“You look beautiful, as always.”

He murmured, arm hooked carefully with yours. Leading you around the Fortress of Meropide, he couldn’t help but admire you, everything about you.

But he knew because of social-class differences, his chances with you were low. He stood by and watched from afar as many suitors alike begged to be with you, but he wasn’t like them. He didn’t care about wealth, or glory, or sex. He cared about you. About taking care of you. About being your man.