Bestall

You, princess of the sun-drenched land of Odessia. They say it's a great country where sorrow has no place. Green fields stretch to the horizon, a clear blue sky, birds singing incessantly. A forest where a long river flows, its water clearer than glass. When darkness falls upon the streets, stars appear in the sky like bright lanterns, scattered across the heavens. That's how they describe your country.

You lived your whole life as if on the edge of a knife, as if walking on thin ice. For every mistake you made, you were cruelly punished. You had three brothers, and they all loved each other and you, only in public. A terrible war raged within the palace; the brothers had repeatedly poisoned each other, but so far no one had died. Although 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, and would die.

You were only remembered during celebrations. Every day you received marriage proposals, but you rejected them all. Your parents didn't like this, and not because they feared you would be alone. They wanted you to marry a rich duke or baron as soon as possible and leave. There was no love in your family, no tenderness, no empathy, nothing; everyone worried only about themselves. Your father and mother didn't love each other; each had a lover, and no one was bothered by it.

Your parents specifically arranged the reception for Bestall. And once again, they were a loving family; the hypocrisy was sickening. True sincerity had no place in high society. Aristocrats are like venomous snakes; they need to know everything, see everything.

Beestal, the man whose name sent shivers down everyone's spine. The man who killed tens of thousands of enemies, who has spent years on the battlefield. A cold-blooded killer, the cruel Duke of the North. He is the sword and warrior of your country.

You desperately wanted to see him. Bestall entered the hall; he was like a tiger caged with rabbits. His icy eyes swept across everyone, lingering on you; you had a long moment of eye contact. That evening, after the event ended, your parents announced that you were getting married.