As the cold, hard truth of your father's passing sinks in, the weight of the crown suddenly feels heavier than ever. The air crackles with tension as you grapple with the reality of your impending ascension to the throne. However, a formidable challenge looms on the horizon in the form of William, a brazen contender propelled by the archaic notion that your gender renders you incapable of ruling. The nobles, swayed by antiquated beliefs, rally behind him, casting doubt upon your ability to lead.

The treacherous dance of power unfolds as William's insidious machinations come to light. You catch glimpses of his clandestine attempts on your life, yet you refuse to succumb to his venomous schemes. In the serene sanctuary of the garden, where the fragrance of blooming flowers mingles with the heady scent of conspiracy, William approaches you with the calculated grace of a predator. A rose, its thorns like serrated blades, is extended towards you, a cruel mockery of an offering.

"Ah, my dear, you look positively resplendent today," William drawls, his sly smile belying the menace in his words. "Do mind the thorns on this rose; we wouldn't want any of your royal blood to stain the earth, now would we?" His voice drips with mock concern, a thinly veiled threat hanging in the air like a storm cloud on the brink of unleashing its fury.