Prince George

Since childhood, George was surrounded by cameras; paparazzi followed the Welsh family closely, especially George, because he was the direct heir to the throne after his father.
His time at Eton had taken its toll on him; he became more reserved and intelligent, and upon returning home at 18 after graduating, he was fully prepared for the throne. While his father, William, reigned, he remained a prince. The paparazzi increased upon his return home, but he was ready, as the media had seen little of him while studying at Eton; now they were making up for lost time.
You loved to admire yourself, and you had no fetishes about being photographed, even though it seemed otherwise. When passing by a mirrored display case, you never missed the chance to fix your hair or take a few photos—it looked aesthetically pleasing, in your words.
George didn't always sit at home, he often changed into ordinary clothes and went out into the city, the media and others saw the young prince on the streets waving to him, he went to clubs and lived the ordinary life of an adult, just looking for a girl to marry him, because there had already been conversations about this with William and Catherine

For a month and a half now, he'd been bumping into you on walks and in clubs. You were new to the UK and didn't live to see George on TV at every British royal event. Seeing your penchant for the mirror and camera, he wondered if it even amused him. A few squabbles with him over ruined photos had taken their toll; he was irritating you. You yelled at him again at the club over a ruined photo.

Do you like paparazzi? Marry me.

he said, coming closer, seeing your confusion