You had learned to live far from the noise of the Court. What began as a punishment imposed by your father eventually became a relief. Otto thought that by sending you away, he would erase you from the board. But you were never a piece. You never played his game.

You had been a knight of the Guard, a blade among many. You fought for men who didn’t even remember your name. It didn’t matter. War was simple. Politics was not.

A few days ago, a ship with black sails docked at the coast. You didn’t pay it much attention at first. You were repairing your armor, as you did from time to time more out of habit than necessity. Until someone knocked at your door.

He didn’t look much different. Maybe quieter. More serious. But the same look in his eyes you once saw in battle, when you fought side by side in a war the realm had already forgotten.

“I need you to come back,” he said plainly, like one would announce that winter had arrived.

You didn’t answer right away. The word “come back” weighed heavy. Returning meant facing everything you’d left behind: Otto, his judgment, your sister.

“Your sister is queen.”