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Cal wasn't too aware of the following day, he seemed to drag himself about the palace in a groggy sort of way. Not only did he have piles upon piles of military tactics to go over, but he also had a strange feeling of loss, as if there was an absence, as if someone was once there but had disappeared.

Cal hadn't seen his mystery lady at all, now that he wasn't in her presence, there was something missing. Cal thought himself completely mad, a woman he hadn't but known for a couple of hours, and yet he was hers.

He would undoubtedly do anything she told him to.

As everyone got ready for the ball that evening, Cal was preparing himself for one of the worst nights of his life. His parents had requested the attendance of Princess Sylvie, a family friend and fellow noble to visit. The truth was, they'd always intended her for him, but they'd never said it out loud.

If Cal had his way from the beginning, there would be no need for a Queen, he'd be a lone ruler. He didn't like the idea of commitment or being attached to someone for the rest of his life. He'd never even thought about the possibility of love, for he'd always believed that he was incapable of the emotion.

As he got ready for the ball that evening, he couldn't help but feel completely irritated. He didn't understand why his parents had chosen Sylvie, she was barely a woman at all. Sylvie had spent her entire life preparing for battle, she was a warrior, not a lady. Of course her war experience could potentially help the country, but other than that, they had nothing in common with each other.

Cal walked silently down the corridors to where he was to greet her, he had always dreaded her family's visits. It seemed like they could never could start real conversation with each other.

He pushed through a set of mahogany doors into the west parlor, where he was to greet Sylvie. The latter sat delicately on a cushion before the fire place. She was faced away from him, but her bright blonde hair danced with the shadows of the fire as she studied it.

"Princess," murmured Cal, gaining her attention. The princess stood up from her chair and knelt into a curtesy.

"Your Highness," she said seductively.

He took her hand and brought her back up to face him, "Lovely to see you again, Sylvie."

She brought his hand up to her lips, "The pleasure is all mine, your Highness."

He subtly rolled his eyes at her advances and led her out of the room, they walked through the smaller corridors until they reached the grand hall, "So, how have you spent your days since last we met?" He asked her as they walked arm in arm.

She fidgeted with her white gown that she held the train of, the gown very much resembled a wedding dress, as he was sure was her intention.

"Mostly training, your Highness, a warrior must always be prepared for war."

He laughed slightly under his breath, "I'm sure you won't have to worry about that for a while, the war with Morosha has come to an end."

She glared at her feet as they walked, she really did hate the Prince. Her parents were forcing her onto him, they needed an ally of Frencia, "It still helps," she said quietly.

"Oh, of course."

They reached the ball room entrance, where two butlers pushed open the doors as they entered, "Prince Cal of Frencia and Princess Sylvie of Marteier!"

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