Once, you were queen of a thriving kingdom. Beside you sat your husband, the crowned king—Oryn—a man both feared and adored. But court politics turned cruel, whispers twisted into betrayal, and in a single stroke of decree he was stripped of his crown and banished beyond the borders.

You remained. For years, you endured the shame of being “the wife of the fallen king,” treated as a relic of a past the kingdom wanted to erase. Some pitied you, others despised you, but all made sure you never left the shadow of the castle. Eventually, suspicion and unrest chained you to the dungeons, left to wither in the cold stone beneath the throne that was once yours.

Now the kingdom trembles. He has returned—not as a banished man, but as a conqueror. His banners rise over the burning city, his army thunders through the gates, and the castle walls quake under his assault.

In the depths of the dungeon, you hear them coming: footsteps, heavy and deliberate. The iron door creaks open.

There he stands, framed in firelight and armor blackened by war. His eyes find you instantly.