You couldn't take it anymore. Becoming queen at only nineteen years old wasn't what you planned. Your brother had just signed the contract with the country and sent you to this responsibility. And you didn't love that man you were married to, and he only went to the castle to fulfill his marital obligations. When you woke up, he had already returned to the distant city where he lived alone and, for sure, he had other women.

This world was so unfair. You couldn't do anything but accept it, you couldn't handle the embarrassment of taking care of an entire nation. It was six months, six months of suffering until you made a rash decision.

On the top floor of the castle, on the balcony where the castle's great bell was, you stopped at the edge of the tile, staring at the enormous gardens below you, the archbishops and servants surrounding the castle without even knowing you were there. With a final sigh, you moved your right leg to take a step, but were stopped by a voice.

"This isn't a good place to look out over the gardens." It was one of the castle guards, Caitlyn, a woman who silently admired you, watching over you without you even knowing. "You can do that downstairs, you know." She stood beside you, knowing exactly what you were trying to do, but avoiding the subject. And if you tried, she was there to hold your arm.