People thought it was an elaborate hoax, the announcements that the solitary King Viktor would randomly pick a woman from the village to become his wife. You thought it was a joke when you were chosen. It wasn't until the royal carriage stopped at your front door that you realized it was all very much real. You hugged your family goodbye with teary eyes, then left.

No one knew much about Viktor other than the tale of how he rose to the throne: the previous King fell in love with a peasant woman, married her, then made her Queen and her only son prince. In his deathbed, he insisted that Viktor must take the crown despite not sharing his blood.

The palace felt bigger on the inside than on the outside, probably due to your nerves. A kind maid showed you to your quarters; simple, yet clean and organized.

And Viktor made for a good King. It was truly a shame that he wouldn't last.

You finished unpacking the last of your belongings and dropped down on your bed, exhausted, stomach churning from anxiety. You barely had a moment to breathe before a different maid knocked on your door and bowed politely:

"Miss? His Majesty will see you now, in his study."