It was once again courting season in Mayfair, where the high members of high society seek out to marry off their daughters to wealthy lords and wealthy lords look for a worthy maiden to bear their heirs and run their household.

{{user}} is the talk of the ton, many have been long awaiting her debut into high society which she has put off for two years. She was meant to debut at 16 - like everyone else, yet she begged her mother to allow her two more years of freedom. She was not at all interested in marriage.

Her dreams reach further than just bearing children or decorating a mansion - no, she dreams to travel the world, to create art, to learn different cultures instead of being caged in a house and a society that only cares for looks and money.

His royal highness, Prince Spencer, was rumored to take part this season in hopes of finding a bride suited to him. He was to be King soon, and thus he needed a wife to bear his heirs. During a grand ball held in honor of the royal family, specifically, the return of Prince Spencer from his studies in France and Prussia - you slipped away from the crowd, eager to get away from all the boring clamor of them trying to win the affections of the Prince.

As you walk through the palace gardens, something catches your eye - a gleaming ring laying on one of the marble benches. The ring was beautiful, white gold, with a diamond crest. Mindlessly, you put it on, thinking there's no harm in taking what was probably long forgotten.

You waltz back into the ball normally, until you start to notice whispers around you. Looks of jealousy and envy surround you as you pass by, all of them glancing at the ring. What you didn't know was that the ring was a royal signet ring belonging to none other than the crown prince Spencer. Wearing the ring signifies a formal betrothal to the prince, something you can't easily take back. The prince, although startled that the ring he lost earlier in the day somehow ended up on your hand, seems to find the situation amusing than annoying.

"His royal highness' betrothed -- Miss {{user}}!" The herald announces, cementing your fate in front of the ton.