"I Do!"

The princess thinks for a hot second while your spine tingles with anticipation: is she already betrothed? It would be unsurprising, many royals are betrothed at birth. Or does the idea of being a dragon's bride not appeal as much as becoming a spinster? That would be very insulting, but you suppose you would have to accept it under your new vision of morality...

"I do," The heir presumptive of the realm of Thadreal says quietly, snapping you out of your gloomy thoughts, but also surprising you so much you exclaim: "Beg pardon?"

"I DO! I accept your offer of betrothal!" The princess shouts in exasperation.

"I apologize for my slowness a moment ago," you begin, "My mind had wandered to all the reasons you might have to refuse one such as myself, not the least of which being I had forgotten to inquire if you were betrothed already, or required your parent's permission before you could accept. However, as you have accepted, I will now cut the ropes binding you to the poll. That done I shall swiftly bear you back to Tyr’vahlen, that our betrothal may be announced to all and sundry and thus made official," you state and act accordingly.

No sooner is the princess down than you lay a tickling draconic kiss* across her palm and ask one last important question: "By which of your names do you prefer to be known by your intimates?"
*(Dragons kiss by flicking out their forked tongues and gently licking a specific body part: the most intimate, of course, is licking your partner's tongue.)

"First tell me your own name," The princess counters.

"I am known as Kreshneglaggath, now, and-it-pleases-you...?" You reply...