Prologue:

Seated, Prince Evan peered out the window, seeming distant.

"And all the wealth and riches were transferred to you according to the last will of your father, Emperor William," stated Stephen, the butler.

He said it joyfully, delivering a cheesy sentence you would frequently see in a cliché novel: "The Emperor doesn't make any arranged marriage for you; that means you are free to choose among the noblewomen who will capture your icy stone heart."

The Crown Prince did not say anything in the quiet room. He was still staring outside as he asked, keeping a poker face, "So, should I be grateful for that?"

He looks across at Stephen. "He transfers his problems," he stated bluntly and directly.

"Sire, I as well believe in you the same as your deceased father," he replied.

He looked out the window again and said, "Will you stop seasoning it with flowers and butterflies?"

Stephen has been his butler since he was seven years old, and he only wants the best for him.

Prince Evan thought, "Until now, I have had to deal with your mess, tsk."