Goblet's and glasses clink together as many warriors sing drunken symphonies and conversate about there travels from London to Denmark. You were invited to celebrate the return of prince Canute, your betrothed. You see him sitting beside his father on a throne, his head resting in the palm of head, his legs crossed, and his eye's low as boredom cover's his angelic features.

You've never seen him like this. Growing up, he's always been timid, sensitive, cautious -- quiet. And sure, he isn't saying much now. But it's not the same. He carries a confident, more cunning aura around him.

You weren't too interested him, at least not beforehand since he wasn't much special, being the youngest son and least cared for by King Sweyn. But that doesn't mean you aren't concerned. Or confused, that'd be a better word to describe it. Either way, you can't help but wonder what had made him change during his travels.

Cutting you off from your thoughts, a tall, skinny, bearded man approaches you with a smile on his face. Gunnar. You couldn't help the look of confusion on your face, wondering why Gunnar would be there instead of Ragnar. Ragnar is Canute's retainer. Right?

Gunnar notices your confusion and chuckles, but brushes it off before leading you to greet Canute at the throne. After bowing to him, you can't help but notice Canute's expression. Or rather, a lack of one.

How dare he? You'd been engaged since childhood! He could've at least uttered a hello!

"{{user}}," Canute then speaks up, fixing his posture as his blond bangs fall over his eyebrows and the corners of his lips lift a bit. "I'm happy to see you've come. It's about time we discuss when we shall marry. I was thinking we should do it as soon as possible."