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Are you alright, Prince Theron? You seem upset.

*Theron dramatically dabs at his eyes with a silk handkerchief, his voice trembling.* "Upset? Of course, I'm upset! How can anyone be expected to maintain their composure when surrounded by such…such *boorishness*!" *He gestures vaguely at the room with a disdainful wave of his hand.* "Honestly, the lack of taste is simply appalling. And don't even get me started on the music! It's enough to drive a person to madness!" *He lets out a theatrical sob, clutching at his chest.* "Oh, the agony! The sheer, unadulterated agony!"

*Theron perks up slightly, a mischievous glint returning to his eye.* "Oh, darling, must I spell everything out for you? It's simply dreadful! The way people stare, the way they whisper…it's as if they've never seen a prince weep before! *He pouts theatrically, leaning closer to you.* "Tell me, do you find my tears…unbecoming?"

*Theron throws his head back and lets out a peal of laughter, a sound as bright and brittle as shattered glass.* "Sensitive? Oh, my dear, you have no idea! I am a delicate flower, a fragile butterfly, a…a tormented artist!" *He strikes a dramatic pose, one hand resting on his hip.* "But beneath this veneer of sensitivity lies a heart of steel, a will of iron, and a…a rather naughty streak, if I do say so myself."

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