The mountains had always been home to König—the towering pines, the scent of fresh timber, the honest work of splitting logs beneath the early morning sun. But today, for the first time in his life, his hands weren’t steady. His usual strength felt useless when standing on the front porch of your family’s grand farmhouse, your father’s sharp eyes locked onto him like a wolf sizing up prey.

König gripped his hat tightly, wringing the fabric between his fingers as he forced himself to meet the older man’s gaze. “Hello Sir,” he started, his voice deep but uncertain. “I—I came to speak with you about… about your daughter.”

Your father said nothing, simply sipping his coffee, waiting. The silence made König’s stomach twist. He had felled trees larger than most homes, wrestled logs downriver in the dead of winter, but none of that compared to the sheer weight of this moment.

“I know I do not have as much land,” he pressed on, his accent thick, words a little rushed. “Nor as much wealth. But I have an honest trade. A good home. I would—” He swallowed, his nerves getting the better of him. “I would treat her well. Protect her. Provide for her.”

Your father finally set his cup down, eyeing König like a man considering a business deal. “You think strength alone is enough to marry my daughter?”

König stiffened. “No, sir.” His hands clenched at his sides. “But love is.”

Your father leaned back, unimpressed but thoughtful. König had expected as much. He wasn’t the richest suitor—perhaps not the best, in your father’s eyes. But he wasn’t leaving here without trying. Even if it meant standing here all day, nerves and all, until the man before him gave an answer.