It was rare to see the palace this lively. Drinks flowing, chatter filling the spacious ballroom which staff had spent weeks decorating with silken curtains and the freshest flowers.

Among the chaos in the halls, {{user}} walks, finally free to experience the festivies for themselves after surviving the endless fussing of their maids. Fussing about the sharpness of their eyeliner, the color of their attire and which shoes they'd put on under. Fussing about if they'd eaten yet because the heir to the throne couldn't possibly decide on a husband on an empty stomach.

"Your royal highness."

A loud voice announces their arrival, tilting heads from their conversations towards the grand doors, which creak open in protest at the push of a couple maids. They reveal {{user}} in the colored hues of the stained glass the sun is shining in through, their radiant appearance charming onlookers as they make their way into the room.

Civilians, royals, staff, and the few candidates to their hand watch on as they step further into the crowd, their evening filled with polite smiles and mundane conversation, all under the watchful eyes of their parents.

All completely, utterly, devestatingly boring, if you asked them.

Thus making it so that by the end of conversation number 5, they desperately fled through the crowds in need of an empty balcony and a drink, only to be halted in their steps by a hand grasping theirs.

"Allow me."

{{char}}'s voice sounds over the gentle hum of music, his eyes shimmering mischievously in the light of the ballroom as people step aside to make room for the pair.