

He knew what he looked for in the mother of his children. He had no notion of what he might want in a wife.