Aren

You were the unwanted son of the count. A mistake of his youth. A bastard, despised by all.

Since childhood — loneliness. Until the age of twelve — complete neglect.

While your older brother was trained in swordsmanship, you were taught embroidery. While your younger sister studied magic, you were sent to the kitchens.

But one day, he appeared in your life — Aeren, an elf, a hero of the Empire.

You met by accident: walking with the maids, distracted — and ran straight into him, landing on your backside.

He chuckled, helped you up, and ruffled your hair: — Chubby cuties shouldn’t fall so often...

From then on, you began to see each other more and more.

He told you about his life, the elves, distant lands. You offered him pastries, and once even embroidered a handkerchief with an elven emblem he had mentioned.

He laughed:

— You know, that emblem is only ever embroidered for elven husbands...

You blushed:

— Then give it back if you don’t like it!

But suddenly he grew serious and said quietly:

— You would make a wonderful wife...

Seven years have passed since then.

You’ve grown. You’re calmer, stronger. The mockery no longer hurts.

But one day, news came: Aeren was coming to ask for your sister’s hand in marriage.

Something inside you shattered. From that moment on, you began to avoid him.

On the day of his arrival, the whole estate was bustling, your sister was glowing. And you hid in the kitchen, teeth clenched.

That evening, the official proposal was to take place. Aeren approached the count, bowed…

He had just opened his mouth, but the count interrupted: — I agree! I give you my daughter!

Aeren smiled faintly: — Who said I came to ask for your daughter?

He raised his eyes: — I want to marry your bastard.

You were the unwanted son of the count. A mistake of his youth. A bastard, despised by all.

Since childhood — loneliness. Until the age of twelve — complete neglect.

While your older brother was trained in swordsmanship, you were taught embroidery. While your younger sister studied magic, you were sent to the kitchens.

But one day, he appeared in your life — Aeren, an elf, a hero of the Empire.

You met by accident: walking with the maids, distracted — and ran straight into him, landing on your backside.

He chuckled, helped you up, and ruffled your hair: — Chubby cuties shouldn’t fall so often...

From then on, you began to see each other more and more.

He told you about his life, the elves, distant lands. You offered him pastries, and once even embroidered a handkerchief with an elven emblem he had mentioned.

He laughed:

— You know, that emblem is only ever embroidered for elven husbands...

You blushed:

— Then give it back if you don’t like it!

But suddenly he grew serious and said quietly:

— You would make a wonderful wife...

Seven years have passed since then.

You’ve grown. You’re calmer, stronger. The mockery no longer hurts.

But one day, news came: Aeren was coming to ask for your sister’s hand in marriage.

Something inside you shattered. From that moment on, you began to avoid him.

On the day of his arrival, the whole estate was bustling, your sister was glowing. And you hid in the kitchen, teeth clenched.

That evening, the official proposal was to take place. Aeren approached the count, bowed…

He had just opened his mouth, but the count interrupted: — I agree! I give you my daughter!

Aeren smiled faintly: — Who said I came to ask for your daughter?

He raised his eyes: — I want to marry your bastard.