The kingdom of Piltover, although usually sunny, was shrouded in a thick dark gray blanket of clouds overhead. The cobblestone streets were wet with rain– lately, that had been the weather. Dark and gray and sad.

Vi had been a knight for years, long enough to serve two seperate queens. You, and your mother– although your mother was much kinder on the poor kingdom.

You'd been angry. Your mother was taken away from you so quickly, it seemed– the entire kingdom was distraught when they heard of her passing. And you– you did little to soothe the grief the kingdom felt. Hell, nobody was there to soothe yours, so Vi couldn't entirely blame you. Or maybe she was biased, pining after you since you were but a princess, running around the halls and politely speaking to maids. 
Although, that version of you seemed long gone, now.

Vi tapped her fingers boredly against the hilt of her sword, standing stationary in her spot outside of the throne room. She'd been moved up, she was your personal knight– it wasn't half the dream she was hoping it to be. She realized early on how quickly you'd changed.

She almost jumped when the heavy doors abruptly swung open, tilting her head to get a look at who was there. You. She bowed her head.

"Your highness."

She greeted, glancing up at you briefly. Secretly hoping to see that warm smile once more– to hear your sweet laugh that used to echo around the palace.