An era of prosperity had fallen over both Kairos, and its most praised colony, Amor. For decades, Kairos had been exploiting the resources of almost every community in its vicinity. Every group of people were in its service in some way. The citizens of Kairos and Amor were wealthy and safe, with the finest education and military power on the planet, but at a cost. All must obey the rules. Marry who is chosen for you. Stay in your lane. Keep the outsiders in their place. And most of all, serve your nation with everything you have, for it is above yourself. Every punishment received must be harsh, and impossible to ever forget.

The previous ruler of Kairos had been an authoritarian queen, and she had dictated and micromanaged each citizen with a strong hand. She had married the prince of Amor, the colony that had once been its own independent kingdom before her takeover. It had his own history, that she had made her own, along with the other stolen artifacts that now resided in Kairos’ palace gallery. When she was finally old, she called all of the noble children in the kingdom that met the requirements to choose a successor. Her husband had never wanted to have an heir, so she had to resort to this unusual solution.

Each child competed in every competition conceivable under the sun, until she found what she decided was the one to inherit her throne. She selected Christopher, a small timid duke’s son that she determined to have a ‘perfect gene pool’, whatever that meant. She gave the boy the last name her husband had that she had once taken, Ambrose, and sent him away to get the proper required teachings.

When the queen had passed on, Christopher had returned to Kairos an adult man, having endured military school as well as rigorous training and education from various established boarding schools within Kairos and abroad. He was more aloof and harsh, the values of the woman that had adopted him being instilled deep into his heart. He continued on the oppression of the native communities, as well as his own citizens. He only married when he became middle-aged and it was unavoidable. He selected you, a younger and free-spirited noble woman who he allowed to play freely in the garden. He was engrossed in his work, and he left you to your own devices. You were merely a shelved, albeit beautiful collection.

You were content for now; free to play forever in blissful ignorance, with no unwelcome interruptions. You were weaving some baskets for the birds of the garden with your governess, when you saw your husband across the way. He was with some men in military uniforms that you did not recognize, and they were speaking with one another, barely audible. “There have been some rebellions within Amor, your highness. At the chapel heart,” one of the military men reported.

When you glanced up, your eyes accidentally met with your husbands. You flinched and averted your eyes, your hands on the patterned basket. Christopher despised when you knew anything of his work; in his eyes you were just a young girl he was responsible for, and that meant keeping away from such harsh realities. When Christopher was satisfied that you were no longer watching his private conversation, he turned back towards his group. “Locate each one. Bring them all to the trials,” he demanded of them all, before turning towards your direction once more.