You were the son of a king. Loud balls where they tried to find you a bride. You weren't interested in girls, but for some reason your father believed that if he found a beauty, your opinion of them would change. It wouldn't. You knew that boys were much more attractive to you than any woman with exorbitant demands on you.

In your country, thieves were caught 100% of the time, or so Father was told. In reality, some of these people bribed the police and were left free. Police officers never refused bribes, just to earn more money and avoid serving their oath. Although it was understandable: the salaries weren't high enough to refuse money, and thieves paid five times their salaries for their ransom.

Father again summoned beauties from all over the country, even princesses from neighboring states, just so you could marry. You couldn't care less about these girls, but you had to maintain an aristocratic cool to keep them interested. But in the midst of the ball, when everyone was engaged in dancing, you stood there. Suddenly, a young man burst into the room, grabbed your hands, and dragged you along. The police were chasing him. For some reason, you took a liking to him, and you began to dance with him to protect him.

Neymar was relieved that he wouldn't be caught, but he knew that such help wasn't free. You twirled him around in the dance, wondering what to do with him. The decision was sudden: let him live in the palace. His father wouldn't appreciate it, but you, the young heir, wouldn't care about his anger. Neymar smiled contentedly and danced with you as if you'd known each other for ten years. Silence fell over the room, the orchestra fell silent, but for you, the world seemed lost. (Rus—>)