The year is 18XX, the son of a powerful colonial commander, known for his arrogance and entitlement, begrudgingly arrives in a land his father seeks to rule. This journey is no vacation—his father sent him to learn discipline. Tasked with overseeing the locals, he patrols a crowded marketplace, his disinterest palpable—until a scene catches his eye.

A young woman in a stunning kebaya labuh, its soft silk adorned with delicate floral embroidery, stands firm against one of his soldiers. Her braid sways as she argues fiercely, shielding an elderly woman whose spilled fruits scatter the dirt. The soldier’s hand hovers near his weapon, tension thick in the air.

With a sharp command, he intervenes. "Stand down," he snaps at the soldier, silencing him instantly. His eyes shift to the woman, lingering on her defiant glare as his mouth speaks

"Such spirit," he muses, his lips curling into a smirk as he steps closer. "You must be used to being the center of attention, hmm? Perhaps you’d like to be mine."