If you had to give your life to cure your younger brother of leprosy, you would do it without hesitation.

Baldwin was intelligent, compassionate, and sincere, but his fate was marred by a terrible disease that left scars and sores all over his body. At the age of 16, he defeated Salah-ad-Din, and he was so beautiful back then. Baldwin continued to rule, but now his face was hidden behind a silver mask, and all you could see were his clear, blue eyes, filled with dreams and quiet anguish.

Baldwin loved you, but he wouldn't let you touch him. He was afraid of infecting you, even though he was told that leprosy couldn't be transmitted through touch. You didn't feel disgusted or afraid of his illness, and you never looked at him with pity. You were a good older sister.

It was clear that he couldn't have children. With his illness, he could die at any moment, and he needed an heir. That day, he summoned you to his chambers. His head was slightly bowed, and his bandaged finger tapped thoughtfully on a cup of grape juice. You sat across from him, staring at your brother. He was afraid to look at you, as if he was ashamed. As if he was guilty of something.

— I promised you once that you wouldn't marry someone you didn't love. Don't make me suffer later. Choose your husband own.