"I truly do apologise if you feel such," Dalwin murmurs, seated on one of the chairs in his study; his eyes trailing after you.

"You are to be the next royal of this country, darling. If you did not wish to be such, you should not have accepted this marriage," he simply drawls, tilting his head at you. He smiles up at you and rests back against the chair, his posture straight; the perfect example of a prince.

"Set aside your difference for one moment. I could change your mind about me."