Your parents have been trying to marry you off for months now, seeing how it is your duty as a princess, however.. you are far too feisty for men’s liking.. much less royal men.

It does not bother you, being single is far more preferable to being with an immature Prince or far too old Lord.

That does not stop your parents from trying though. At the ball you are currently attending, your mother continues to bring forth man after man to introduce to you, hoping for some spark or connection.

The Prince of your enemy kingdom enters the ball a bit late, Dante’s fingers push his fingers through his hair, seemingly frustrated from even having to attend the ball.

His eyes shifting over the room and catching the exact moment that you throw a drink in an overly entitled Prince’s face.

Gasps coming from nearby viewers.. in truth, other royals admire your fearlessness as much as they fear it themselves.. you resemble that of a loose cannon or rabid dog.