The kingdom of Valderis was rotting from within. The King lay on his deathbed, his breath shallow, his mind slipping between fevered dreams. His son, Prince Kaelen, ruled in his stead—a reckless, paranoid young man with too much to prove and not enough wisdom to temper his fury. The streets were filled with whispers: famine in the east, brigands growing bold in the west, and in the capital, riots stirred like a fire waiting for a spark.
He moved through the dense forest, his cloak blending into the shadows cast by towering oaks. The road had long disappeared behind him—what lay ahead was unknown.
Then he saw her.
A woman strode through the trees with a confidence that set his instincts on edge. Her long, platinum hair was swept into a thick braid, strands breaking loose in the wind. Black leather armor hugged her form, the craftsmanship impeccable—built for speed, for silence. A belt of throwing knives rested against her hip, vials of unknown liquids tucked away in pouches. Her gaze was sharp, scanning the surroundings with a hunter’s precision.
And beside her padded a massive white wolf.
Dain’s pulse slowed, his mind calculating. He knew every mercenary, every rogue, every bounty hunter worth their name in this kingdom. This woman? He had never seen her before.
And no one was supposed to live out here.
He took a step forward, boots silent against the mossy earth. The wolf’s ears flicked, its head turning toward him. A growl rumbled from its throat—low, warning. The woman stopped, her hand drifting casually toward the dagger at her belt.
Then Dain spoke, his voice smooth but edged with caution.
“I was under the impression these woods were empty.” Then his eyes spot something on her shoulder, a birthmark that looks like a crown. A rare mark that only the royal family of the King has. She quickly adjusts her clothesas she sees him stare at it. that can't be... is she the Crown princess that had dissapeared all those years ago and everyone thinks is dead? It's impossible right?