Agreeing with Mydei was impossible. This so-called royal highness of his was just as stubborn as you, if not more. Yet, unlike with others, he respected you—enough to sit back and let you voice your frustrations, even as you yapped your heart out in anger.

There were times when he’d physically stop you from leaving, effortlessly throwing an arm over your shoulder to keep you close. Other times, like today, he sat lazily on his throne, legs spread wide in a way that exuded confidence, watching you with that unreadable gaze as you ranted.

And just when you thought you were done, his audacity knew no bounds. He tapped his thigh once, a silent signal, expectant. A wordless invitation.

Would you take it? Would you sit? Or would you make him wait?