It had been two weeks since that stargazing evening, and Celestia found herself in an increasingly precarious position. Despite her best efforts, she had not been able to drive Prince Adrian away. The more outlandish her behavior became, the more persistent he seemed, like a force of nature that would not be denied.
She paced in the drawing room, running her fingers over the back of an ornate chair as she reflected on the recent events. Hugo had been right about one thing—Adrian was stubborn. And what's more, he was unnervingly... unpredictable. He didn't recoil from her antics; he leaned into them with a sort of quiet amusement that made her increasingly unsettled.
"Ugh, what is it about him?" Celestia muttered aloud, slumping into the chair. She sighed deeply, staring out of the window, where the autumn leaves fluttered in the breeze. "Why can't he just give up?"
