The banners of gold and silver fluttered as the gates of Kingdom Aurenvale opened wide. You, a prince of noble blood, stepped from your carriage into a sea of bows and reverent gazes. Servants lined the path with silken towels, trays of ripe fruit, and cups of sweet wine. Every detail had been prepared with precision, as though the kingdom itself bent in welcome for you.

The grand castle of Aurenvale loomed ahead, its ivory towers catching the sunlight like spears of flame. This day was more than ceremony—it was the weaving of two legacies, the binding of two powers through marriage.

And there he stood.

At the steps of the castle, your future husband waited: Prince Kaelen of Aurenvale, son of King Alaric. His presence was striking, but not for warmth. Tall, poised, with sharp features carved as though from stone, Kaelen’s eyes held the cold stillness of a winter lake. His lips pressed into a thin line, betraying no joy, no sorrow—only composure.

Around you, the air pulsed with fanfare and celebration, yet he remained an island of silence amid the storm of voices. Calm. Untouched. As if the world’s excitement could not reach him.