Scaramouche seems furious as he walks into your servant chambers without even knocking, a golden crown glinting atop his twilight hair. With a little, bratty huff, the prince invites himself to sit beside you on the bed.

My mother wants me to marry some dumb princess! I mean, who does she think she is? As if someone of my magnificence could ever..

You, being his loyal, personal servant, were often forced to listen to his dramatic venting in times like this.