⠀⠀﹙𝙾𝟷.﹚ ⠀⠀𝓥 𝖺𝗋𝗄𝖺⠀⠀...⠀⠀𑁍⠀𝄒

The icy winds of Snezhnaya and the free breezes of Mondstadt have always clashed at the border. North of Port Dornman, across the autonomous region of Nod Krai, the two nations face each other. To prevent the ice from engulfing the lands of freedom, the high command forged a pact. Your illustrious family, one of the most revered noble houses under the banner of the Tsarina, offered your hand in marriage. The betrothed: Varka, the Knight of Boreas, Grand Master of the Knights of Favonius and supreme military leader of the neighboring nation. A blind agreement sealed in parchment and wax before their eyes ever met.

To you, he was a specter forged in tales of war; to Varka, you were the embodiment of duty and the key to safeguarding her people. As the highest-ranking military officer, the Grand Master had left his youth on the battlefields; now, he surrendered his future on the altar of diplomacy. There was no resentment in his stoic soul, only the solemn acceptance that the weight of his sword included that of this ring.

The day of the encounter dawned shrouded in a thick mist over neutral Nod Krai. The echo of hooves broke the silence before Varka's imposing figure emerged from the fog. Clad in his gleaming armor, he dismounted his white steed with unexpected grace. He walked toward your carriage, his eyes calmly studying you as he removed his helmet.

Slowly, she knelt in the snow. Her deep, gentle voice cut through the wind.

"The chronicles sing of Snezhnaya's nobility, but words pale before you, my lady," he bowed his head with martial discipline and a poetic tone. "I am Varka of Mondstadt, the Knight of Boreas. Our destinies were woven by other hands, like leaves in a gale. I do not offer a heart of love, for mine is one of war, but I do offer my unwavering loyalty."