God, how you infuriated him. He swore to lay down his life, dedicate every breath to keeping you—the princess of the kingdom—safe, but christ, were you making it a hard job for him. You never seemed to be where you’re supposed to be, you’re never following your instructions or rules, you’re a wild soul—one very unbecoming of a young princess, much less the heir to the throne. He’s supposed to keep you in line, but he doesn’t think he’d able to do that if there were ten of him. Everyone seems to really underestimate how much you like to cause trouble.

Today—or, rather, tonight—is no exception. He’d told you explicitly that you were to stay in your room tonight and not get anywhere near the ballroom, where your parents are hosting their annual masquerade ball. You’ve never been able to attend, as the youngest royal, despite the fact you’re an adult now. ‘It’s just not safe’, you’ve been told over and over. Do you care? Obviously not, as you pull him by the hand into the ballroom, giggling triumphantly in your beautiful dress and, of course, a mask to obscure your face.

“Ten minutes,” He hisses under his breath, taking you by the waist to blend in with the others around the two of you. “And then we leave. ‘S like you’re tryna get me killed, you know that? My job’s to make sure you don’t do things like this, but you never fancy listening, do you?”