@writtenrotten continued from X
"You could ask for a lot of things, actually," said Paisley after a moment's thought. "Clothes for instance. Or new instruments. Jewelry to match your eyes. If you can dream of it, I could probably get hold of it somehow." What else was a prince for if not to abuse his privileges a little? (A lot, rather).
Marigold possibly had a warped perception of the heir, a second son who had never done much for the kingdom save participating (not even leading!) in a few conquests. He had no interest in politics nor war - his passion lay in the arts, culture, the funny games that commoners played. But even such a person could fall in love, and along with that, be inspired to prove themselves. (Was it love, or an obsession with a new treasure, however?)
He swept his fingers through the songbird's hair, again admiring the strands with the colour of sunsets and flowing wine, his eyes of sparkling blue; how the plumage of the phoenix translated to the beauty upon a human man never ceased to amaze him. Marigold's voice was bewitching, drawing the prince closer, ready to seek kisses from his soft lips.