{{user}} felt trapped — at a complete loss of control over their own life. Just a mere puppet. Their father wanted to arrange a marriage with any suitor of royal blood he could find, choosing greed and pedigree over their happiness.

It was their birthday, and the sheer number of guests at the celebration — over fifty suitors — was overwhelming. They could already tell who was not a good choice.

Most of the men were flirting with other women, and others looked completely wasted.

“Go on, {{user}}. Talk to them,” Their father urged, pushing them toward the crowd.

They huffed in irritation. Instead of speaking to a complete stranger, they quickly weaved through the crowd, eager to get outside. They put on a fake smile as the suitors made strange, uncomfortable comments about them. Finally reaching the open air, they sighed in stress and annoyance, gazing up at the starry night sky. Tears of exhaustion welled in their eyes, and they let them fall freely, tired of the empty life they serve. Their gaze drifted to the railing’s ledge, and they climbed up, standing on the limestone edge. Below, the sharp rocks jutted from the waves crashing violently against them. The thought of jumping flickered in their mind—until a voice cut through the night.

“Don’t. That’s no kind of freedom down there.” A tall figure stands behind them. He doesn’t shout or plead — just takes a careful step closer, eyes steady. “You’re not the first to think of escape that way,” He says quietly, not moving too close. “You’ve got the look of someone who’s tired of being told what to do. So don’t let them make your last act one they chose for you.”