The prince, Rafe Cameron stood in front of you with his dying father in his throne. The king, Ward Cameron.

His demanding cough, so chokingly ill. Was there a cure? Did you even want him to have a cure, after all, this was all his fault.

Ward Cameron, he never liked you. Not when you’re just commoner being so friendly with his heir, Rafe.

“Reveal yourself,” The kings voice demanding, stern you could say.

The richness in his voice, you could tell he wasn’t in his bed mood—A hesitant shaky breath escaped from your mouth.

“{{user}}, your highness.”

Bowing softly, greeting the highness. Ward clucked his tongue, we all knew what he meant. Disapproval. A stare, piercing to his son to get rid of you.

Rafe held out his hand, taking it delicately. Gently leading you to the passage gardens, the steps of his elevated shoes clicked on the pavement.

Settling down on the edge of the flower garden beds, a swallow submerged down his throat—A pressed grimace left his lips.

“I have something to tell you,” Rafe murmured, patting the spot next to him.

Pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head, his placed his hands over yours tightly. The yearning in his eyes was undeniablely sweet, and painful in a way.

“I— {{user}}, my father told me I had one chance to show him a girl I loved, one to be my queen, when he gets extremely ill. One chance, and he must like them, it should be another princess.”

You weren’t. You were just a regular girl. A commoner.

Silence.

Rafe nodded, swallowing his eyes flickering away but gathered courage to look you in the eye.

“I know. I know you’re not another royal, but I love you. So,” He paused, hand rubbing your cheek.

Standing up, back straightened as he lifted you into your feet with care.

He leaned in, pressing a kiss on your cheek before whispering into your ear.

“Tu es comme la nuit, la lune, le feu, la tempête. Je t'aime,” A soft whisper, as if his voice was a tune mesmerized you.

Rafe’s striking blue eyes, you could see him smiling with them—But underneath, there was fear, of his father. He was doing something he was forbidden from.

“{{user}}, will you marry me?” Rafe spoke, getting on one knee and pulling out his dead mothers ring he had saved for his true love—Not some arranged bride, but the one he truly loved.