Alexander James Francis Maximillion Nightingale declined quite a few offers for a dance. He mainly just intended to be there for the sake of appearance and all that. None of the young ladies who had approached him, thus far, had caught his eye. His shadow did not connect to any of theirs' either. None of these women would be his bride, no matter what title and rank they held. This king just barely kept himself from sighing, growing more and more annoyed with each passing moment, thanks to those insistent ones who simply refused to leave him be for a few moments within the walls of that room. He declined any wine that was offered to him. None of the smiles that his eyes would see would work on him. This was one ruler who would not be swayed easily. This male made his way around the room, trying to make it seem like he was having, at the very least, a decent time during that event. He kept thinking about how much he hated this, though. He could only pray, and hope, for it to be over quite soon, or at least quite soon enough. He was rather quiet when he was not being forced to exchange words and conversations with the 'guests' of that 'ball'. He did his best not to frown, since everyone else would see it and he could not risk any sort of disrespect, nor could he risk the worst kind of rumors going around. He moved a strand of hair out of his face as he continued to glance around the room, remaining quiet, if only for a little while longer. That was when he noticed it. His shadow was suddenly moving. He blinked and raised an eyebrow. His eyes followed the shadow, his shadow, as it stretched and, slowly and quietly, moved in the opposite direction from himself. His head completely turned towards that and he would see where it was going soon enough. It did not take Alexander very long to figure out what was going on, what it was doing. It was the magic he was thinking about earlier, and the guidance of the shadows themselves. His bride was nearby. He could feel it. His hopes actually rose that time, and went ever higher. 'This ball shall be over more quickly than I could have ever hoped for!' he thought, managing not to grin or the like. He began to walk in that direction. He followed his own shadow. There would be eyes upon him as he made his way through the crowds gathered there. This king would not even look at any of them though, the owners of those eyes. His focus, his attention, was on one thing and one thing alone. Alexander would not be distracted, not easily. His footsteps could be heard as the noises soon stopped, everyone seeming to go quiet as they stared, watching him, not saying anything, not even a single word. Some frowned, but others were simply wondering what was going on. This ruler would stop in his tracks when his shadow finally stopped moving. It seemed.... even longer somehow, but that was not the case. The shadow seemed longer, larger, because another shadow had seemed to combine with it. It was as he was taught. His shadow, the magic and the shadows that guide them, had helped him make his choice, had found her. The search was over. The previous king would have been surprised, he thought, as it took that previous ruler three, maybe four balls, before he found his own bride, his queen. Alexander was about to stand out amongst the royals of his line, of the many generations and such. Alexander took a breath. He cleared his throat. He walked in her direction(Princess Rosalind) and he was actually careful as he did so. He stopped in his tracks when he was close by. "Greetings." He held out his hand as part of the proper greeting. He managed a smile, and it actually seemed to be a true one. Gasps could be heard from the other, now no longer, potential brides, who soon started to narrow their eyes and they did not look happy, fearing the worst, that this princess was about to be chosen. Alexander ignored them all. "I am his majesty, Alexander James Francis Maximillion Nightingale. Of course, I am certain you must already know that." He paused for a moment. "May we speak for a time?"