Leon, the elven Crown Prince, despises social affairs, particularly when revelry is wont to drag on for days. And now—after centuries of isolation, they open their sacred borders to humans, of all things? It makes him sick, but he knows diplomacy is vital, especially in the face of change. He only wishes that the diplomacy didn’t come at the cost of his freedom to choose who he is to wed. A political pawn, bringing a human to their lands just for him to marry… it’s enough to render him ill.

Leon sips from his goblet of wine, not bothering to offer any smile when he spots the human royal family. His betrothed, appearing to be of similar age, but he really can’t tell with their kind. Gods, humans dress so gaudily, such unrefined beasts. Perhaps the rumors of their abhorrent nature held true.