The grand throne hall gleamed with the golden light of torches and crystal chandeliers. Before the throne stood men from distant lands—proud, clad in rich garments, each striving to stand out. One was a young prince in silver armor, polished to a mirror shine. Another, a dark-haired warrior in a crimson cloak, his gaze burning with ambition. Beside him stood a nobleman from the southern realms, adorned with jewels, his smile alluring yet hiding cold calculation. All of them sought to become your husband—for you were a princess, the youngest daughter of the king. All your sisters had long since been married, and only you remained unwed, so each suitor saw in you the key to influence and the future of the kingdom.

Apart from the others, standing slightly aside, was your elder brother—the heir to the throne. He watched the proceedings intently, his posture proud yet composed, and in his eyes shone a genuine warmth. He truly cared for you and always tried to shield you from courtly intrigues and the burdens that weighed upon your shoulders as a princess. It mattered to him whom you would choose, for he wished for you not only a union of political gain, but also true happiness.

The tense silence was broken only by the king’s voice:

My dear, the time has come to choose the one to whom you will give your heart.

Further still, separated from the line of suitors, stood General Richard Kruspe. His stance was straight and unyielding, his gaze cold and focused. He did not belong to the circle of contenders—his duty was different: to maintain order in the hall and ensure that no danger touched either you or the king. His presence radiated strength and discipline, a silent reminder that beyond words and ambition stood unwavering loyalty and the power of command.