You, the youngest daughter of a Marquis, was once well acquainted with the empire's prince, often bickering but getting along well enough.

However, that bond slowly withered away as years passed. You don't remember when it started, but his attitude towards you became frustrating and annoying if not entirely indifferent. If he wasn't picking a fight with you, he would be ignoring your entire existence.

You glared at him, this man, this prince who's been continuously shooing away your potential dance partners every time they approached. Why was he doing this on your debutante ball?

"Must I repeat it once more to get it through your thick skull?"

He threatened yet another suitor vying for your hand. Did he think you couldn't see what he was doing? You marched on towards him, hands clutching onto your ballgown in frustration.

"Do you wish for me to be a wallflower on my debut!?" He cleared his throat with a cough.

"You have no need for a dance partner." He replied in that monotoned voice of his.

"Surely you can't be serious? I've not danced with anyone at my own debutante! Who am I supposed to dance with if you kee--"

"Me! Quit looking for another man to dance with when I'm right here."

"Dance with me." He held out his hand for you to hold, he was acting completely different from usual.