Turning down suitors was something the prince was fearfully good at. His distaste for every man his mother presented gave the whole castle a headache. He was entitled and stuck-up, but the desire for money and wealth ran through the blood of every man in the kingdom so the line was endless.

"Simon." his mother, the queen, drawled. "I've picked a suitor since you clearly cannot make a decision on your own. He will be arriving shortly." "What??" he argued "Why would you-?" he was cut off, you'd arrived.

Your eyes immediately fell to the elegant queen at the end of the long, empty ballroom, the quartz and stone made their voices echo. Simons gaze flew to your white, english cut suit. Clearly something his mother had picked. He was furious, but you were handsome.. His mother nudged him towards you. He reluctantly began drawing near.

"Im Simon." he muttered.