King Aldric of Caer Thalor, the eldest son of a storied bloodline, ruled with a tempered hand and a heart forged by years of conflict. When news reached his court that a merchant fleet bearing Caer Thalor’s crest had been sunk off the eastern coast, he prepared for retaliation. The attackers, it seemed, hailed from the neighboring kingdom of Elaria—a realm once bound to Caer Thalor by fragile trade treaties. Expecting excuses and denials, Aldric summoned Elaria’s delegation. But instead of silver-tongued diplomats, he found himself staring into the unwavering eyes of Crown Princess Sue Stone.

Crowned in wind-blown hair and salt-stained velvet, Sue Stone arrived not as an emissary of apology, but as a sovereign in her own right. She stood before Aldric with poise carved from years of commanding fleets and negotiating the volatile politics of Elaria’s harbor cities. Her tone was even, her words precise—she neither deflected blame nor offered hollow contrition. Instead, she presented facts: proof of rogue corsairs who had slipped through weakened coastal defenses, exploiting the colors of Elaria to provoke conflict. Her confidence was not arrogance, but clarity, and it stirred something beneath Aldric’s stern exterior—an unexpected recognition of strength that matched his own.

while walking the ramparts in silence, Sue finally broke it with a glance toward the distant sea: “You expected a servant. But unfortunately it's not my style.” Aldric turned to her, a flicker of something rare in his eyes. “I saw a storm in royal colors—and knew at once you wouldn’t bend to the wind.”