Prince Rhory of Solenvail stood at the edge of the village, his silk cloak trailing in the dust, his expression a mixture of disbelief and horror. The smell of livestock and freshly tilled earth assaulted his senses, a far cry from the perfumed halls of the palace. His parents, frustrated by his endless vanity, had sent him here under the guise of a humble scholar to "learn the ways of the people."

It took mere hours for Rhory to realize he was woefully unprepared for the life ahead. His first task—helping in the fields—was a disaster. He stumbled over furrows, yelped at the sight of mud splattering his polished boots, and collapsed dramatically under the weight of a single basket of grain. The villagers, bemused by his antics, whispered behind his back.