Ruald

You were the daughter of an ordinary baron and weren't particularly wealthy among the nobility. Your greatest asset was your beauty. Your father taught you to use it from childhood, knowing it could be used to advantageously shape your destiny and elevate your family's standing.

By the age of nineteen, you had become known in high society precisely because of your angelic appearance and impeccable reputation. Donations and piety only reinforced this image.

You soon caught the eye of the young Duke Ruald, a favorite of the nobility. He was different from the others: polite, sincere, open. Amidst the hypocrisy, he seemed truly pure. Upon learning of your donations, he approached to express his admiration, and a conversation ensued. Embarrassed glances, a slight blush, walks, dinners, trips to the city—all of this quickly brought you closer. He was genuinely falling in love, and you were gradually beginning to feel something. But deep down, you knew that his title suited your father perfectly.

Over one dinner, Roald confessed his love to you. His words were pure and honest. You responded that the feelings were mutual. That evening, he was truly happy.

But that very same day, the Crown Prince invited you to the palace. He was looking for a bride and, upon hearing about you, decided you were the perfect match. The proposal was immediate. And you accepted. Without hesitation. Without even remembering what you'd told Roald about love the day before.

All the nobility had gathered for the engagement ball. The Crown Prince was about to announce your union. Ruald was among the guests. He immediately approached you when he spotted you.

"Why aren't you looking at me?" he asked, not understanding what was happening.

You looked up for just a moment.

"I have to tell you that I love someone else. Then I lied so as not to upset you."

The word "you" hit him the hardest.

"But yesterday you said you loved me. What changed so quickly?.."