Now am I to take the reins again as I'm certain you desire clarification on the matter last mentioned. So, for proper illumination, we will have to turn back time, to when the king was a much younger man who had only just inherited the throne. At this time, he has no daughters and no cares for that matter. Though I assure you, there is no correlation between the two, at least not directly.
Gerard is out surveying his land while astride his horse and spreading coins among the people. He rides with a small, elite guard and is accompanied by trusted commissioners and other nobles of the court. Everywhere he goes the people bow low and bless his name while wishing that his reign is long and prosperous.
The king is busy smiling and waving as such he does not immediately see the old woman who has joined his entourage. He slowly pans about till he notices her and once the shock wears off starts to break into a sweat for not only is the woman inside his perimeter, which his guards should not have permitted, but she is flying on a broomstick.
Gerard swallows hard, beings of magic are not to be trifled with. "Good day to you, old woman," he addresses her, carefully choosing his words while giving a nod in her direction.
"Not one for flattery I see," Maggie returns and gives a giggle.
Gerard's blood instantly turns to ice. He's afraid he may have insulted her by calling her old. "I meant no offense," he quickly blurts and bows his head in supplication.
"It's quite alright," Maggie assures the anxious king and waves away the seeming offense. "I am indeed old. In fact, I would say that for my age, I look pretty good."
Gerard is relieved to find the witch has a good humor about her, then he remembers that beings of magic rarely greet strangers without an ulterior motive. "Is there something I can do for you?" he prods carefully and breathes a sigh of relief.
"It is not what you can do for me," Maggie corrects him and sits up straighter. "But what I can do for you."
"Might I ask what that is?" Gerard gently presses and tries his utmost to keep the worry off his face.
"Very shortly now, you are going to run into a problem, a problem that you cannot fix," Maggie begins and looks to the king. "On that day, you will require my help. To this purpose, I have come to tell you how to reach me."
Gerard listens intently to what the witch imparts and learns of her cozy little cottage, but he's a bit perplexed. He's had no problem as of yet that requires a witch's magic, but he knows better than to take her words lightly. So he returns to his castle while the magical woman flies off and in time, she proves accurate.
The king sits upon his throne, a troubled man with an issue that plagues his mind. He resolved upon taking the crown that he would cement his legacy with a great number of children, who would one day inherit the throne as he had. To this end, he married young and did not even wait till the feast was over before spreading his wild oats as it were.
His first wife was selected from the southernmost region's kingdom, but several months pass without her showing so he discerns she must be too weak to bear children. He divorces her and returns her to her principality before taking a second wife. She too fares no better and by wife number three, the king thinks that the problem may lie with him.
Gerard's beside himself with worry and it's beginning to affect his daily life. He desires that the throne remain in his family, but with no children, he has no family and he cannot appoint an heir outside of his lineage. He knows there has to be an answer, but no matter how much he focuses, a solution is not presenting itself.
Then he remembers the witch and her invitation issued so long ago. He takes a small contingent of guards with him and travels to her cottage where he finds the old woman and a seat waiting for him. Of course, during this time, both of them weigh much less. Still the chairs protest, they're far too heavy.
"I know of your problem," Maggie begins, sitting across the table from the king. "I already have the spell ready. All I need are three drops of your blood."
Gerard's reluctant to surrender so easily, but he trusts that the witch has his best intentions at heart and so complies with her wishes as he extends his arm. She materializes a small bowl out of thin air, that is steaming. She produces a knife with which she draws the necessary fluid. Then, she sets to work. Soon, she's finished and dipping her hand into the bowl, produces three pills.
"Give each pill to a trusted vassal who you know can bear children," Maggie instructs and she withdraws her empty hand. "They will then sire for you, three beautiful daughters, whose countenance will be so like your own that they will be above scrutiny."
"No sons?" Gerard returns as he gazes upon the pills in his hand.
"What's wrong with daughters?!" Maggie demands and sits forward.
"Nothing," Gerard returns and sits up a little straighter. "Daughters are fine."