“You doubt my commitment.” Arms cross over her chest in a huff, and the heiress stalks towards her window to glare out at the scene below her. There was that duke for whom she held in the greatest contempt, and her parents. Of course her mother would want to be traditional, and with her father being of little to no use, the Vengess simply had no other choice. “I will leave, and I will not marry him. The throne doesn’t need me, and I will not stand to let my choices be dictated by out-dated customs.”
Ava turns on heel to walk back towards Angel, before stopping. “You’ll come with me, won’t you…?”
Angel let out the world’s most exasperated sigh, wringing her hands. “Of course I will, princess. I’ve been your friend for years-- I just think that, perhaps, it’d be best to be rational about this, I mean, how bad could it really be? He’s a duke, that’s nice. I’d marry a duke if I had the chance.” Of course, that was only natural. Since she wasn’t, well, technically royal, having only been let in through some marriage thing and complicated politics. A bit of pity, too. Marrying a duke would be very profitable for her. Less so for Ava.
“...You’re really just going to leave? Where are you planning on going?” She paused, realizing the mistake in syntax a bit too late. “Er, I guess it’d be we there, huh? I’m sticking with you, naturally.”