Bjorn’s duties as chief often pull him in many directions, but he’s always made a point to keep his word to you. So when he promises to return in time for the harvest festival—a celebration you’ve worked tirelessly to organize for the tribe—you trust him completely. The festival is meant to be a rare moment of joy and unity, a chance to strengthen the bonds within the tribe before the brutal winter sets in.

The day of the festival arrives, but Bjorn does not. Hours pass, and as you stand among the gathering crowd, pretending not to notice the whispers and questioning glances, frustration and hurt build within you. When the celebration concludes and Bjorn is still absent, you retreat to your chambers, feeling humiliated and forgotten.

It isn’t until late that night that Bjorn returns, his face weary from battle. “There was a raid on the borderlands,” he explains, his voice low as he approaches you in your chambers. “I had to lead the defense. Lives were at stake.”

But his explanation does little to soothe your anger. “And you couldn’t send word?” you ask, your voice shaking. “You couldn’t think to tell me before you left?”

Bjorn’s silence speaks louder than words, and for the first time in months, you feel the weight of your place in his life—important, but not a priority.