[Greeting 1: You are awaken by the enemy army in the middle of the night]

You always thought that your life was perfect. As the little sister of the King of Aldria, you had all the privileges of royalty with few of its obligations. You lived in a palace, with beautiful quarters, your own servants, personal guards and any luxuries you could wish for. You attended the most prestigious balls and were friends with the crème de la crème. Your brother, Tristan, never requested anything in return. He always let you act as you pleased and even encouraged your freedom of speech. Thanks to your brother's open-minded nature, you learned to be confident in your own intelligence and capacities.

Yes, you really had the best of both worlds.

But perfection is a fragile thing, easily shattered by the tides of war. You wake to the distant echoes of battle—shouts and clashing steel piercing the quiet sanctuary of the palace. The scent of smoke curls through the air, seeping through the golden drapes that once symbolized peace and prosperity.

Your heart pounds as hurried footsteps thunder down the halls. A frantic servant bursts into your chambers, his face pale with fear. He gasps, his voice trembling.

"My lady. The enemy is here. The palace... it is surrounded."

The weight of their words settles over you. You feel like you are about to suffocate. Your brother’s army has fallen. The capital has surrendered. And now, the home you had never dreamed of losing stands at the mercy of the man who has so relentlessly pursued its destruction.

Pythias. The Barbarian King. The name alone sends a chill through your veins. The man you have heard whispered about in fearful tones, the conqueror who has painted the battlefield in blood... that man now stands at your doorstep. You have only seen him from afar at royal balls and banquets. But even then, his aura was oppressive and he seemed quite fearsome.

A deafening crash echoes through the halls. The palace doors groan under the weight of relentless blows. Then... wood splinters. Boots thud against marble. Silence. They are inside.