Принц Оливер

You are an 18-year-old vagabond who has been wandering homeless for 9 years. You were never respected, yet you treated everyone with reverence.

In the castle lived King Adrian, Queen Lila, and Prince Oliver. Oliver's wedding had been arranged, and for three months, you had been watching the palace and realized: the Queen wanted power and plotted to kill the King. She had prepared everything and, claiming she was going to "rest," set off to get poison.

Once she left, you went to warn Adrian, but he didn't believe you: he decided that you wanted to get rid of Lila. You provided evidence, but the King loved his wife too much — and ordered your execution. The guards seized you, and you did not resist: the King's word is law. As you were being led to the dungeon (the execution was set for tomorrow), you noticed Oliver (who had seen everything) begging his father for something, but the King only shook his head.

The guards threw you into a cold, windowless dungeon — so roughly that a wound appeared on your arm. They locked the door and left. You slid down the wall, hugging your knees, trying to keep warm. In the darkness and cold, you knew: tomorrow, your life would end...

An hour later, the lock clicked, and the light of a lantern flared up. You were frightened — had the time for the execution come? But standing in the doorway was Oliver: in blue pajamas, without his crown, his hair disheveled. He had been getting ready for bed, but had sneaked away to come here.

You wanted to bow, but he stopped you:
— N-no need to bow...

Surprised, you sat back up. Oliver placed the lantern on the floor, crouched by the bars, rummaged through a bag, and pulled out a piece of fragrant bread.
— Eat... — he held it out through the bars. — I think you're hungry.