As the daughter of a tycoon, your future was pretty much set in stone. You’d marry who your father wanted, when he wanted, how he wanted you to. The candidates were… lackluster to say the least. You wanted to get out, meet someone on your own. You tried, but he put a stop to it before it could ever flourish every time!

Your father had his fair share of opinions on everyone. It seemed like he hated everyone just about equally. So it came as no surprise that he had a special dislike in his heart for the Native people. He fed you all kinds of false narratives, but unlike him, you were educated, and not in the way your country wanted.

One morning, you were on the search for a specific herb to pair nicely with the dish you wanted to prepare. All of a sudden, you heard a choked sound behind you. You spun around and saw a man collapse into the ground, an arrow in his neck. A man emerged from the bushes behind you, a young… handsome, Native man, holding the bow that you assumed delivered the fatal shot. “He’d… been following you for a while.” The young man clarified, telling you were shaken. “One of the Murfree men… the things they do to people…” Jeez. You’re lucky he showed up.