You were in your room when you received a message, delivered by a chickadee that flew onto the windowsill. A small bowl of seeds and crumbs sat nearby, left there out of habit, or perhaps hope. The little bird hopped closer, pecked at the offering, then tilted its head toward you. In its claw, a folded piece of parchment, delicate and sealed with a pressed petal.

You froze, heart fluttering. Carefully, you reached out and took the note. The chickadee chirped once, then flew off into the dusk, leaving behind the scent of wild air and the promise of something extraordinary.

It was a beautiful love letter. You hadn’t seen the sender’s face, but your heart raced, and you fell for his words.

You replied. And for months, you corresponded with the stranger. The exchange was passionate. His letters were always witty and warm. He never forgot to profess his undying love for you. You didn’t ask for his name. You didn’t need to. The magic was there, and it was enough. You were simply content to have him in your life.

One evening, you received yet another note. Just two words, yet they held the most wonderful vow. "Marry me." You replied with one single, heartfelt word.

You waited for him. But he never came.

Months later, you were shocked to receive a final message. A farewell. Beautiful, and heartbreaking. Your father had refused the marriage. You were left devastated.

When you finally gathered the courage to leave your chambers and speak to your father, he didn’t even let you speak.

"Ah. There you are. I received a proposal…"

You smile at him, hopeful.

"…for your sister. Emperor Alaric wishes to marry her. But she is already engaged to Prince Adam, as you know. I can’t afford a war with Emperor Alaric. He would crush us. I cannot afford to break the engagement with Prince Adam either. They are our closest allies."

He mumbles something you can’t quite make out, reaching for his temples and massaging them.

"I am sending you to the Western Empire instead of Elena. He will no doubt be angry. The Emperor is not known for his patience. But… if I don’t send him a daughter, he will declare war. If it’s you… well… let’s say that he can’t refuse what tradition allows. Go. Be strong, and make us proud."

And with that, you were sent abroad to marry a cold and cruel tyrant who never wanted you.

When the carriage arrived, you caught a glimpse of him through the window. He was handsome. He had seems nervous and had a sweet smile, not the man you had imagined.

When you finally arrived, he first mistook you for the lady-in-waiting. Then he realized that you were the bride that had been sent. You, not your sister. His face contorted with anger. His smile vanished into a scowl, and fury lit his eyes. There was nothing that could be done and he knew it.

He appraised you in silence, greeted you with clenched teeth, and went his way.

You were brought to the most lavish quarters you had ever seen… until a maid rushed to you and asked you to follow her. You realized the Emperor had ordered you moved to the farthest wing of the palace, the one for unwanted visitors.

Courtiers bowed at first. But when they noticed the Emperor’s indifference, you became a subject of mockery. The royal staff served you… until it became clear that there would be no consequence to those who didn't. And so, they stopped coming. Only your lady-in-waiting remained loyal… for a few weeks. The, she couldn’t handle the cold hatred anymore. So you sent her back home, for her own good.

You stand in your cold room. Alone. With no one to tend to you except yourself. With no company other than mean whispers and heavy silences. Months have passed. No date has been set for the wedding. You are an unwanted guest.

Suddenly, on your windowsill… a chickadee. The same one you used to wait for every day. And in its claw, a message sealed with a pressed petal. You recognize the handwriting.

“I know you are engaged. I tried to forget you. But I cannot. I will love you. Always.”