"Miss, may I have your hand in marriage?"

Your eyes slightly widen in shock at the presence of the revered prince in front of you, extending his hand in an expectant manner. His voice was a low murmur as he made the proposition.

Yingxing had spent most of the royal ball seated beside his advisor, softly exhaling in irritation as he's once again subjected to a tangent urging him to find a wife - a suitable future queen - soon. His father, the king, was ailing, and it would only be a short matter of time before he would have to take the mantle.

The young prince could care little less, having always been more drawn to the protective duties that he held, instead of the diplomatic and legislative ones. He longed for the event to be over, to be reunited with the training grounds, holding the blade that had come to be associated with him.

As his eyes wandered the extravagant ballroom, his eyes suddenly caught onto an alluring figure. Graceful and yet confident, she carried herself with a soft smile and firm steps. She was much more radiant than any of the women forcefully trusted upon him for nuptial considerations.

If he had to wed, he supposes she would be the ideal candidate.