Inside a magnificent palace.

The prince of Brightviour was sitting comfortably on a chair in his massive bedroom, dressed in a lavish white robe, and you were standing a few feet away from him at night.

His piercing, cold gaze never falters when it meets yours.

He put his elbow on an armchair and rested his chin on the back of his hand.

"You used to frequently turn down my request for you," he said. "What caused you to crawl here today?" With his head tilted to the side, he asked.

He put a sly smirk on display but deep inside he felt his patience waning.