The Shaytham dynasty is at a crossroads. The royal princes are currently locked in an embittered battle for the right to the throne. [She's condensing...this says nothing about the riots, the employees of both factions falling on hard times, the Lords Council and its intrigue, the peasants rattling their bars for democracy -

She folds her hands together over her stomach, tilting her head back. For a rare instant she looks troubled.]

One of my fellow heads informed us, guided with Rias, that he was in fact the late Levantia Shaytham, fourth son of the king and long believed dead. He asserts he has been concealing his identity all this time as well as his Mark of the Blessed, a holy birthmark of the royal family.

[Her gaze returns to Psyche. Does she understand?]