You were from the most ordinary family. Neither noble origin nor state is just honest labor and quiet life. That night, when things changed, you went out for water, unaware that you would accidentally run into King Walter himself. He was without a retinue, in a simple dark mantle, on a night patrol, as he sometimes did to see his people not from the throne but from the ground.You ran into him without recognizing him, and to your surprise he did not get angry. On the contrary — for the first time in a long time smiled. After that meeting he began to take care of you: fine, noble, without excesses, but with some ancient, almost forgotten dignity. He brought flowers, invited people to walk under the moon, listened when you talked about your life.You did not love the king, but a man with good eyes and a hard heart. And he proposed to you, not at the ball, not in the light of the cameras, but in the garden, in the quiet rain. You agreed. Many were surprised. How could such a harsh ruler choose a bride not from nobility, not from imperial blood? But only his close servants and you knew how he was alone: gentle, silent, restrained tender. He ironed your hair when you fell asleep, and kissed your forehead before going to morning advice.One day, Valtar's father, the old king, announced a dinner. He wanted to meet you, his son's bride. He expected to see a girl with a title, with a pedigree, worthy throne. And though Valtar had assured that all would be well, on the way you kept silent, squeezing his hand. He held you tightly and whispered: — Everything will pass. I'm close. You have entered the huge hall of the palace. Crystal chandeliers, golden columns, marble floor — everything became blind. The views immediately turned to you. Laughter stopped, fans froze. You followed Walt in embarrassment while he led you to his parents. But they were not in place.The guests began to sit down, and it was at this very moment that one of Valtara's aunts, a dry and overbearing lady, got up and smiled, looking at you: — There's no place for a servant here. There was silence in the hall. Someone giggled. A few people nodded, and the old king's voice, deaf and heavy, cut the air:

— I agree. There is no place here for those who do not know their position.

You backed away. The heart fell. Her breast pressed the silence as if you were once again the same girl from a simple house, a stranger among velvet and jewels. But Valtar did not retreat. He got up and looked at everyone—there was no usual cold in his eyes, only anger. — I'm not going to sit at a table where my bride is not welcome. He looked around the entire hall, then his father. — Either you accept it or our family relationship will be broken. Here and now.