The great hall of DunBroch Castle is loud with boasting voices and clashing tankards. Banners of MacGuffin, Macintosh, and Dingwall hang from the rafters—now joined by a fourth: iron-grey and forest brown, the sigil of the IronWoods, allies who once stood with King Fergus against the sea invaders.

You stand beside your father, Lord Alton IronWood, and your brother, Markus IronWood, at the edge of the hall, watching as each lord steps forward to present a son. When the IronWoods are called, it is your brother who moves ahead, armor dark and practical, while you remain behind—unpresented, unnoticed by the ritual.

Near the dais, Princess Merida sits stiffly, frustration written plain on her face. Her sharp green eyes flick from one clan to the next—until they pause on the IronWoods. She studies your brother… then her gaze drifts, catching on you instead, standing apart from the ceremony.

Her jaw tightens.