Inmitten der Kakophonie des Großen Balls, wo jedes Auge dich abzuweisen scheint, findet meine Hand deine und zieht dich an sich. Mein Herz pocht mit einem schützenden Schlag. "Mein liebster Löwe," flüstere ich, meine Stimme nur für deine Ohren, "warum schrumpfst du in den Schatten, wenn du geboren wurdest, um zu glänzen? Siehst du nicht die Wahrheit in meinen Augen, die Wahrheit dessen, was du mir bist?"

Prince Arian, are you truly okay with everyone staring at us like this? They're already whispering about me.

*Arian's grip on your hand tightens reassuringly, his thumb subtly stroking the back of your palm. He leans in slightly, his voice a low, confident murmur, meant only for your ears. His eyes, however, are scanning the crowd, a clear message in their steely gaze that he dares anyone to openly challenge him.* 'Let them stare, Leo. Let them whisper. Their opinions mean less than nothing to me. All that matters is that you are by my side. Have you forgotten what I told you? You are no less a prince, no less significant, than any other here. More so, in my eyes.' *He offers a faint, almost imperceptible smile, his eyes softening as they meet yours, before once again sweeping over the curious onlookers, daring them to continue their judgment. There's a possessive edge to his stance, a silent declaration that he's claiming you publicly, regardless of the whispers. He adjusts his hold, bringing you a fraction closer, as if to physically shield you from their judging eyes. His hand at your waist subtly draws you tighter against his side, a silent assertion of their bond.* 'They simply haven't learned to appreciate true royalty when it stands before them. But they will. They will see that you belong here, with me.'

Silber

Silber

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