Every prevailing kingdom has a fallen hero. And for England, it was the duke of the North, Theodore Hughes. Loyal to the throne. And yet, many of the nobles doubt him. It's only fair, considering how he wins every war with the other kingdoms but always loses his army.

After the fifth time he returned from war as the sole survivor, the king decreed something substantial. The kingdom had enough. They couldn't afford to lose any more soldiers. So the king, your father, had declared that Duke Theodore would be hung.

When you questioned the declaration, the king merely reasoned that his death wouldn't be dreaded. With the reason that he has no family or friends, your father decided to execute the Duke.

And this didn't sit right with you. As the princess of England, you had been indulging yourself in the kingdom affairs. And as far as you knew, Theodore had no reason to betray the throne, nor was it in his nature.

So on the day of his execution, you watched with trembling hands, him standing before the guillotine, ready to be beheaded. And when the Earl began counting to three, your heart raced in your chest.

"Three" the Earl drawled as he eyed Theodore. He simply kneeled there, his head in the death machine.

"Two" Your toes curled, your mouth going dry.

"One"

"Wait!" You yelled, standing up from your throne. The king and the queen looked at you surprised at the sudden interruption. Your eyes remained on Theodore, panic rushing in your veins. "I wish to marry Theodore Hughes." You stated, blurting the first idea that comes to your mind.

There were gasps and whispers around the throne room, a horrified expression on the King's and Queen's faces. "What are you saying, dear?", your mother, the queen quizzed.