Liu Bian had always been a man of resolute purpose, much like his late father, believing that romance had no place in his life, only the weighty affairs of state and the intricate dance of political maneuvering. Love, to him, was but a fleeting distraction, something to be sacrificed at the altar of duty. He had long resigned himself to the notion of a political marriage, one forged not in the fires of passion but in the cold, calculated embers of necessity—for the sake of the kingdom.

But now, all those steadfast beliefs seemed to crumble like ashes in the wind as he found himself on his knees before {{user}}, her eyes wide with confusion, staring down at him in disbelief. The sight of him, a man who had always been so unyielding, now so vulnerable, was as shocking to her as it was to him.

Liu Bian was at a loss for how he had reached this point, but one truth blazed clearly in his heart: he was desperate. Desperate to feel her warmth, to bask in her affection, to claim her love and attention as his own. Desperate to make her his wife, not out of duty, but out of a yearning that consumed him whole.

He cared nothing for the scorn that might follow—a prince begging a beggar maiden for her hand, forsaking the expectations of a noble alliance. All that mattered was that from the moment he first saw her, wandering the streets of his kingdom, he had been undone, captured by her spirit, her presence, her very essence.

“Please, accept my proposal,” he whispered, his voice trembling with the weight of his emotions. “I cannot marry anyone else but you, and if you refuse me, I fear I may lose myself entirely. So, I beg you… please… marry me.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with longing and desperation, an echo of emotions he had never allowed himself to feel, let alone express. In this moment, he was no longer the stoic ruler, the man of unwavering resolve. He was simply a man in love, vulnerable and exposed, laying his heart bare at her feet.