"The crown prince has arrived." A wave of whispers swept over the ballroom.
Tyrion Castro, the crown prince of the Castro kingdom, entered the ball.
Tonight, Tyrion faced a duty he greatly despised. He needed to choose a bride.
"Prince Tyrion, might I have the honour of being your first dance?" came a request from a young lady.
Behind this woman was her mother, who shared endless compliments of her daughter. The compliments were relentless, reminding Tyrion of the farmers hawking their livestock to anyone passing by.
"No," Tyrion replied curtly. . "Your mother seems eager so dance with her."
It was like this each time he had to attend a ball with the offers pouring in. Mothers would go to any lengths to thrust their daughters into his path so they might have the chance at becoming queen.
Rather than act interested, as the palace court insisted, Tyrion preferred letting them down rather than give false hope.
"Oh," a young lady stumbled, falling in his direction.
A tiny smile spread across her lips as she finally had his attention. She presented herself as the first damsel.
Tyrion stepped back so she would continue to fall.
He had seen this trick before.
"You must be more careful," he told the young woman who stared at him from the floor.
"Prince Tyrion," she gasped, surprised he had not swooped in.
Since she would go to such lengths to get his attention, Tyrion thought it was only fair she had to see it through even when the plan failed.
Tyrion walked around the young woman, who seemed to find the floor to be quite comfortable.
His lack of gentlemanly behaviour, as his mother would describe it, did nothing to stop the others from trying to approach him.
"Prince Tyrion," an eager mother pushed her daughter forward. "If you would give my daughter a moment of your time to speak in private, you would find she is a wonderful company. I have raised quite the beauty," she touched her daughter's face.
"Why would I waste my time with a woman whose mother is suggesting that we be alone? If sending her off so easily is your plan, I suggest you find the district where men would take the offer without a second thought," Tyrion replied.
With these few interactions, Tyrion was ready to go.
Tyrion snuck off to the garden where only a few servants and the guards roamed.
"It must be my lucky night to stumble upon you here, Milady."
Tyrion sighed, annoyed.
He had stumbled onto a couple.
"Leroy, you did not stumble upon me as you say. I turned down your hand for a dance along with your offer for us to wed. You followed me here in the darkness of the garden where if we were to be found alone, it would be scandalous. Please leave me alone."
The familiar voice sparked Tyrion's interest in the conversation. It was none other than Penelope Collins, daughter of the renowned duke who was close to the king.
Tyrion quietly slipped around the maze bush, still unnoticed by the pair.
"Milady," Leroy grabbed Penelope's hand. "If you would only give me a moment of your time, you would find that I make a wonderful match. I have a home which is most suited for a lady like yourself."
Penelope frowned, annoyed by the repeated offer. She came outside to get away from all the marriage proposals and the offers to dance, only to walk into another proposal.
Penelope tried to pull her hand out of Leroy's hold, but she wasn't successful. "We are not suited for each other. I know that like many others, you are only seeking to wed me because of my father's wealth."
Leroy did not want to leave before he got what he came for. "I am only asking for a moment. Must you act like you are too good for everyone? I am a good match for you."
"What about you will make a good match for her?" Tyrion inquired, stepping into the light to make his presence known. "I am curious."
Tyrion placed himself between Penelope and Leroy. With a swift yet gentle motion, Tyrion freed Penelope's hand from Leroy's hold. Then, without warning, Tyrion held onto Leroy's hand, forcing him to be as uncomfortable as Penelope once was.
Tyrion's voice remained calm as he asked, "Would you have her move into the house where your pregnant maid carries your child. The house you're gambling away, digging yourself deeper into debt? Is this the life you think fits Lady Penelope?"
Leroy glanced at Penelope. Beads of sweat trickled down the sides of his face now that his secrets were out.
A nervous laugh escaped Leroy's lips. "The prince has heard wrong."
"Leave before I throw you out of the palace," Tyrion said, releasing Leroy's hand so he could run back to his hole.
"I was having a moment with Lady Penelope. I might not get another chance with all the gentlemen competing for her hand-"
Tyrion yanked Leroy's shirt, forcing him onto his toes. "If I were vying for her hand, do you still think you'd stand a chance?"
"N-No," Leroy shook his head. "Forgive me."
"You are forgiven." Tyrion let go of Leroy's shirt. "Look at you," he said as he tried to fix the wrinkles. "How did you become such a mess?"
Penelope could not believe her ears that Tyrion would ask such a question after he ruined Leroy's shirt. Still, she was happy to see Leroy leave. "Thank you for sending him away."
Tyrion frowned, his anger simmering. "I expected a dull night, but you made it interesting. Wandering off alone isn't safe for you when every bachelor inside is after your or your sister's hand. What were you thinking?"
"I wanted a break. I hadn't seen him following me, or I would have gone back to my family's side. When will this end?" Penelope asked, desperate for the proposals to stop.
"It will only end when you pick a man to become your husband. A man like Leroy isn't good for you. Instead of picking from among those scoundrels, pick me instead," Tyrion said, offering his hand for Penelope to be his first dance.