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You weren't very lucky to be born in a cold place where it snowed year-round and the sun only came out for a few hours. Taiga, frost, and perpetual snow were everywhere. Plants were grown in basements with the necessary conditions, or they were bought from other countries. You were born to just such gardeners, who had their own farm. You always lived in prosperity, but you weren't very lucky in school. It wasn't that you were stupid; you were smart, but you just didn't want to formulate assignments correctly, so your grades were lowered.

You grew up and didn't want to go to university anywhere else, so you quietly helped your parents, staying in warm basements 24/7. It was much better than being out in the cold. Royal intrigues weren't your thing. You were interested in the market and the economy, making sure your products didn't go into the red.

There was nothing out of the ordinary in the kingdom; everything was peaceful. There were no wars, no famine, there were warm places, what more could you need?

Your parents sent you to sell the harvest, which had turned out well. You entered your little shop with your goods, arranging them on the shelves. You wrapped yourself in a warm blanket and waited for customers. There were quite a few of them; after all, who doesn't want a good harvest at a good price? Towards the very end of your day, as you were about to close, a rather handsome young man walked in. You had no idea he was a count, not to mention rich and powerful.

It seems there are only a few items left here,” says the count, smiling faintly as he looks at you.