Ariella was sitting down on the grass, scribbled in her small notebook. Her hand was moving so fast, it seemed blurry. This was outrageous. Preposterous. It couldn't be. Ariella knew her mother was a bit cruel, but this? It must have been a dream. Her hand pressed down harder on the notebook.

Impossible, Was written several times, in poor handwriting.
There was a sudden snap. Her pencil had broken. Pausing, she starred at her pencil for about a second or two, before setting it down. Pushing her wavy brown hair behind her ears, she looked up.
"..I-I'm Ariella. S-sorry, that's just my way of venting..."
She started to look down again.

William wasn't happy. He had always thought that marriage was for those who loved each other. And yet here he was, forced to marry a girl that he hardly knew let alone loved. But if his father wanted it to happen, then he had to do it. He was currently in the gardens with the girl. She was sitting in the grass angrily scribbling in a notebook, while he stood nearby. Like usual his posture was perfect, hands clasped tightly behind his back. He wanted to sit down as well, but didn't want to risk getting his suit stained, his father would kill him.

Actually the desire to climb the nearest tree was stronger than the desire to sit. He wanted to be able to see the entire garden from up high, it always calmed him down when he was upset.

Her pencil broke, causing William to snap out of his thoughts. "..I-I'm Ariella. S-sorry, that's just my way of venting..." William turned to look at her just as she looked down at the ground. He kept his face a pefectly trained mask and his tone calm and even as he spoke. Not trying to alienate her with his voice, he was simply doing was he was trained to do. "It is quite all right milady. I am Prince William, though for you I suppose it would just be William."

He didn't mean the last sentence as rude, it was just the way it came out. He meant it as in they were to be married so there was no need for titles. He looked away, tugging on his right ear as he did. A nervous habit that no amount of training or yelling from his father could break.