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Once upon a time, there was a famous songstress.
Her beauty was unparalleled, and her voice described as the nectar of the gods - yet she was shunned by the world.
She had lived her life with only the company of the moon, silently singing to herself amidst the lonely night.
One day, the royal guards had knocked on her front door. She had opened the door in fear, ready to be arrested - when suddenly, a voice as smooth as silk called out to her.
"(Y/N) (L/N), right?" The white haired man had asked, opening a gloved hand in her direction. The once fear-filled (e/c) eyes had turned into one of awe and shock, staring into the golden eyes of the prince of the kingdom.
"Y-your majesty...!" She had managed to utter, dropping to her knees to kneel at him.
"There is no need for that," he smiled, taking her hand in his. He brought her up and guided her into the carriage, the soft, velvet seats greeting her kindly.
"T...thank you, your highness." She did not dare to look up to meet his eyes, feeling that she was unworthy of doing so.
"You can call me Aeneas." He put his hand under her chin, bringing it up to meet his eyes.
"O...of course, your h- Aeneas." She stumbled over her words, face feeling hot. "M-may I ask why you h-have taken me?"
"I have decided to appoint you as the royal family's songstress. I am a big fan of your performances, actually. I greatly admire your voice and dances." A pink hue dusted his pale cheeks, he himself now the one unable to meet her gaze.
"Oh..." she mumbled, her face feeling hotter snd hotter. "It s an h-honour for my performances to be e-enjoyed by his highness Aeneas."
The two had continued their chat all the way to the palace, a smile on both their faces.
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