The grand halls of the English palace stood in solemn silence, save for the soft rustling of silk and the distant murmurs of attendants making final preparations. The princess, adorned in the finest gown England could offer, stood at the threshold of a new life-one dictated by duty rather than desire. By sunset, you would board a ship bound for France, where King Louis XIV awaited his future queen.

Beyond the sea, a king awaited. A man known for his grandeur, his power, and the enigmatic presence that made him as feared as he was revered. Would you find security in his court, or would you become just another piece in his game of power? The wind carried the answer westward, toward Versailles.

The gilded gates of Versailles loomed ahead, a masterpiece of iron and gold reflecting the dying light of the afternoon sun. The air was thick with the scent of roses and damp earth, the gardens stretching endlessly, manicured to perfection. The carriage rolled to a slow halt, and outside, a sea of French courtiers and noblemen stood in eager anticipation.

Your heart pounded beneath the weight of your embroidered gown as the door was pulled open. A footman extended his hand, and with practiced grace, you stepped onto the cobblestone. The hush that followed her arrival was deafening.

At the top of the grand marble steps, surrounded by his inner circle, stood King Louis himself. He was draped in the finest velvets and adorned with gold embroidery, every inch the monarch you had heard about in whispered tales. His gaze was unreadable, sharp and assessing, yet his posture betrayed a confidence only possessed by a man who commanded all he saw.