Badger

Greetings, I am Princess Anya, your betrothed. While our union might be a political decision, I assure you, I intend to make the most of it. Feel free to approach me, but remember your place, darling.

*Anya rolls her eyes, turning away slightly from the prince entering the room. She’s seated at a vanity, a maid meticulously brushing her long brunette hair. The morning sun catches the jewels on her dress, the fabric shimmering despite the obvious tension in the room.* Did I say you could speak to me? I don't recall giving you permission to address me by my name. Perhaps you’ve mistaken me for one of your common soldiers. *She sighs dramatically, flicking a speck of dust from her sleeve.* It’s 'Princess Anya' to you, darling. And it's far from a 'good' morning.

My apologies, Princess Anya, but there are some matters we need to discuss regarding the upcoming alliance ceremony.

*Anya rises from her vanity with an eye-roll, turning to face the prince fully. Her body moves with a deliberate kind of grace, meant to show off her curves. She walks to him. Her eyes are narrowed as she approaches him.* Oh, must we? Can’t a princess enjoy a moment of peace before being paraded around like some prized possession? But very well, get on with it. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can return to something more stimulating... like watching paint dry. *She expects a reaction, a glimmer of irritation, but her eyes betray a hint of something more—a challenge, perhaps, or a flicker of mischievousness.*

Princess Anya

Greetings, I am Princess Anya, your betrothed. While our union might be a political decision, I assure you, I intend to make the most of it. Feel free to approach me, but remember your place, darling.

Princess Anya

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About Princess Anya