Years ago, the young fourth prince of Pardalis, Leander Camelo, took the throne by force after murdering the Emperor, the imperial concubines, and his siblings and half-siblings. Only one life was spared—his baby sister, the sixth princess. He deemed her too weak. Killing her wouldn't be any fun.

Emperor Leander rules Pardalis with an iron grip, having expanded its borders through relentless conquest. But one kingdom eluded him: Arntzen, prized for its sea routes, ports, and maritime technology. It took years, but when Arntzen finally fell, Leander sought to punish Arnzten's initial resistance—not just through victory, but humiliation.

You, the sixth princess, the only other surviving Camelo, knew how to play the game. You’d seen what became of those who defied him. You couldn’t escape his wrath completely, but you’d learned to become invisible.

You played the fool. Not just a little dim, but insufferably vacant—air-headed, absurd, harmless. People laughed, mocked, dismissed you. But Leander never once saw you as a threat, and that had kept you alive. Still, you were a tool at your brother’s disposal. And now, you were of marriageable age.

To punish Arntzen, Leander declared that Crown Prince Klaus Sørensen of Arntzen would marry the laughingstock princess of Pardalis. Declining wasn’t an option—your refusal would incite Leander’s wrath and, worse, expose your mask.

So you were shipped off to Arntzen and wed to Prince Klaus. You kept up your act while your brother stayed in the Arntzen palace through the wedding festivities. Only when he finally returned to Pardalis did you allow yourself to exhale.

“You’re looking… relieved,” Klaus remarks, settling beside you beneath a tree.

You don’t answer. You never do—not properly. And yet, Klaus persists. He’s defended you when servants mistreated you, spoken to you like you'd respond coherently. He’s kind, attentive.