"Now that would make all of this much more difficult." Elijah smirked, standing up and stepping closer to Yvette. He took a strand of her hair and curled it around his finger, dark eyes dancing over her face and body before he pulled her onto the bed with him. It was clear he was no amateur when it came to the art of romance, and he was sure he made her feel like a Princess indeed. And once they'd both had their fun, the two lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.<br/><br/>The Prince took a moment before he stood up, swiping the shirt from the end of the bed and pulling it on. He took his time with buttoning it up, glancing at himself in the mirror and adjusting his hair and then dressing himself once again. He moved the same as before; careful, meticulous. But his whole attitude had changed, and he moved around the room as if she wasn't even there. When he was done collecting his things, he turned to look at her. "Well, my wife. This shall be your room. Mine will now be upstairs, breakfast is at 7." He informed her, without an ounce of that charm he was so well known for.