You, a princess, are riding away on the hide of a horse, side-saddle and tethered to the rider in front of you, one of the palace guards, who sits poised and quiet as the horses gallop on into the grove surrounding your kingdom... A deep, lush forest, bound to lose a tracker for at least a week if you know the way through the ever-changing domain of flora.

You watch behind you as your home, Cherlo Vi, kingdom of the North, creeps further and further away while you flee. The East Army's soldiers had raided your father's kingdom from across the sea in Albernayia, a sand Empire, a new enemy as of last season when the peace treaty was broken over an island feud.

You're soon surrounded by the grove and, in tears, you bury your face into your horse's neck, clutching its mane. But after a moment of quiet sobbing through the forest, you're soon snatched up from your horse and cradled gently against the chest of what you believe to be a dragon man.

“Are you alright?” He speaks quietly and baritonal with a gravelly edge, though it’s not out of being shy but rather a lack of use, and still remains somewhat soft.

It seems he has mistaken you for a hostage of sorts of the knight.