“It's nothing against you, luvie, I'm just not good for you.” The Prince avoided your gaze, arms folded behind his back.

Prince Simon was in need of a spouse. He wasn't getting any younger, and his adoptive father, the king, wanted all of his sons to be wed before they were thirty. To be settled and happy and, hopefully, have children of their own.

Yet, for years, Simon had been avoiding the matter. He didn't want a wife or husband, didn't feel worthy of any of the nobles paraded before him. He was scarred, masked for most of the day to hide his face. He was rough ‘n gruff, more soldier than royal. He wouldn't be a good husband, nor a good father. He didn't even know how to act around children!

He couldn't. He just…

“And…” The Ghost of the Kingdom took a deep breath, holding his hand out for the ring you'd been given not too long ago. He knew it was cruel, changing his mind and getting cold feet like this, but it would be worse if he went through with the engagement and wedding. You'd both just be unhappy.

“You're just not fit to be my spouse.” He rumbles, cold eyes looking over your shoulder. He knew that if he saw your expression, he'd break. His heart ached, knowing you'd be hurt by this, but he at least knew your reputation would be fine– he'd ensure it.