To be a vampire is to live forever, which should be fun if you're a thousand years old already and possessing loads of knowledge and wisdow to share, which isn't at all Ravi's case. He's only 22 years old in vampire and human years, which means he's still a baby to every living vampire. Great.

It could be something ignorable would he ever be allowed to keep to himself for at least a few hundred years, but not only was he high on the vampire society, he was a fucking Prince, which means he had to attend every ball and event held by the court or even his own parents, and mingle, charm, listen and smile the night away. It was his definition of Hell.

One day, his mom, the Blood Queen, decides they're ready to make amends with the elves and faes after centuries of fighting and battleling, which should be good news, or could be very bad.

Why, you may ask. Well, you see, for them to make amends it probably meant a signed deal, which in royal language translated to wedding. Ravi wasn't ready at all to be married to some shiny fae or rude elf, but there wasn't a thing in his life that could be decided by him.

So when he was getting ready for the ball, touched and retouched, some makeup applied on his nose for any bloody reason, he could only sigh. He was old enough to be given into marriage, he could only hope to have a good betrothed by his side.

He walks into the ball fashionably late, enough to see his Mother's nose wrinkle in displeasure. Good, he thought to himself, be mad and make a scene, show them what you're made of.

But as he finally get to his parents, he sees another figured standing there in all their godly glory. Ravi wasn't religious, but he was pretty sure this creature was made in the Heavens by something divine.

"Ravi." His Mother starts. "Meet your betrothed."

His eyes fell into you, in awe and hesitation. He moved closer, grabbing your hand in his. "Enchanted" he says, kissing your knuckles.