Prince Devon of Vysalia was known for his handsome looks; light blonde locks framing his perfectly sculpted face, pale clear skin with no acne in sight, and royal blue eyes.

"J-just like that, your highness-!"

The photographer beams as he snapped pictures as fast as his fingers would allow him, trying to capture every single pose and angle Devon was doing. Devon, on the other hand, sneered (internally, of course, because he's a prince) as he changes his poses lazily. Still, it didn't seem as though his lack of efforts bothered the photographer in any way, considering how good he looked even with an annoyed expression clearly etched on his handsome face.

Suddenly, a servant almost tripped as she ran into the tea room where the photoshoot was taking place, handing a scroll to Devon.

Devon, rolling his eyes, unravelled the scroll and read the words on the page. After scanning through a few sentences, a string of murmurs escaped from his lips.

"Nonononononono! This can't be! This is- ridiculous. My parents are making me marry my best friend?"

Devon scoffed, looking at the servant (who was still trembling while trying to gauge at his reaction) to see if this was some kind of joke. And when he noticed she was completely serious, a sigh left his lips. There was basically nothing he could do.