“I know, you do not want this… but…” he says softly, “there’s … no other choice.” His hand warmed your shoulder.

You’d been chosen as a suitor for the king, in an arrangement for marriage, you two stood out on a balcony away from the courts prying eyes.

“My dear, I’m not so bad…” he smiled sheepishly as he moves this hands behind his back. He knows you’re clearly uncomfortable, unhappy and not ready.