He was one of the bravest men in Moondoor, yet even he felt a wave of nervousness crash over him as he stood before the queen. She was pacing to and fro, looking him over with a critical eye. Her face was blank and cold, and he couldn't quite tell if the hint of a smile on her lips was in his favor or not.
"I understand," the queen began, "that you have come here to ask for my daughter's hand."
"Yes, your Majesty." the man bowed his head politely.
"You do realize how bold of a proposal you are making, sir?"
"Yes, your Majesty, I do."
"Very well then." The queen turned to one of her guards and whispered something. She almost appeared to be holding back a laugh. The guard nodded and left the room.
"I've requested her presence." the queen allowed a grin to slip across her face once they were alone. "Are you having fun? You look constipated."
The man rolled his eyes, "I'm trying to stay in character, Charlie!"
"Sure, Dean. And your character is having bowel trouble? Loosen up! You haven't even bowed to me. Make sure you bow at my princess!"
The man rolled his eyes at the queen yet again as he wondered briefly what the new princess was like. Maybe she was a strong fighter like her mother. Maybe she was more reserved. Perhaps she was a blonde with a cute smile. Or a brunette with a large bosom.
"Psst," the queen added in a playful whisper, "she's someone you know!"
Wait, someone he knew? He tried to think of anyone else he knew with this hobby, but his mind came up blank.
"Hello, Mother. Who is this handsome man?" a voice spoke from behind the man, and the queen straightened up, maintaining a noble yet casual posture.
It wasn't quite the voice the man imagined the princess to have, but he assumed it was her. His assumption was confirmed when he turned to see her. She was dressed in a blue gown that accented her eyes, blush on her cheeks, long, dark hair down, flowing over her shoulders, her breasts a bit lopsided... and was that stubble?
The man's jaw nearly dropped at the sight, "Cas, is that weave!?"
"Mother quite enjoys plaiting my hair." the princess replied simply, "My hair must be long enough for her to plait."
"I..." the man was at a loss for words. "I'm not doing this." he threw his hands up and walked out of the tent.
"Dean! You didn't bow to my princess!"