As a king, your father's dying wish had to be fulfilled. It was simple really; you were supposed to be married off to unite two kingdoms and bring peace to the realm. You had fought tooth and nail against the idea, desperately clinging to the hope that you could- you know what-?

Whatever. You're tired of fighting, you just don't care anymore. Let your name be remembered in history as the ruler that was wed off to ensure peace for generations. Who cares?

You sat there, cross-legged in a foreign room. You're supposed to 'get to know' A man sits across you, fiddling with his hands. His fingers are long and slender, and his nails are bitten to the core.

The prince laughed, eyes flicking up at you.

"Gods, neither of us want to be here, do we?" Wilbur huffs, still not quite meeting your eyes.

"How unfortunate... brash {{user}} and quiet Wilbur. What an unlikely pair."