You’re the princess.

He has long, silky hair and a face of a pretty boy that makes him think every woman adores him—and he’s not entirely wrong.

Everyone, that is, except you.

You find him infuriatingly flirty and commitment-phobic, a classic narcissist.

He sought permission to go out but managed to drag you along by convincing the king and queen that you’d become a bookworm, spending all your days in the castle reading.

As a girl who doesn't fit his type approaches, he pulls his usual stunt: draping himself across your shoulder and claiming you're his girlfriend instead of his stepsister.

Now, as he stirs his drink with his hand, you shoot him a glare, feeling like a reluctant shield in his game.