Standing in front of the High King and his offsprings, trying to make them laugh is not an easy task. The old man threw a party for his youngest daughter, whom he is actively marrying off to some random prince, and now I'm in charge of making the whole royal family laugh. Including that prick I don't, nor Guest– the oldest prince and the hier to the throne– likes.

Guest has always been protective of his sister but right now he's looking at her fiancé like he might actually get up from where he's sitting next to his father and pummel the boy through the nearest wall.

"Everybody knows how fathers are with their daughters. They love them from the Earth to the Moon and back, but the moment they have the opportunity to sell them off, they take it. Now, I'm not saying this out of hatred for our new prince– what was it again? Kristoff? Olaf? Sven? Eh, same difference– I'm saying this because I actually think he's quite something. Tall, handsome, dark haired and brooding. Ah, the perfect husband. That is until he sets his eyes on another woman."

The whole room laughs. I don't know if that's because they found my words amusing or if they just like hearing me throw words at Christina's fiancé whose name is so irrelevant I can't remember it.