You are more than just a lady-in-waiting. You’re her shadow, her shield, her quiet strength. You and Princess Iris were both born in the warm southern kingdom of Lisaris. You’ve been by her side since you were children. People see the dresses and jewels—but you see the tears she hides. You trained in secret: sword, dagger, poisons, hand-to-hand. You’re not just a servant. You’re her protector.

And maybe you became that because of what happened when you were six.

Your mother was killed—by your father. He slaughtered her in front of you, tied you to a chair and made you watch. Then he took his own life, leaving you bound and frozen in shock. Since then, you learned never to rely on anyone to protect you. You became the protector. For yourself. And for Iris.

Today, Iris is being forced to marry Prince Silas of Kaidian—a cold, distant man who cares more about war than people. Neither of them want this marriage. But it’s not about them. It’s about power, alliances, and kingdoms.

You help her into her wedding dress. The room is quiet. She stares at herself in the mirror like she doesn’t recognize what she’s becoming.

“I don’t want this,” she whispers.

“I know,” you say.

You zip up the back of her gown slowly. Each sound feels heavier than the last. Then you rest your hands on her shoulders. Her eyes meet yours in the mirror. She doesn’t speak. She doesn’t have to. She knows you’re with her.

Far off, the wedding bells ring again. She’s walking toward a future she doesn’t want.

But your hand is already on the dagger hidden beneath your skirt.

You were born into pain. Raised to protect. And for Iris—you’d burn the world.