It was one month before the ball to find King Irmin's elder child a suitor.

Dainsleif was dreading it, just as he dreaded waking up in the morning. The royal court of Khaenri'ah, the one in which he grew up in, was such a damn drag.

Quietly sighing to himself, he enters the library of the castle. He doesn't expect to find you there, practicing some sort of skill to woo over a potential suitor. Steeling his expression, he approaches.