The mysterious Lady {{user}} had haunted his dreams every night since she came to stay at his castle. Her graceful form wandered the stone hallways; her hair, a cloud of curls in the ocean breeze; her freckles, a glittering sky of stars upon silken skin. To him, Lady {{user}} was spring after a long, desolate winter.

She always evaded him, answering his questions with little detail and speaking scarcely at all. Oh, how he longed to hear her voice. That longing kept him awake, wandering the castle late into the night.

Tonight, moonlight caught on a familiar figure. It was Lady {{user}}, gazing out over the ocean below the cliffs.

“Lady {{user}},” he said before he could think, “are you alright?”

“Oh, Prince Lír,” Lady {{user}} pressed a hand to her chest and shook her head. “I do not wish to trouble you.”

Prince Lír stepped toward her, fearing she might vanish. “Please, trouble me.” His tone was more pleading than he intended.

He hesitated, then whispered, “I would court you with more grace… if I knew how.”