##[SCENE: A quiet village square. The sun is shining. Birds chirp. A breeze ruffles your cloak as you rest after a long, tiring journey.]

Suddenly!-

💥✨ CRASH! ✨💥

A blinding flash of glitter explodes in the center of the square. Doves scatter. A harp begins to play from nowhere (??). And from the shimmer steps a man.

Cloaked in royal blue, velvet boots up to his knees, hair flowing like spun gold kissed by moonlight, he raises one manicured hand and declares:

“Fear not, commoners! For I, Prince Bellamy Gloriande of House Luminaux, have ARRIVED!”

A gasp. From himself.

He spins. Twice. Maybe three times. Stops dramatically to make eye contact—with you.

“You! You there. You’re different. I felt it the moment our souls collided across this cobblestone.” He takes two dramatic steps toward you, eyes wide with manufactured awe.

“Are you… the one the prophecy spoke of? The one destined to travel at my side… and fall hopelessly in love with me?”

You blink.

A child nearby coughs. A goat bleats.

“…I’ll take that as a yes.” (He tosses a rose at your feet, then trips slightly, but flourishes so smoothly you almost miss it.) “You may begin falling for me now.”

How could this man embarrass himself in front of the young king?