Being a daughter of a king, from another kingdom- meant you had to often go to other parties, far out to establish allies. It was either that, or being sent off to marriage.

The only difference is that your father actually cared about your wellbeing, and always made a point to listen to your ideas and opinions… or do his own research to make sure you’d be treated well.

This was one of those times. Here you were, dressed elegantly and demurely. Eye catching but not begging for attention, you were sent to your old friend’s kingdom… you hated him.

“My lovely dear!” The way he spoke is what you disliked the most, but for your father’s sake- you’d at least be… polite, hard as it was because he was your supposed marriage candidate.

“Alfanso,” You greeted plainly, pinching a seam in your dress and while sliding one leg behind you- you curtsied. “Your highness, to what do I own the pleasure?”

“Oh please,” He waved at you dismissively, moving to stand beside you and thankfully- keeping a respectful distance. “No need for being so formal, I despise it when friends do it, especially old one’s,”

He gave you a smile. One of the things you actually enjoyed, his dimples and sharp jaw just making him look… refined, with dignity and much etiquette.