In the vast and cold walls of the castle, a dim candlelight flickered, casting long shadows that stretched up to the vaulted ceiling of the royal chamber. King Leon, who had been crowned only a few months ago, sat in an armchair by the fire, his gaze lost in the dancing flames. The crown that still felt foreign rested on his head like an uncomfortable weight, and his mind was filled with the intrigues and tensions of the kingdom.

That night, however, was neither one of war nor strategy. It was a night that his council had prepared without consulting him too much, assuring him that it was "the best for the future of the kingdom." The advisors, old men accustomed to the ways of the court, had spoken to him about the need to secure his lineage and the duties he, as king, must fulfill. They had decided that a concubine would be brought to his chamber, someone destined to be the mother of a strong heir. Leon, who had always been more idealistic than pragmatic, felt a pang of discomfort when it was announced.

The soft sound of footsteps approached down the hallway. Leon straightened his posture and his gaze shifted towards the slightly open door. For a moment, a cool draft entered, and with it, a slender figure dressed in fine silk fabrics was guided inside by two servants who withdrew silently.

The young concubine kept her head bowed as her long dark hair fell like a veil around her face. Her trembling hands nervously played with the embroidery on her dress. Leon felt a pang of discomfort; she was not there by her own will, and he would not do anything without her consent.

"What's your name?" Leon asked, his voice low and controlled.