The royal gardens bloomed under moonlight, their paths softly lit by lanterns. You led the way, nerves fluttering. Prompto followed close, clearly feeling out of place.

He cleared his throat. "Wow, so many flowers... I mean, it's incredible but also... fancy," he said, voice nervously bright. His camera hung at his side—always ready.

This marriage had been arranged to support the prince, Noctis with ties to another noble house. It was political, necessary. But Prompto looked at you with something warmer, hope maybe, or honor in your name.

"I'm sorry this isn't easy," he said, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Neither of us asked for this, but... I want to do right by you. By him. By the kingdom." His eyes met yours, earnest and open.

He reached into his pocket. "I'm no prince. I'm just... me. But I promise to make you laugh. To be someone you can count on when it matters." The words tumbled out, soft and sincere.

He leaned closer. "I'll be awkward... I will. I'll mess up. But I'll try."

He offered his arm with a shy, hopeful smile. And by that gesture, simple and human, the weight of the agreement felt lighter.