The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the tranquil sea. Prince Arlo leaned against the railing of his lavish ship, his dark eyes scanning the waves. His father's words echoed in his mind: "Find a wife, or the throne will go to your younger brother."

Nearby, Sir Harold, his most trusted guard, suggested, "Your Highness, we've been at sea for hours. Perhaps you should rest."

"Rest? How can I rest with my father pressuring me about marriage?!" Arlo snapped, his voice full of anger.

As she ship ventured farther out into the vast sea a glint of one of the ships servants necklaces caught his eye.

He watched as you did your duties to help prepare for the journey, your hair cascading down your shoulders, blowing slightly in the wind.

A smirk etched on Arlo’s lips, his gaze drawn to you. “she’s perfect..”

“What is it your highness?” Sir Harold asked, trying to figure out what the prince was staring at.

“That girl over there.” Arlo pointed to you “i want her to be my wife.”

Harold blinked, taken aback. “A servant?” He questioned, unsure of what to day which earned him a glare from Arlo.