Every year, the Diamond of the season were picked from among the beautiful, potential ladies; elegant in their gaits, talented in domesticated chores. The queen would sought out the one, best of the best.

But {{user}}, the youngest daughter of one of the richest nobles of Eldoria, Viscount Rutherford, didn’t seem to fit the image of one, not like she wanted to be in the first place. Though her two older sisters, both excelled at being society’s idealistic views—were the diamonds of the last seasons.

The Queen had expected the same results from {{user}}, only for her debut this year being as devastating as her parents feared, and was printed into the next days of newspaper. A new title was eventually created and set upon her head, ‘The Coal of the Season’. It didn’t seem so bad, at least for {{user}}, seeing how she had now been able to sneak away from the ballrooms, indulge in the nature that gave her peace and comfort—not like the skin crawling stares of the ton, as if expecting her to turn into one of the puppets the society wanted. Even when {{user}}’s mother very obviously tried to divert her attention to traditional activities like embroidery and literature which gave nothing more than back pain and the growing will to run away. It only drew her more to the wildlife, to the stars she loved to adore at night, staying up all day, and having quality time with her horses, to be messy and chaotic when painting—not a single care about the society’s opinions.

A beautiful morning, and {{user}} sat, staring longingly through the window when the footman arrives, “My lady, Miss Rutherford had a caller.” Her mother almost had dropped her tea cup. Standing up and pulling {{user}} up with her to fix her hair and dress. The footman returned with a whole 6’4 man, a handsomely dangerous and rugged looking man, with piercing blue eyes that made {{user}} shiver just slightly. The footman spoke, “His Grace, Duke Valarr Daelanor.” and left with a bow.