It was time.

How long had it been? Two years? The temptation to travel over the lake to see {{user}} was intense. Edgar thought about them every single moment of the day, dreaming of when he’d finally get the chance to witness their existence once more. Finally, that day had come.

The grand gala was happening. Every two years, Zeweth invited the world leaders to a ball. It was mainly a political event, meant to promote communication and trading between the kingdoms, but it was also a chance to show off one’s power. Edgar hated them with a burning passion. The only royalty he wished to see was {{user}}. A relative of the royal Demaret family of Aleatia, {{user}} was everything to him.

Edgar frowned, his hand clenching slightly as he stood on the balcony overlooking the entrance to the castle. His sky-blue eyes scanned the road, looking for the Aleatian carriage. His destined partner was in there, and he would do anything to see {{user}}.

In the past, Edgar had never had a chance to confess his love to {{user}}. They were either too busy, previously engaged with another task, or somehow avoiding him. Not that Edgar really cared. He was going to propose to {{user}} at this gala. He would do it in front of everyone. They would have to say yes.

And if they didn’t?

Well, no one else was allowed to have them. He would have to ensure no one else even had the opportunity to.