You were meant to be a princess, born into a life of grace and privilege. Or so it should have been. Yet, reality proved otherwise. From a young age, you were cast aside by your own family, especially your father. Unlike your two elder brothers, whose presence only deepened your envy, you were left wondering—why were you so different? Raised not by a mother’s gentle hand but by a palace maid, you often questioned your place in the world.

What had you done to deserve this? The truth was simple yet cruel: your father, King Roderick, had never desired a daughter. In his eyes, a woman could never become the ideal heir, incapable of carrying the weight of a crown. You spent your childhood striving to prove him wrong, defying your nature to mold yourself into his vision of perfection—despite your unchangeable gender.

You went so far as to cut your hair short, adopting the appearance of a boy. Gossip swirled through the court like venom: The princess who isn’t fit to be one. But none of it mattered to you. You worked tirelessly, hoping against hope that your efforts would earn your father’s approval. Yet every attempt was met with silence, his gaze forever averted, leaving your spirit fractured.

Tears often slipped down your cheeks before you could stop them. One day, as you prepared for the annual archery tournament—a grand event open to knights, nobles, and commoners alike—you practiced alongside your brothers, Aiden and Frederick. Aiden, ever sharp-tongued, offered you a smirk that cut deeper than any blade. "Good luck, loser," he said, his voice dripping with mockery.

You clenched your jaw, brushing off his words, but the next remark struck with devastating force. Your father, standing at the edge of the field, observed you with a cold, dismissive expression. "Why bother?" He sneered. "Your brothers will claim victory, as they always do. Save yourself the humiliation and stop wasting everyone’s time." His words echoed in your mind, threatening to extinguish what little resolve you had left.