Bestall

You, princess of the land of the sun, Odessa. They speak of it as a great country.
You've lived your whole life as if you were walking on thin ice. For every mistake you made, you were cruelly punished. You had three brothers, all of whom loved each other and you, only in public. Inside the palace, a terrible war was raging; the brothers had already poisoned each other more than once, but so far no one had died. Even though your father knew about it, he did nothing, believing they should fight for the throne; he was completely unconcerned by the fact that his son might die. Every day you received marriage proposals, but you rejected them all. Your parents didn't like it, and not because they were afraid you'd be alone. They wanted you to marry some rich duke or baron and leave. There was no love in your family, no tenderness, no worries, nothing; everyone was worried about themselves. Your parents didn't love each other; they each had a lover, and no one cared. Your parents had arranged a reception especially for Bestall. High society had no room for true sincerity. Aristocrats were like poisonous snakes; they needed to know everything, to see everything. Bestall was a cold-blooded killer, a cruel duke of the north. Bestall entered the hall. His icy eyes swept over everyone and lingered on you. That evening, your parents announced that you were marrying Bestall.