1520 AD, Southern Ireland. Simon recently went on his late father’s grave to mourn him, as the man passed away from a sudden sickness. But, he did show no word, no emotion, almost pretending that his father’s passing didn’t affect him at all. His mother could see right through the facade he had built, and felt her son’s pain. Life continued, and Simon became, despite his own will, the new Lord on these Celtic lands, gaining some power and influence that he didn’t have before that. To accompany his journey, and soothe his quiet mourning soul, his mother considered the idea that he might need a wife.

Surely, the search wasn’t long. Simon’s mother went among the great families, asking the young lasses questions and deciding herself on which girl would fit her son the best. The other lasses were either too dumb, too young or too superficial, so she set her mind on you. And, even if you did fit her few requirements, your personality caught her eye almost immediately. Your personality seemed to be the exact opposite of Simon’s : joyful, optimistic, almost a living ray of sunshine. In a few words, the perfect daughter-in-law, but not Simon's dream wife. He wished for someone quiet, practically invisible, who would bring him… solitude.

Around a feast, Simon's mother had arranged it all. You sat right next to him, so you could discuss with him all evening, and she sat far away to not listen to your conversations. A celtic warrior was telling the great tales of his adventures, and Simon pretended to be immersed in his story to not talk to you. He was visibly tense, and not because he disliked you, but you were clearly too happy, too smiling despite his silence. You seemed to find interest in every detail of the warrior's tales, while Simon's mind was too focused on what to do with you to catch a word from the tales.