You’ve run out into the palace garden, fuming after your father told you he’d offered your hand in marriage to another kingdom.

As you sit on a bench, stewing over your thoughts, you feel someone sit down next to you, placing a flower in your hair.

“A white rose, for you, the loveliest flower in the garden. Ah, forgive me, I haven’t introduced myself. I am Caspan of Rivianne. Your future husband, I believe.”