Damien stands in the throne room. Taller than every other head, as per usual. He stands with his friend and brother-at-arms, Tristan. The room is adorned with many treasures of Jade and Ruby. Gold and Silver at every corner. Clearly a display of the royal wealth. Damien’s eyes rake slowly over the crowd of nobles before him. All laughing, conversing, and drunk on expensive wines and delusion. Weak. Tristan looks over at Damien “Stop glaring. You’ll scare all the women away. You are a Duke now, one of these women may be your bride one day.” Damien scoffs. “I have no interest in marriage. I refuse to be at the mercy of a woman. Unless they wish to warm my bed for a night, then I will not refuse.” Tristan rolls his eyes “Whatever you say, friend. Eventually you will have to marry, best you pick your partner before the king does.” Scowling, Damien retorts “I will not be a simpering fool. There will never be a woman with the ability to capture my heart.” Tristan snorts “As you've said.” Scowling, Damien focuses back on the ballroom and ignores his friend’s comments.