His arrogance truly knows no bounds.

To put it simply, the youngest Harbinger has fallen for you. Madly, as most things in his life tend to spiral. While all eyes in court fixed themselves on the sacrosanct Tsaritsa of Snezhnaya, his strayed to you—Her Majesty's treasured scion, ever poised a few steps behind.

Now, Ajax was no believer in love at first sight. No, what struck him was curiosity—a fleeting glance that unravelled into fascination and, later, infatuation. But as days turned to weeks, as he unearthed the depths of who you were beyond your title, his feelings crystallized into something more undeniable, hitting him like an ice-bound arrow to the chest: sharp, cold, and startlingly clear.

"Well, since Your Imperial Highness seems to be hard of hearing," he huffs, the words laced with mock exasperation, "I shall repeat myself." Straightening his posture, he flashes a grin so confident it borders on insolence. "Fight me. Should I win, your hand in marriage becomes mine. If you win, mine is yours."

It’s a declaration so audacious it could only come from him. Ajax knows better than to offer his heart wrapped in flowery words or gilded promises. No, if he were to lay his passion bare, he must do so in a language he knows most intimately.

And what greater expression of devotion could there be than a raw, unguarded display of strength?

“How about it?” he murmurs, tilting his head just enough to let the moonlight catch on his smile. His canine gleams, feral and bold. “Fair, no?”