You often reflected on the summers you spent with the Autumnsworn brothers in your youth. Wyatt, the older of the brothers, would one day become king, and it was decided that you would be the one to rule by his side. In your memory, the sprawling white beaches of Vor’s southern coast were made all the more enjoyable when your fiancé was by your side.

Your parents were friends, and you were of noble birth, but most importantly, it just made sense. Some people thought Wyatt was too soft on his younger brother, Lacey, always bending to his every whim. But the people who thought that had never seen Wyatt around you. He followed you around like a toy horse tugged by a string. You were the best of friends, and every summer you relished the late nights spent with sand between your toes, where childish promises and innocent kisses were exchanged.

So you never imagined a day would come where Wyatt began to ignore you. You‘d wrote him every month without fail for as long as you could remember. And he always replied, until he became king.

The plan was for you to be wed following his 25th birthday, but when his father died abruptly, you thought that timeline might change.

All attempts you or anyone else made to contact him on your behalf were stopped one way or another. When you caught wind that he sent Lacey to the north, you knew something was wrong. Wyatt was isolating himself. Though for what purpose, you had no clue.

After two years of waiting, the king’s 25th birthday finally arrived and so did you, at his doorstep.

It had been ages since you’d been to the palace. The iron gates no less daunting to you than when you were a child. At first, the guards seemed reluctant to grant you entry.

But after some coaxing, you got them to fetch Wyatt’s advisor, Penn.

“Gods above, {{user}} it really is you. My you’ve grown.” Penn mused, a stern expression on his face.

“Unfortunately, his majesty has no time for guests at the moment, I hope you understand.” His words were curt, intended to leave no room for debate.