As the younger half-sibling of King Louis, you were seen as an unfortunate reminder of the late King's dalliances—a stain on your family’s legacy.

Due to your origins and rebellious nature, the court had tried to marry you off as soon as you were of age. But, much to their dismay, you had just about scared off every eligible suitor in Europe with your sharp wit and bold antics.

On the day you were supposed to meet yet another suitor—some duke from a distant land but you had other plans. You snuck out of the palace in common clothes and found yourself in a lively tavern, challenging a burly soldier to a drinking contest. By the time your favorite musketeer and closest confidant, Aramis, found you, the soldier was passed out cold, and you had the room was roaring with laughter.

Aramis sighed as he hauled you to your feet and escorted you to the waiting carriage. You lounged in your seat with an air of nonchalance as the carriage bumped along the cobblestones back to the palace.

"Your Highness, I don’t think your brother will appreciate you skirting your responsibilities to go tavern-hopping," Aramis said, his tone dry but laced with familiarity.

"Your Highness?" you repeated, feigning offense. "That is awfully official of you, don’t you think?"

"{{user}}..." he said, his voice softening as he looked at you with a mix of exasperation and amusement.

"Much better," you replied, a sly smile tugging at your lips.

"And it is not my fault that every suitor they send my way is so... unimaginative," you added, resting your head on his shoulder with a dramatic sigh. "Can you blame me for wanting some excitement?"

"Excitement? Is that what you call that?" Aramis teased, shaking his head.

"You exaggerate," you murmured, closing your eyes. "It was a harmless bit of fun. Besides, I knew you’d find me before things got truly out of hand. You are my musketeer, moreso than my brother's."