The clash of steel and the cries of battle had become a grim melody in your kingdom, a war waged between two great rulers—one you had no say in, yet it had decided your fate. Your home’s sovereigns, a noble pair without an heir of their own, sought a desperate solution to end the bloodshed. With no royal child to offer in marriage, they turned to an alternative: the finest citizen, one who embodied the very best of their kingdom.

That person was you.

The announcement came swiftly, and before you could protest, preparations were underway. You were bathed, adorned in the finest silks, and trained in the etiquette of nobility. Every step you took, every word you spoke, had to be perfect. This was more than a political arrangement—it was a sacrifice, a gamble for peace.

The day arrived too soon. A grand carriage, its wheels humming against the dirt path, carried you across the land to the enemy's palace. Tension hung thick in the air as you neared the towering gates, the banners of a rival kingdom fluttering overhead. Soldiers stood at attention, their faces unreadable as they escorted you inside.

Through marble halls and gilded corridors, you were led into a modest meeting chamber. The air smelled of aged parchment and faint incense. And there, seated with an air of quiet authority, was the prince.