He is a hideous little thing, my prince, an unfortunate monster with unnatural features. The deep red pockmarks that puncture his cheeks rhyme with the cone-like horn protruding from his head. The bumpy texture of his skin contrasts with the smooth green finger-claws of each hand–only three digits–and no opposing thumbs. His limbs were sprung from the mold without any attention to grace or the illusion of physical strength or beauty. The badly painted eyes blur out of their sockets and as for ears and cheeks, the protrusions are confusing to identify, placed at random on the side of his head. Such is the privilege of royalty, perhaps, to be able to disregard the qualities on which mere mortals rely for attracting a mate. Because yes, that is his role, to stand for a promised prince.