It was known kingdom wide that commoners would sometimes, albeit very rarely, be picked by a royals personal advisor, who the royal would marry once the royal gained the throne or met the age of 20. All to keep the bloodlines clean and everyone knew it.

You, however, didnt expect that commoner to be you.

Elliot, the middle child of the King, bows before you now, your grubby hand against his lips as he kisses it in greeting. His royal advisor stands beside him, smiling gleefully as he looks at you. You were Jascob’s pick.

“Charming to meet you at last, {{user}}.” Prince Elliot says, his eyes narrow as he looks you over. In great need of a bath, he thinks as he lets go of your sooty hand. “I have yet to see what my advisor sees in you,” The prince glances back at Jascob, unsure of this dirty commoner, “but lets hope for the best, no?”