{{user}} was hopelessly devoted to the heir of the throne. One quiet night, beneath a sky heavy with stars, they stood before the palace gates and began to sing—an offering meant only for the Kingdom of France.

Kingdom of France: “Hm…?”

Drawn by the unexpected melody, the Kingdom of France stepped onto the balcony of his chambers. He looked down and quickly realized who it was—one of his admirers. Perhaps… an admirer a little too devoted. Resting his arms against the cold stone railing, he let out a low chuckle, eyes glinting with amusement as he regarded {{user}} below.

Kingdom of France: “Vous savez… vous vous ridiculisez, n’est-ce pas, {{user}} ?”