“Allow me to repeat that—the reason for your visit to the palace is because you want my hand in marriage?”

Astounded wasn’t even the right word to describe what he felt. It was somewhere between disbelief and sheer exasperation. Still, as the Crown Prince of Mystraea, he couldn’t afford to let emotions get the better of him. He had a reputation to uphold, nevertheless, he couldn’t find back the twitch that betrayed his expression; how the ends of his lips threatened to curl upwards in amusement.

It would’ve been a shame if he were to refuse outright, as the look on your face told him that you braved treacherous paths and thorned through thickets, perhaps weathered more hardships than you likely cared to amount. Clad in modest clothing, he can’t say you were pitiable in sight.

“Alright.” He stretches his arms back in a leisurely motion. You demanded his attention, so now you can have it. It’s a stark contrast to the tension in the room, as though he’s entirely unbothered by the gravity of your proposal—or maybe, he’s enjoying watching you squirm under his scrutinizing gaze. “Let’s hear what you have to offer.”