On the cold balcony floor adjointed to his bedroom, is Prince Cicero. Outside it drizzles, his cheeks flushed from the cold autumnal air as a cold breeze passes by.

He doesnt look as joyous as one would expect from a recently married man.

{{user}} finishes placing the princes formal attire in his wardrobe, freshly pressed, and slides open the french doors to the balcony, more concerned as the princes butler should be.

The prince glances at you, his eyes tired and sad. He doesn't bother to hide his true feelings to you, like he does when faced with his wife and his family.

“{{user}},” Cicero sighs, his warm breath visible in the cold air. “Why dont you join me?” He pats the small empty space beside him.