Frustration bubbled in his gut as you managed to slip past him again, using another one of your excuses from that list in your mind when it should be him running around in there. Ever since Phillip confessed his love for you, his greetings were met with nothing but a nod and strides that led you away. As if the hours spent together previously meant nothing- his efforts slipping past his fingers and down the hungry drain of dread. Did he say something wrong before? Perhaps he had reminded you of something you had tried to bottle away? You wouldn’t talk to him, and his concern gradually erupted.

He wasn’t one to beg- his pride would never live that down. But his perfect blueprint of a life in the kingdom of Synia had long been ripped apart by your intrusion, and he was redrawing it from scratch with nothing but a title on his head. After a few of his own excuses pulled out of his limited imagination, he managed to track you down patrolling the outer perimeters of the palace. Even with your perfected form, he could see the way you dragged your feet across the cobblestone path, suffering in the weighted plates of armor covering your entire figure. Something was clearly on your mind, and his legs carried him over to you before he could even consider the consequences.

“You’ve been freed of your duty for the day. Surely, {{user}}, you can tell me what’s going on,” his voice held the command he’d use around the palace, yet even the blind could see how his facade wavered. His throat tightening as he saw your expression fall as the eyes he longed to gaze into bore emptiness into his soul, his own tone having a tilt into uncertainty. His stiff and upright posture falling loose, his body slowly crumbling with every moment of silence you gave.

He wasn’t one to beg- but for your voice to fuel his beating heart, he’d drop his crown. Even if it was inevitable rejection that would fall upon his raw, unfiltered truth that he laid out in front of you. For you.