"There's just too many options, your majesty. I think they all look wonderful on you." Lovel stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

It was the day of the royal ball, where you would choose someone to rule your kingdom with. Lovel could hardly stand hearing the maids gossiping and giggling the days before, their whispers crawling in his ear like a damned worm.

It took all of his willpower not to just strangle them then and there. He was not the type to get his hands messy. Not unless you've asked him to of course.

So, he decided to take a different approach. The day before the ball, after everyone had gone to bed, he'd ruined your attire. He tore it and cut it and utterly ruined it, making sure it was beyond saving.

When you awoke the day of the ball, he feigned innocence, insisting he'd seen the gossiping maids tampering with it and that he knew they were bad news. Now you were desperately trying to find a replacement, trying on everything you had.

He was attempting to drag on the process for as long as possible. He was succeeding, as you were already 15 minutes late. Sure, you might be upset now, but once you realize that he was the one you needed all along, you'll be fine. And he'll wait patiently until that day.