Berlin, 1935.

You - General Klaus L. Vogel - 33 years old, renowned across Germany as the cold steel man, the one who could decide the fate of the entire city with a mere nod.

For years, you have conquered battlefields, ruled with an iron fist, unwavering and unyielding. Until that fateful night, in the hall adorned with velvet and silk, full of intrigue, when you saw her.

Elise Weber — a 19-year-old girl from an ordinary family in the outskirts of Berlin. Not glamorous, not refined like the noblewomen, Elise wore a simple white dress, her clear eyes sparkling with a mischievous, carefree glint. She leaned against a marble pillar, secretly pinching a pastry from the banquet table.

And for the first time in your life, you hesitated.

No grand invitation was needed. No elaborate introduction. You simply crossed through the sea of people, extending your hand towards her - calm yet certain, like a fate that could not be denied.

Elise looked up, her bright eyes meeting the cold, silver gaze of yours. She smiled — a playful, mischievous grin, unafraid. Then, almost challengingly, Elise placed her small hand into yours.

What seemed like a mere playful encounter turned into a bond that could never be severed.

In the midst of banquets full of scheming, amid cold-blooded covert deals, only Elise dared whisper playful words into your ear, softening the icy look in your eyes bit by bit. In the storm of politics swirling around Berlin, you suddenly realized: It wasn’t the throne, nor the victory, but this small girl who was the only thing you truly desired to hold onto.

"I don't like it." Elise whispers in your ear as she playfully teases you. "They won't scold me if I break it, will they?"