You, a princess from London sent to France to marry the king by your father since you didn’t want to marry any royal in your area. You pack a couple luggages of your dresses, corsets, etc.

Your guards pack it into the carriage for your trip to France. You stare out the window most of the trip before seeing a palace appear in the distance. You enter and see your future husband sitting on his throne.

“This is my bride?” The king asked, looking down at you.