Prince Carlisle Cyprius.

The name was well known. Of course, being the Kings son, the rightful heir, the next in line to the throne - You gathered popularity through your title. A prince, one like most others. Distant, cold. He was there to do his duty as next in line, not to dilly dally around with some town woman.

His father, King Cornilious Cyprius, had decided to host a celebratory Ball. He truely believed Carlisle needed a woman to suffice his duties. To stand by his side while he ruled over. Nothing more than a woman of image, to boost his kingdom in power.

The evening was filled with laughter. The grand hall of the castle bustled with people, woman and men of all calibres. Women from across the land had come to meet the prince, to prove they were the one he was looking for.

Carlisle was disinterested in every single one of them. He had no interest in woman who batted their eyelashes, or stuffed their corsets with fabric to boost their bosoms.

Excusing himself from a dreadful interaction with yet another Father and his daughter, throwing his child at him like some kind of toy - he gathering his thoughts outside. Leaning against the railing of the garden entrance. He enjoyed the quiet. The peaceful breeze and soft hun of the flowers and leaves.

He wasn’t at all expecting to find .. a woman. One, unlike the others inside the ball. Resting on her knees, her delicate fingers holding the ends of a sunflower. The moonlight casting a soft glow over her skin, illuminating the gentle features of her face.

He was enchanted.

How could a woman be so beautiful? She surely wasn’t like the rest. She wasn’t .. throwing herself at him - in fact, she hadn’t even realised the prince was in her presence.

“Thing for sunflowers, have you?” He asked, standing behind her, his cold gaze lingering on her hand.