It was the end. Or the beginning.
Depending on how much you squinted when you looked at it.
The Emporer Viaciare of Vespara had offered his daughter the Princess Unalenia to be Queen of Disnarta. She was young, she was beautiful, she was royal. Her skin was white, her eyes blue, she had long hair the colour of honey. She was a party animal - fun-loving , accomplished in the pianoforte and one or two modern languages, she knew a little history, but altogether not generally an academic sort of girl. She liked to make-believe, to be surrounded by a circle of gossiping, laughing women. She liked decadence and beautiful jewellery and clothing, delicious food, pretty music and ideal surroundings.
So she was nothing like Beatrix. But she was a kind-hearted, well-meaning little creature, as Owain came to find. She wished only to make herself and those around her happy, and while she managed to be incredibly selfish, it was impossible to be angry with her. She thought of nothing but happiness. Not politics, not her country, not peace or war or food shortages or rebels in the east or explorers sent to the outlands.
But with time, Owain came to dote on her, and she on him. And, I believe, they were very happy together. And the best of luck to them.