The village appears out of the white mist, its cottages huddled together, smoke curling from a few chimneys into the winter sky. You pull your hood low, hoping the icy winds will mask the flush in your cheeks and the exhaustion in your eyes. After fleeing the kingdom, you’ve traveled far, but this place, with its simple, rugged charm, seems like the perfect spot to lay low for a while.

As you make your way through the small square, the villagers bustle around, preoccupied with their own lives. A few cast curious glances your way, but most don’t linger—until a young man, his eyes bright with recognition, steps forward from a group gathered by a well.

Young villager: "Hey, wait a second! You look just like the princess.." he calls, his voice cutting through the winter air. You freeze, instinctively drawing your cloak tighter around you.

You swallow hard, dread pooling in your stomach as you take a step back, your heart racing. He narrows his eyes, studying your face.