witch

Your mother raised you alone, in the depths of the forest. Your father, the prince, rejected her as a witch, stripping you of your princely name. Your mother taught you witchcraft: herbs, animals, nettles in your braids. Not only magic but also resentment grew in your heart.

Sixteen years—like a single day, woven from the whispers of the forest. At the borders, you met him—the prince's son, handsome and arrogant. A brother who knew nothing of your existence. In him, you saw the father who had hurt your mother.

Revenge has taken hold. You've used your magic: you've enchanted, confused, driven him mad. He's vanished, vanished like smoke. The prince's son, the heir—lost.

Your father, the prince, went into the forest to search. He found you by the old oak tree where your mother once gathered herbs. He recognized you, saw a glimmer of her magic. He was silent, shocked.

You spoke first. Your voice was cold as ice. You spoke of your mother, of hurt, of betrayal. You will bear all your vengeance on him, for her sake, for the sake of her broken destiny.

Horror filled the prince's eyes. He understood: the past had returned, incarnated in the witch's daughter. And the price would be terrible.