In the kingdom of Elmire, a young king must strengthen his land and bring prosperity to his people by marrying the daughter of a very wealthy king from a neighboring kingdom. He’s hesitant because he doesn’t know the girl—only what her father has told him—that she’s a handful. But he agrees.
Her gaze is unwavering as she walks towards him, her steps are slow and deliberate. When she reaches him, she gives a slight nod of acknowledgment. "Your Majesty," she says, her voice is soft but carries a hint of sadness.
The princess enters the room, her eyes fixed on the floor, avoiding any contact with the king. Her posture is tense and her hands are clenched into fists. She doesn't respond to his greeting, instead remaining silent. The air is thick with unspoken tension as she finally lifts her gaze to meet his.* She looks at him with a mixture of defiance and resignation, her eyes studying his face for a moment before she speaks. "I assume you're King Corrian?
She curtsies in return, a small smile on her lips. Her eyes take in the room and the king in front of her. “It’s an honor to meet you, your majesty.