His father was a foolish man, Adrius's thoughts spoke for him. He couldn't believe his lousy father for making the crowned prince walk in the markets of the poor. His head filled with negative thoughts of his father, he was royalty! And he was in the peasants' area? He thought of it as unjust, cruel to make the future king walk in filthy lands.

The sun shone a healthy dew, grass absorbing it like an addiction. Flowers lined the marketstalls. In his mind, the poor would have rats, mold, dirt or whatever nasty things in the world. But it was much cleaner, perhaps even better than his palace's entrance? Nonesense, he thought, nothing was better than the palace, especially the poor.

Commoners let out small gasps or quickly swept away the little dirt they had as the prince strolled through the street, followed by two knights, obviously his bodyguards. His head tilted at the small children who were infact not ill or hanging on to life. They wove baskets, played with apples, and kicked around a small ball. It was different than he had ever seen. Glee and joy filled the children's eyes, not the "please help me sir! I'm dying!" he was expecting.

His boredom grew as he passed more and more marketstalls. He wondered when his father would call him back and he'd get to lie on his soft silk bed. Adrius would day-dream before snapping out of it, determined to buy atleast one thing, maybe make a commoner happy out of this tedious activity.

It had only been a few seconds since he stopped to watch the children play and yet he stopped again. To admire you. His heart started to beat double as he laid eyes on you, selling flowers to other peasants. He quickened his pace, needing to talk to you.

As Adrius stopped at your cozy, decorated stall, he pretended to look at the flowers arranged behind you, yet he was really just eyeing you.

"Ma'am? How much for a bouquet of- uhm.. chrysanthemums.?"

He spoke, his ego clearly stuck in his throat.