Meanwhile...

"We need to hurry up the tournament."

"Whatever for?" the Matron asked. She was sitting on a very uncomfortable overstuffed chair in the King's outer chambers, speaking to his attendant and advisor, Arnold.

"His condition is deteriorating. If we don't have a new Princess before he dies this country will break into civil war!" Arnold was slightly prone to dramatics, but at this moment his face was grave and his eyes brimmed with countless sleepless nights filled with worry and grief. He was right of course. Every land in the kingdom had sent a champion to win the hand of the prince. If the King died before one was rightfully chosen, all hell would break lose. It would be pure chaos as they all vied for the throne, it was the reason the tournament had been established in the first place.

"And what do you suppose we do?" The Matron questioned. Her purpose was similar to that of a prime minister, with more power than usual since the Queen had died and the King had fallen ill. She held a lot of power in her hands, but to an outsider she seemed like a harmless old lady. Only those who met her saw the glint of steel in her eye and found her to be a hardened battle axe.

"We need to speed up this tournament without letting them know that is why." Another voice piped up. It was Granule, the Matron's advisor. He was a fairly young thing. She got saddled with him as a favour to his aunt, however he had turned out to be rather useful, and he knew the moods of the people. He was also very clever. Too clever for his own good sometimes, but right now, the Matron knew he was thinking aloud, and when he did that, a solution was on the horizon.

"If it is as urgent as you say, then we shall have to skip the opening ceremony." The Matron said.

"The opening ceremony isn't the problem," Arnold responded, "the actual rounds of fighting are."

"Well unless you want to throw them all in together to fight it out..." Granule continued airing his thoughts.

Arnold and Matron stared at him.

"That's it! That is exactly it! All we need to do is have an elimination round like that! We can combine it with the opening ceremony as a special event! It will save days of valuable time, weeks even!" Arnold was overjoyed with this idea. It was perfect! With 3 matches a day, and over 50 competitors, it would have taken months before a victor was announced.

"Well, that's settled then. Granule will sort things out with the event organisers and we will begin the fastest Betrothal Championships we have ever held." The Matron rose from the uncomfortable chair, grabbed her cane, and set off to her rooms in the palace, ready to sit in a chair that didn't hurt her already bad back, and have some tea.

And so it was decided that there would be a survival of the fittest match at the opening ceremony and the final 8 competitors would fight it out for the title of Princess, soon to be Queen and the hand of the Prince.