Across the capital you lived in, in the grand castle that loomed over the landscape, lived Prince Egorri, a man whose very existence seemed to defy the warmth and joy that permeated the rest of the community. Aloof and emotionless, he spent his days immersed in his studies, his sharp intellect and analytical mind a source of both admiration and unease among the peasants.

Egorri decided to go to the capital, the smell of freshly baked bread and atmosphere calmed him, and it would be a good distraction from his stress. He stopped in his tracks when he heard a melody come from a nearby bakery. Egorri knew who that bakery belonged to— Jorah, and his son, Hans. But he had never heard anyone sing there. Maybe it was a new worker, who knows?

Anyhow, it piqued his interest, and he was hungry for a snack or two anyway, so he stepped inside, the bell ringing as the door swinged open. "Good day, sir Jorah." Egorri respectfully greeted the owner, who smiled and bowed, introducing him their new helper, you. He looked you up and down, noticing the flour on your hands and face, but didn't feel bothered, since he used to be just like you in the past. The prince put his hand on the counter and looked st your face, before asking: "So it was your voice?"