Twine Template NEW 1

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<<if settings.notifications>><<notify 3s>>Prologue<</notify>><</if>>\ <div style="text-align:center;"> !!Year of the Silver Moon: 842 A.F. (After Founding) Your mother always told you, “Remember, flowers grow through the dirt.” The phrase echoed in your mind like a heartbeat. The first time she said it was when you were three years old. You were sleeping peacefully, swaddled in your blanket, when suddenly you felt as if the blanket was suffocating you, drowning out your cries. Were you scared? You think so. You cried loudly, tears streaming down your face. It was your first nightmare, the first of many. As she tried to comfort you, those words slipped from her lips. But a three-year-old could never truly understand their meaning. Yet, those words seemed to never leave you. You used them to comfort yourself, but it was never enough. Night after night, the nightmares returned, each one worse than the last. As you grew older, the line between fiction and reality blurred until it felt like you were living in a dream. Now, at fifteen, you find yourself in a different kind of darkness. The lovely sound of birds has vanished, leaving an eerie silence. You hesitate, unsure if you want to go further, but something pulls you in. You know it’s fate; you can’t run away—not yet. The forest swallows you whole as you walk deeper, your footsteps echoing in the night. With each step, you feel eyes watching you. You light your lantern, hoping to dispel the feeling of being watched. But the light is only a temporary fix. Ignoring the warnings, you venture on, unaware of the dangers waiting for you... After that night, you never saw that innocent child again. In that forest, a piece of yourself vanished, as if it had never existed. ---- <div class="choices"> <div class="choice"><<link "Character customization" "cc">><<statone+ -19>><</link>></div> </div> </div> \ \  \  \

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, ''consetetur sadipscing elitr'', sed diam nonumy eirmod tempor invidunt ut labore et dolore magna aliquyam erat, sed diam voluptua. At vero eos et accusam et justo duo dolores et ea rebum. Stet clita kasd gubergren, no sea takimata sanctus est Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consetetur sadipscing elitr, sed diam nonumy eirmod tempor invidunt ut labore et dolore magna aliquyam erat, sed diam voluptua. At vero eos et accusam et justo duo dolores et ea rebum. Stet clita kasd gubergren, no sea takimata sanctus est Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consetetur sadipscing elitr, sed diam nonumy eirmod tempor invidunt ut labore et dolore magna aliquyam erat, sed diam voluptua. At vero eos et accusam et justo duo dolores et ea rebum. Stet clita kasd gubergren, __no sea takimata sanctus est Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet.__ Duis autem vel //eum iriure dolor in hendrerit// in vulputate velit esse molestie consequat, vel illum dolore eu feugiat nulla facilisis at vero eros et accumsan et iusto odio dignissim qui blandit praesent luptatum zzril delenit augue duis dolore te feugait nulla facilisi. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit, sed diam nonummy nibh euismod tincidunt ut laoreet dolore magna aliquam erat volutpat. >Ut wisi enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exerci tation ullamcorper suscipit lobortis nisl ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis autem vel eum iriure dolor in hendrerit in vulputate velit esse molestie consequat, vel illum dolore eu feugiat nulla facilisis at vero eros et accumsan et iusto odio dignissim qui blandit praesent luptatum zzril delenit augue duis dolore te feugait nulla facilisi. Nam liber tempor cum soluta nobis eleifend option congue nihil imperdiet doming id quod mazim placerat facer possim assum. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit, sed diam nonummy nibh euismod tincidunt ut laoreet dolore magna aliquam erat volutpat. Ut wisi enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exerci tation ullamcorper suscipit lobortis nisl ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. <span class="next"><<button "Next" "3">><</button>></span>\

<div style="text-align:center;"><b>Choose your preferred pronouns.</b> Enter your answers or choose from one of the presets. <strong>Presets:</strong> <<link "he/him">> <<set $they = "he">> <<set $them = "him">> <<set $their = "his">> <<set $theirs = "his">> <<set $themself = "himself">> <<set $plural = false>> <<replace #autofill>>\ Subjective: <<textbox "$they" `$they`>> Objective: <<textbox "$them" `$them`>> Determiner: <<textbox "$their" `$their`>> Possessive: <<textbox "$theirs" `$theirs`>> Reflexive: <<textbox "$themself" `$themself`>> Is this a plural pronoun? <<listbox "$plural">> <<option "No" false selected>> <<option "Yes" true>><</listbox>>\ <</replace>><</link>> / <<link "she/her">> <<set $they = "she">> <<set $them = "her">> <<set $their = "her">> <<set $theirs = "hers">> <<set $themself = "herself">> <<set $plural = false>> <<replace #autofill>>\ Subjective: <<textbox "$they" `$they`>> Objective: <<textbox "$them" `$them`>> Determiner: <<textbox "$their" `$their`>> Possessive: <<textbox "$theirs" `$theirs`>> Reflexive: <<textbox "$themself" `$themself`>> Is this a plural pronoun? <<listbox "$plural">> <<option "No" false selected>> <<option "Yes" true>><</listbox>>\ <</replace>><</link>> / <<link "it/its">> <<set $they = "it">> <<set $them = "it">> <<set $their = "its">> <<set $theirs = "its">> <<set $themself = "itself">> <<set $plural = false>> <<replace #autofill>>\ Subjective: <<textbox "$they" `$they`>> Objective: <<textbox "$them" `$them`>> Determiner: <<textbox "$their" `$their`>> Possessive: <<textbox "$theirs" `$theirs`>> Reflexive: <<textbox "$themself" `$themself`>> Is this a plural pronoun? <<listbox "$plural">> <<option "No" false selected>> <<option "Yes" true>><</listbox>>\ <</replace>><</link>> / <<link "they/them">> <<set $they = "they">> <<set $them = "them">> <<set $their = "their">> <<set $theirs = "theirs">> <<set $themself = "themself">> <<set $plural = true>> <<replace #autofill>>\ Subjective: <<textbox "$they" `$they`>> Objective: <<textbox "$them" `$them`>> Determiner: <<textbox "$their" `$their`>> Possessive: <<textbox "$theirs" `$theirs`>> Reflexive: <<textbox "$themself" `$themself`>> Is this a plural pronoun? <<listbox "$plural">> <<option "No" false>> <<option "Yes" true selected>><</listbox>>\ <</replace>><</link>> <div class="pronouns"><span id="autofill">\ Subjective: <<textbox "$they" "they">> Objective: <<textbox "$them" "them">> Determiner: <<textbox "$their" "their">> Possessive: <<textbox "$theirs" "theirs">> Reflexive: <<textbox "$themself" "themself">> Is this a plural pronoun? <<listbox "$plural" autoselect>> <<option "No" false>> <<option "Yes" true>><</listbox>>\ </span></div></div> ---- <div class="choices"> <div class="choice">[[scroll passage and button|2]]</div> <div class="choice">[[styles|3]]</div> <div class="nochoice">unavailable</div> </div>

Page showing different formatting and styles for this theme. ---- <<set $hello = "hello">>\ !Heading 01 !!Heading 02 !!!Heading 03 * list item 01 * list item 02 * list item 03 # list item 01 # list item 02 # list item 03 //Cursive Text,// ''bold text'', __underlined text__, and ==crossed out text==. > Block of indented text: Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consetetur sadipscing elitr, sed diam nonumy eirmod tempor invidunt ut labore et dolore magna aliquyam erat, sed diam voluptua. At vero eos et accusam et justo duo dolores et ea rebum. Stet clita kasd gubergren, no sea takimata sanctus est Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consetetur sadipscing elitr, sed diam nonumy eirmod tempor invidunt ut labore et dolore magna aliquyam erat, sed diam voluptua. >> Block of doubly indented text: Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consetetur sadipscing elitr, sed diam nonumy eirmod tempor invidunt ut labore et dolore magna aliquyam erat, sed diam voluptua. At vero eos et accusam et justo duo dolores et ea rebum. Stet clita kasd gubergren, no sea takimata sanctus est Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consetetur sadipscing elitr, sed diam nonumy eirmod tempor invidunt ut labore et dolore magna aliquyam erat, sed diam voluptua. <<cycle "$cycling" autoselect>> <<option "Cycling link 1">> <<option "Cycling link 2">> <<option "Cycling link 3">> <</cycle>> <<textbox "$textbox" "Type here...">><<button "Submit">><</button>> <<textbox '$var' ''>><<button "Submit">><</button>> <<nobr>> <<done>> <<run $('#textbox-var').attr('placeholder', 'Your text here!')>> <</done>> <</nobr>> ---- <span class="next"><<button "Next" "4">><</button>></span>

<<set $hello = "hello">> <<print $hello.toUpperFirst()>> <<= $hello.toUpperFirst()>> $textbox $var !!! Checkbox: <<checkbox "$checkboxVar1" false true autocheck>> Checkbox option 1 <<checkbox "$checkboxVar2" false true autocheck>> Checkbox option 2 <<checkbox "$checkboxVar3" false true autocheck>> Checkbox option 3 !!! Cycle: <<cycle "$cycleVar" autoselect>> <<option "Option 1">> <<option "Option 2">> <<option "Option 3">> <<option "Option 4">> <<option "Option 5">> <</cycle>> !!! Listbox: <<listbox "$listboxVar" autoselect>> <<option "Option 1">> <<option "Option 2">> <<option "Option 3">> <<option "Option 4">> <<option "Option 5">> <</listbox>> !!! Radiobutton: <<radiobutton "$radiobuttonVar" "option 1" autocheck>> Option 1 <<radiobutton "$radiobuttonVar" "option 2" autocheck>> Option 2 <<radiobutton "$radiobuttonVar" "option 3" autocheck>> Option 3 !!! Textarea: <<textarea "$textareaVar" "Type text here..">> !!! Textbox: <<textbox "$textboxVar" "Type answer here">> !!! Live Update: <<set $they to "They">><<set $plural to true>>\ * <<link "She/Her">><<set $they to "She">><<set $plural to false>><<update>><</link>> * <<link "He/Him">><<set $they to "He">><<set $plural to false>><<update>><</link>> * <<link "They/Them">><<set $they to "They">><<set $plural to true>><<update>><</link>> <<liveblock>> $they <<are>> pretty hilarious and use<<s>> one (1) braincell. <</liveblock>> <span class="next"><<button "Next" "5">><</button>></span>

When publishing your game to itch.io, make sure to select "Click to launch in fullscreen" in the Embed options section, and click the checkbox to enable "Mobile friendly" under the Frame options. Select "Portrait" for the orientation. <u>Helpful resources:</u> [[Beginner’s Guide to Twine 2.1|http://www.adamhammond.com/twineguide]] [[idrellegames.tumblr.com|https://idrellegames.tumblr.com/post/664858800855089152/coding-in-twine-other-resources]] [[r/twinegames|https://www.reddit.com/r/twinegames]] [[Sugarcube 2 Documentation|https://www.motoslave.net/sugarcube/2/docs]] [[Sugarcube Template by Nyehilism|https://nyehilism.itch.io/twine-template]] [[The Twine Grimoires|https://gcbaccaris.itch.io]] [[Twine Cookbook|https://twinery.org/cookbook]] [[Quick Twine Tutorial|https://catn.decontextualize.com/twine]] [[Saving the Game on iOS and iPadOS|https://evertidings.tumblr.com/post/686771891065831424/for-the-peeps-who-got-difficulties-with-saving]] <u>Macros/Sample code:</u> [[Chapel's Custom Macros|https://github.com/ChapelR/custom-macros-for-sugarcube-2]] [[Cycy's Custom Macros|https://github.com/cyrusfirheir/cycy-wrote-custom-macros]] [[HIEv's Sample Code|https://qjzhvmqlzvoo5lqnrvuhmg-on.drv.tw/UInv/Sample_Code.html#Main%20Menu]]

<div class="header"></div> <div class="header-text"> <div id="header-text" data-passage="header-text"></div> </div> <div class="menu"> <div id="menu" data-passage="menu"></div> </div> <div id="passages">  </div>  <div class="footer"></div></div>

/* set your story's variables here */ <<set $gametitle to "Game Title">> <<set $author to "Author">> <<set $plural to false>> <<set $they to "">> <<set $them to "">> <<set $their to "">> <<set $theirs to "">> <<set $themself to "">> /* this automatically changes the capitalization of your pronoun variables; in case reader input got messed up (for example: a reader typed "tHeY" instead of "they"). This also makes it easier for you to capitalize (or ... NOT capitalize) pronouns at will: using $they will result in "they", using $They in "They". The same system can be used to make sure the MC's name is always capitalized (<<set $name to $name.toUpperFirst()>>) */ <<set $they to $they.toLowerCase(), $They to $they.toUpperFirst()>> <<set $them to $them.toLowerCase(), $Them to $them.toUpperFirst()>> <<set $their to $their.toLowerCase(), $Their to $their.toUpperFirst()>> <<set $theirs to $theirs.toLowerCase(), $Theirs to $theirs.toUpperFirst()>> <<set $themself to $themself.toLowerCase(), $Themself to $themself.toUpperFirst()>> <<set $statone to 69>> <<set $stattwo to 42>>

/* custom widgets go in here */ <<widget "are">><<switch $plural>><<case true>>are<<case false>>is<</switch>><</widget>> <<widget "were">><<switch $plural>><<case true>>were<<case false>>was<</switch>><</widget>> <<widget "s">><<switch $plural>><<case true>><<case false>>s<</switch>><</widget>> <<widget "es">><<switch $plural>><<case true>><<case false>>es<</switch>><</widget>> <<widget "re">><<switch $plural>><<case true>>re<<case false>>s<</switch>><</widget>> <<widget "ve">><<switch $plural>><<case true>>ve<<case false>>s<</switch>><</widget>> /* STAT BAR */ <<widget "fair_minus">><<fair_plus $args[0] -$args[1]>><</widget>> <<widget "opposed_stat">><<nobr>> <div class="statBar"> <div style="float:right"> $args[1] <<= 100-$args[2]>>% </div> <<= '<div class="statLeftBg" style="width:'+$args[2]+'%"> </div>'>> <div> $args[0] $args[2]%</div> </div> <</nobr>><</widget>> <<widget "percent_stat">><<nobr>> <div class="percentBar"> <<= '<div class="percentLeftBg" style="width:'+$args[0]+'%"> </div>'>> <div class="percentBarText">$args[1] $args[0]%</div> </div> <</nobr>><</widget>> /* STAT BAR END */ /* CLAMP STATS */ /* You CAN clamp your stats here, like this; you can ALSO clamp your stats as you give them out during the course of the game which allows for more control of when to limit a stat (for example: you don't want a friendship to go over 60% in chapter one; in that case it's better to clamp in the story, no here). For a general limit (meaning your stat doesn't go under 0% and over 100%) the Widgets passage works fine. */ <<widget statone>>\ <<set $statone to Math.clamp($statone + eval($args.full), 0, 100)>>\ <</widget>> <<widget stattwo>>\ <<set $stattwo to Math.clamp($stattwo + eval($args.full), 0, 100)>>\ <</widget>> /* CLAMP STATS END */

<span class="menu"><<nobr>> <<button "‹">><<run Engine.backward()>><</button>> <<button "›">><<run Engine.forward()>><</button>> <<button "Stats" "stat page">><</button>> <<button "Settings">><<script>>UI.settings()<</script>><</button>> <<button "Saves">><<script>>UI.saves()<</script>><</button>> <<button "Restart Game">><<script>>UI.restart()<</script>><</button>> <</nobr>></span>

<<nobr>> <span class="title"><b>FATE UNWRITTEN</b></span> <span class="Amelia"><small>by amelia</small></span><span class="mob-nav"><<link '<span class="fa-bars" aria-hidden="true"></span>'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Navigation"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("navigation").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></span> <</nobr>>

<center><<button "‹">><<run Engine.backward()>><</button>> <<button "›">><<run Engine.forward()>><</button>> <<button "Stats" "stat page">><</button>> <<button "Settings">> <<script>> UI.settings(); <</script>> <</button>> <<button "Saves">> <<script>> UI.saves(); <</script>> <</button>> <<button "Restart">> <<script>> UI.restart(); <</script>> <</button>> </center>

!stat page <div class="stats"> <<opposed_stat "Reality" "Dreams" $statone>> <div style="text-align:center"><h2>Prince Ivan</h2></div>\ <<percent_stat $stattwo "Stat Two">>\ <b>Description: Your husband</b> <b>Category:</b> He loves you, but you've been making it difficult for him. </div>\ <center><<button "Profile" "profile">><</button>> <<button "Return" $return>><</button>></center>

You are $firstname $lastname of $house <center><<button "Stat Page" "stat page">><</button>> <<button "Return" $return>><</button>></center>

[$stattwo to $stattwo + 10 , $statone to Math.clamp($statone + 40, 0, 100)]] </div class="choice"><<link "styles" "3">><<statone +40>><</link>></div> <div class="choice">[[custom pronouns]]</div> <div class="nochoice">unavailable</div> </div> <div class="choice">[[custom pronouns]]</div> <div class="nochoice">unavailable</div>/

<div style="text-align:center;"><b>Choose your preferred pronouns.</b> Enter your answers or choose from one of the presets. <strong>Presets:</strong> <<link "he/him">> <<set $they = "he">> <<set $them = "him">> <<set $their = "his">> <<set $theirs = "his">> <<set $themself = "himself">> <<set $plural = false>> <<replace #autofill>>\ Subjective: <<textbox "$they" `$they`>> Objective: <<textbox "$them" `$them`>> Determiner: <<textbox "$their" `$their`>> Possessive: <<textbox "$theirs" `$theirs`>> Reflexive: <<textbox "$themself" `$themself`>> Is this a plural pronoun? <<listbox "$plural">> <<option "No" false selected>> <<option "Yes" true>><</listbox>>\ <</replace>><</link>> / <<link "she/her">> <<set $they = "she">> <<set $them = "her">> <<set $their = "her">> <<set $theirs = "hers">> <<set $themself = "herself">> <<set $plural = false>> <<replace #autofill>>\ Subjective: <<textbox "$they" `$they`>> Objective: <<textbox "$them" `$them`>> Determiner: <<textbox "$their" `$their`>> Possessive: <<textbox "$theirs" `$theirs`>> Reflexive: <<textbox "$themself" `$themself`>> Is this a plural pronoun? <<listbox "$plural">> <<option "No" false selected>> <<option "Yes" true>><</listbox>>\ <</replace>><</link>> / <<link "it/its">> <<set $they = "it">> <<set $them = "it">> <<set $their = "its">> <<set $theirs = "its">> <<set $themself = "itself">> <<set $plural = false>> <<replace #autofill>>\ Subjective: <<textbox "$they" `$they`>> Objective: <<textbox "$them" `$them`>> Determiner: <<textbox "$their" `$their`>> Possessive: <<textbox "$theirs" `$theirs`>> Reflexive: <<textbox "$themself" `$themself`>> Is this a plural pronoun? <<listbox "$plural">> <<option "No" false selected>> <<option "Yes" true>><</listbox>>\ <</replace>><</link>> / <<link "they/them">> <<set $they = "they">> <<set $them = "them">> <<set $their = "their">> <<set $theirs = "theirs">> <<set $themself = "themself">> <<set $plural = true>> <<replace #autofill>>\ Subjective: <<textbox "$they" `$they`>> Objective: <<textbox "$them" `$them`>> Determiner: <<textbox "$their" `$their`>> Possessive: <<textbox "$theirs" `$theirs`>> Reflexive: <<textbox "$themself" `$themself`>> Is this a plural pronoun? <<listbox "$plural">> <<option "No" false>> <<option "Yes" true selected>><</listbox>>\ <</replace>><</link>> <div class="pronouns"><span id="autofill">\ Subjective: <<textbox "$they" "they">> Objective: <<textbox "$them" "them">> Determiner: <<textbox "$their" "their">> Possessive: <<textbox "$theirs" "theirs">> Reflexive: <<textbox "$themself" "themself">> Is this a plural pronoun? <<listbox "$plural" autoselect>> <<option "No" false>> <<option "Yes" true>><</listbox>>\ </span></div></div> <div style="text-align:center;"> First name (please capitalize): <<textbox "$firstname" "Type here...">><<button "Submit">><</button>> Last name (please capitalize): <<textbox "$lastname" "Type here...">><<button "Submit">><</button>> ---- <div class="choices"> <div class="choice">[[Next|cc2]]</div> </div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> Gender: <<cycle "$gender" autoselect>> <<option "woman">> <<option "man">> <<option "person">> <</cycle>> Royal title: <<cycle "$royaltitle1" autoselect>> <<option "Crown Princess">> <<option "Crown Prince">> <<option "Crown Regent">> <</cycle>> Future royal title: <<cycle "$royaltitle2" autoselect>> <<option "Queen">> <<option "King">> <<option "Monarch">> <</cycle>> Skin color: <<cycle "$skincolor" autoselect>> <<option "fair">> <<option "light">> <<option "medium">> <<option "olive">> <<option "tan">> <<option "brown">> <<option "deep">> <</cycle>> Eye color: <<cycle "$eyecolor" autoselect>> <<option "brown">> <<option "blue">> <<option "hazel">> <<option "green">> <<option "gray">> <<option "black">> <<option "amber">> <</cycle>> Hair color: <<cycle "$haircolor" autoselect>> <<option "black">> <<option "brown">> <<option "dark brown">> <<option "blonde">> <<option "ginger">> <<option "red">> <<option "white">> <<option "gray">> <</cycle>> Hair type: <<cycle "$hairtype" autoselect>> <<option "curly">> <<option "straight">> <<option "wavy">> <<option "coily">> <</cycle>> Hair length: <<cycle "$hairlength" autoselect>> <<option "shoulder length">> <<option "mid back length">> <<option "waist length">> <<option "chin length">> <<option "ear length">> <<option "buzzcut">> <</cycle>> </div> ---- <div class="choices"> <div class="choice">[[Wake up|chapter1]]</div> </div>

<<if settings.notifications>><<notify 3s>>Chapter One<</notify>><</if>>\ <div style="text-align:center;"> !!Year of the Golden Star: 852 A.F. (After Founding) The sun reached through the crack between the curtains. It was gentle, unlike the other days. Maybe it felt sympathy, but the sun cannot have feelings, right? The sun was still rising, and you sat up on your bed, looking at the glass doors connecting you to the outside world. You gradually rose from your bed, making your way to the door. A cascade of sunlight greeted you as you parted the curtains, allowing the room to bathe in its warm embrace. It was as if the room itself was awakening alongside you. Knock. Knock. Knock. “$royaltitle1?” you hear from the other side of the door. “Are you awake? Your morning meal is ready,” they call out. You recognize the voice as your royal maid, Kay. You approach the door, prepared to open it— Slam. The sound reverberated in the stillness, shocking you back into reality. Your heart raced as you stepped away from the door, confusion and a hint of dread washing over you. That wasn't Kay. What had just happened? You finally open the door, allowing Kay to come inside. “Good morning,” she said softly, a gentle smile on her face despite the lingering tension. “You seem to be startled. Are you alright?” Her hands, deft and practiced, placed the tray upon the expanse of the desk. "I must admit, I did not expect you to be awake." You’re still silent, as if you are trying to come to terms with everything that had occurred; Kay must not have heard it. You sit down at the desk, your mind still swirling with the remnants of your memories. The familiar scents of breakfast—warm bread and sweet jam—begin to ground you, but the unsettling feeling doesn't leave. “I'm... I'm fine,” you manage to say, forcing a smile. “Just a strange dream. Nothing to worry about.” But even as you say it, you can feel the weight of the lies. Kay's gaze lingers on you, her brow furrowing slightly. “If you ever feel the need to talk, I'm here for you,” she offers gently, her eyes filled with concern. You nod, grateful for her kindness, but the idea of opening up about your nightmares feels like a heavy cloud hanging over you. You long to shield her and others from the shadows that have been creeping into your thoughts and mind—both in the world of dreams and the one you live in. You finally move your fork towards your meal. As you savor each bite, your gaze drifts toward the mirror that adorned the wall above your desk. On its reflective surface, your $haircolor hair was the center of your attention. "I should start getting ready," you say, pushing your chair back with a soft grace as you rise to your feet. Kay darts over to your wardrobe, her hands dancing as she pulls out three beautiful outfits for you to consider. ---- <<cycle "$clothes" autoselect>> <<option "backless light blue dress">> <<option "white suit with blue and gold accents">> <<option "blue cloak with gold accents">> <</cycle>> ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Next|ch1.2]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> You choose your $clothes and carefully slip into the fabric. A soft wave of air accompanied the appearance of Kay, who reentered the room with a gentle smile, a diamond gifted by your husband in hand. As she approached, a familiar thought flickered in your mind—Ivan, your husband by law, the one who got what he wanted. It was an arrangement you hadn’t wanted at first, and frankly, you’re still not sure it’s what you want now. You remember hearing how he started to take an interest in you when you were just thirteen; he was only sixteen and had the audacity to beg his mother to allow him to marry you. How fortunate for him that the court wanted him to have a bride, and of all people, he chose you. “Thank you, Kay,” you said softly, forcing a smile. But beneath the surface, a storm raged. Ivan was your husband in name only, the product of an arrangement that felt more like a chain than a bond. You had never asked for this life, yet here you were, bound by duty and tradition. Kay noticed your silence. “It looks lovely on you. He’ll be pleased,” she remarked, her voice light, but you could sense the underlying thought—would you even be pleased? The blue diamond glinted against your chest, a symbol of a life you hadn't chosen. But you were expected to grow just like the flower, weren’t you? “I appreciate it,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. Yet deep down, the thought of being tied to someone you barely knew—the thought of being bound by duty—felt suffocating. You longed for freedom, for the chance to explore who you were beyond this gilded cage. But at the same time, you wanted to be here, to wield this power and become… better, whatever that meant in this constricting life. Kay’s expression shifted slightly, as if she sensed your tension. “It’s a beautiful day outside. Perhaps a stroll in the gardens would lift your spirits?” You hesitated; the idea of stepping outside sounded appealing. Would the beauty of the gardens soothe your restless heart, or would it only remind you of the life you felt trapped in? How lovely it would be to escape, if only for a moment. ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Go take a walk in the gardens|ch1.3garden]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Stay in your room|ch1.3stay]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> “Alright,” you agreed, trying to shake off the conflicting feelings. “A walk sounds nice.” As you stepped outside, the sunlight wrapped around you like a warm embrace, softening the edges of your worries—if only for a moment. Flowers bloomed in vibrant colors, their sweet fragrances mingling in the air. But even while admiring the beauty, the shadows of your thoughts lingered, as if they were determined to follow you. “Look at the roses,” Kay said, pointing to a bush bursting with red blooms. “They remind me of your mother. She always loved how they grew strong and resilient.” “Just like the flowers,” you murmured, your mother's words echoing in your mind, and wouldn’t she be thrilled to see where you ended up? “Even flowers grow through the dirt.” You had spent so long trying to convince yourself that you could, but the question remained—at what cost? “$firstname!” The call of your name jolted you from your thoughts. You turned to see Emir approaching, a look of urgency on his face. “There you are!” he said, as if he was in a hurry to find you. Emir was the younger brother of your husband. “Ivan told me to get you, but you weren't in your room.” Emir’s arrival felt strangely comforting in an unsettling way. “Ivan told you to find me?” you asked, curiosity piqued. “What does he want?” Emir simply shrugged. “He said he needed your opinion on something important. He’s in his office.” The thought of facing Ivan again—especially after the morning's unsettling emotions—made you apprehensive. What could he possibly want to discuss with you? Surely it couldn’t be anything good. “Alright, let’s go,” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt, though your heart was racing. As you walked alongside Emir, the vibrant garden faded behind you, replaced by the more formal paths leading to the palace's interior, the walls closing in like a reminder of your situation. “Do you think it's about the wedding?” Emir asked timidly, his eyes holding interest. “I overheard some of the advisors talking about it yesterday.” You paused, biting your lip. “I… I’m not sure,” you replied, the thought of discussing the wedding sending shivers down your spine. It felt like a life planned out for you, one that you had little say in. “He really admires you, you know? He constantly talks about you. I’m surprised my ears haven't fallen off,” he added, trying to lift your spirits, though it felt more like a burden than a comfort. You forced a smile, although your mind was racing, wondering if admiration could ever replace freedom. ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Next|ch1.4]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> You didn’t feel like heading out; instead, you decided to stay in your room. Your chamber was a sanctuary, a cozy retreat filled with rich tapestries and soft, muted colors that exuded warmth and comfort. The walls, painted a gentle cream, seemed to embrace the space, creating an atmosphere that felt like a warm hug—if only life outside felt the same. Intricate carvings of vines and flowers framed the large window, their delicate designs telling stories of peace, as if to remind you of what lay beyond your gilded cage. The morning sun filtered in through the glass, illuminating the room with a golden glow that danced across the surfaces, casting soft shadows that swayed with the gentle breeze. Heavy drapes, a deep ocean blue, hung elegantly from the window, their luxurious fabric pooling slightly on the floor. A plush four-poster bed dominated the room, draped with a canopy of silk that swayed softly, almost like the gentle waves of a tranquil sea. The bedding was a cascade of soft linens and fluffy pillows, inviting you to sink into their embrace after a long day. Each night, as you laid your head down, the bed enveloped you in comfort, cradling you in a cocoon of warmth and security, so long as you ignored the reality outside. Embroidered throw blankets, in shades of ivory and gold, were tossed casually across the foot of the bed, ready to provide extra warmth during chilly nights. On one side of the bed stood a small wooden nightstand, its surface adorned with an intricately designed lamp casting a warm glow that illuminated the space during the evenings. Across from the bed was a comfortable armchair, upholstered in a deep blue fabric that exuded richness and warmth. The chair was perfectly positioned near a crackling fireplace that filled the room with an inviting glow. The hearth was lined with carefully arranged logs, their earthy scent mingling with the warmth of the fire, a cozy ambiance that felt almost mocking. Above the fireplace hung a large painting of a calm ocean, depicting rolling waves and a serene water under a vibrant sunset, a scene you could only dream of. A small writing desk, made of polished oak, stood near the window, its surface cluttered with parchment, quills, and ink pots. A small vase filled with fresh wildflowers sat at the corner of the desk, their vibrant colors brightening the space, as if to say, "Look what you’re missing." As you breathed in the atmosphere of your chamber, someone called your name. “$firstname!” The call of your name jolted you from your thoughts. You turned to see Emir approaching, a look of urgency on his face. “There you are!” he exclaimed, as if he was in a hurry to find you. Emir was the younger brother of your husband. “Ivan told me to get you, but you weren't in the garden—surprise, surprise.” Emir’s arrival felt strangely comforting, a small respite in your otherwise suffocating life. “Ivan told you to find me?” you asked, curiosity piqued. “What does he want?” Emir simply shrugged. “He said he needed your opinion on something important. He’s in his office.” The thought of facing Ivan again—especially after the morning's unsettling emotions—made you apprehensive. What could he possibly want to discuss with you? Surely nothing good. “Alright, let’s go,” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt, though your heart raced with unease. As you walked alongside Emir, the vibrant garden faded behind you, replaced by the more formal paths leading to the palace's interior, the walls closing in a little closer. “Do you think it's about the wedding?” Emir asked timidly, his eyes holding interest. “I overheard some of the guards talking about it yesterday.” You paused, biting your lip. “I… I’m not sure,” you replied, the thought of discussing the wedding sending shivers down your spine. It felt like a life planned out for you, one that you had little say in—how delightful. “He really admires you, you know? He constantly talks about you. I’m surprised my ears haven't fallen off,” he added, trying to lift your spirits, though his words felt like a burden more than a comfort. You forced a smile, although your mind was racing, wondering if admiration could ever replace the longing for freedom. ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Next|ch1.4]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> You finally reached Ivan's office, a grand room filled with books and maps—so very regal, just like the life you never chose. The door was slightly ajar, and you could hear the murmur of voices inside. “Go on, he’s waiting,” Emir encouraged, nudging you gently, as if you had a choice in the matter. Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open and stepped inside. The moment you entered, Ivan looked up from his desk, dismissing an advisor, a smile lighting up his face. “$firstname! I’m glad you’re here,” he said, his voice warm, as if that would somehow ease the tension that hung in the air. He stood up to greet you and leaned in to place a kiss on your forehead, a gesture that felt more like a ritual than affection. “Ivan,” you replied, trying to keep your tone neutral, although you could feel your heart racing—not out of love, of course, but out of sheer nerves. You didn't know what would come out of his mouth next, and the uncertainty left a bitter taste. “Please, take a seat,” Ivan guided you to a chair across from his own. You sat down, trying to calm the tornado of emotions inside you. What was this discussion really about? “I wanted to talk about the upcoming events,” he began, his tone shifting slightly. “There's a festival approaching, and I think it's a perfect opportunity for us to make a public appearance together.” Your stomach tightened at the thought. Public appearances meant being scrutinized, judged, and expected to perform as a perfect $royaltitle1, and future $royaltitle2. But you wouldn't allow that; you wouldn’t let them judge you. “I think it could be… interesting,” you replied carefully, wishing you were back in the garden, far away from this pressure. “Interesting?” Ivan chuckled, a hint of playfulness in his tone. “I was hoping for more enthusiasm.” His playful tone clashed with the tightening in your chest. You felt the pressure of expectation bearing down on you, the idea of being put on display as a perfect couple feeling suffocating. “It's just… a lot to think about,” you managed to say, forcing your voice to remain steady—as if it ever really was. He leaned back in his chair, studying you with an expression that blended curiosity with concern, or maybe just irritation. “I understand, but this could be a wonderful opportunity for us. It’s a chance—” “But it's merely a facade?” you interrupted, unable to keep the words at bay. Ivan's expression shifted, surprise flashing across his features at your boldness. The weight of your words hung in the air; you both knew it was true. This would only be an act—he may have loved you, but you did not love him, at least not yet. Ivan leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, his gaze locked onto yours. “I understand your concern, but every royal duty has its layer of performance. It’s part of our responsibility to the people.” “But at what cost?” you countered, feeling a surge of passion. “If we're not genuine, then what's the point?” You stood from your chair, feeling the thrill of reclaiming your voice. You stood there, heart racing, feeling the weight of your own words. The tension in the room was thick, and you could see Ivan's surprise transform into an emotion you wouldn’t recognize, but perhaps you didn’t want to. You were not silent anymore; you decided to reclaim your voice, even though they sought to silence it. “Ivan,” you said, your voice firm yet steady, “I refuse to be a puppet for the court’s entertainment. I do not love you, and I am not going to pretend I do.” The tension cracked, and you could finally recognize the emotion on Ivan's face. It was disappointment—disappointment in you. “I should have expected that,” he muttered under his breath, the words dripping with resignation. At that moment, someone slowly opened the door—Flora. A gentle voice came from the doorway, capturing your attention and eliciting your response. Swiftly, your focus shifted towards her. Your gaze met hers, acknowledging her with a small smile, a welcome distraction from the heaviness of the moment. "Your majesty, please pardon me," her words carried a respectful tone, "but I was wondering if $royaltitle1 $firstname could accompany me for a walk." In response, you turned your gaze back to Ivan. He beckoned for you to go, oddly smiling as if the disagreement had never happened, granting you permission to leave—how generous of him. You found Flora drawing near, her hands extending to meet yours. You felt a sense of comfort as she gently guided your hands to rest upon her arm. As Flora led you away from Ivan's office, you felt a mix of emotions swirling within you. The disappointment etched on Ivan's face lingered in your mind, but Flora's presence provided a welcome distraction. “Are you alright?” Flora asked, sensing the heaviness that hung around you like a thick fog. Her eyes were filled with genuine concern, and it was comforting to know that someone cared. “I’m… managing,” you replied, trying to shake off the weight of the earlier confrontation. “It's just that things feel so complicated right now.” The two of you strolled along a corridor, the ambient lighting casting a warm glow on your skin. You turned your head to look at Flora, noticing that she had an unmistakable air of enthusiasm. "What's making you so happy?" you inquired, genuinely intrigued by her demeanor, a rarity these days. She paused briefly, a glint of excitement dancing in her eyes. "Callan... He's back home." You knew Callan. He was Flora's brother and a member of the royal military. You three used to be inseparable, but when Callan decided to join the military, the distance started to grow. Your steps continued in sync with Flora's; your relationship with Callan was maybe a bit too close, but who was keeping track? "How is he, Flora?" you asked, your curiosity piqued. A swift glance towards you and then her gaze returned to the path ahead. "He's alright, though he's been asking about you," she answered, her tone holding an almost teasing tone. She continued to speak, but her voice was muffled. You no longer felt her arm when you turned around to check. Gradually and with a nearly unnoticeable creak, a door at the distant end of the hallway began to swing open. In an instant, the room was full of darkness, reaching into every crevice and corner—as if the shadows had come to claim you. ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Next|ch1.5]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> "Flora," your voice sliced through the darkness. However, your plea hung unanswered as an eerie realization settled in; she had vanished, leaving a void where her presence once resided. You knew what was happening, as it had only occurred once before. The line between your dreams and reality became thinner. Amidst the quiet, the rumbling murmur of a voice slithered through the air, like tendrils of smoke weaving through your mind. The voice spoke with an echo, like the essence of a shadow itself. You moved towards the sound and found a man leaning against the wall in the farthest corner of the room. He smiled as you approached. He was quite a pale man. The hair on his head was as dark as midnight. He had an inky-looking sword at his side and wore simple black robes with gold lining. A tempting smile played on his lips. "Hello," he said. "It has been some time." He held out his hand. You were taken aback at this. You hadn't been expecting it, and you felt a bit hesitant. Slowly, you raised your hand to accept his. He smirked. "I expected you to decline, especially after our last meeting." He laughed and gestured to the empty chair. You slowly moved to sit. You studied his eyes as they gazed at you. They were black, so dark that it was hard to tell if he was looking at you or not. And suddenly, he disappeared. You looked around, searching to see if he was still there. But you started to feel drowsy. You knew that meant you were waking up. You opened your eyes to find yourself back in your room. The door opened, and Flora entered. She quickly realized you were sitting up. "Oh!" she said. "You're awake! I was worried. You passed out in the hallway. What happened?" You said nothing and only shook your head. She looked at you strangely and sighed. Sitting on the bed beside you, she put an arm around your shoulder. You rested your head against her and breathed in her scent. She smelled like roses, the same ones your mother loved. She rubbed your arm soothingly. "It's okay," she said softly. "I promise we will figure this out.” She sounded unsure of herself, but she continued to stroke your arm. The door opened, and someone entered. You looked up as the door opened again. Standing at the door was Ivan. "How are you feeling?" he asked. "Tired." You took another deep breath and blew it out. Ivan came closer to the bed. "I've called for a doctor. I'm sure he will be here shortly." He placed a hand on your forehead and said, "You are running a small fever." "How long have you been like this?" he asked. "Since $they passed out," Flora answers for you. Ivan paled. "You must get some rest now." He nodded to her and walked to the door. The sound of the door seemed to snap you out of your trance. You knew what was going to happen. Shadow only visits when Malakar awakens. You had hoped to never see him again, not after the last encounter that left you shaking and questioning everything. That night, you lost so much; you weren't ready to lose more. Malakar is death and chaos, manipulation and fear. You are just like him. You had glimpsed the chaos he could unleash, and now, with Shadow's visit, you feared that darkness was once again creeping into your life. Flora's comforting presence beside you was an entirely different feeling than the chaos swirling in your head. “What’s going on in your mind? You look lost,” she gently said, pulling you from your spiraling thoughts. You took a deep breath, feeling the warmth of her arm around your shoulders. “It's nothing.” You couldn't let them know—at least not yet. Flora studied you; she could see right through your lies. “You don't have to pretend with me. You can share whatever you're feeling. I’m here for you.” You always told her everything, but this couldn't be shared—not until you were ready. You knew they would try to stop you. ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Next|chapter2]]</div>

<<if settings.notifications>><<notify 3s>>Chapter Two<</notify>><</if>>\ <div style="text-align:center;"> !!Year of the Golden Star: 852 A.F. (After Founding) Days turned into nights, and the memory of the encounter refused to release its grip on you. The doctor's visits had been frequent, and while your fever had subsided, a lingering weakness persisted for some reason it would not go. Flora remained constantly by your side; her touch gentle and reassuring. Ivan's concern did not falter either. Each visit, he was at your bedside, searching for signs of improvement. You could see the worry in his eyes. Emir also visited after hearing of your condition. He would enter your room with a new book, eager to keep you occupied and fill your mind with something other than the nightmares that haunted you. One evening, as the sun cast its golden hues upon the room, Flora entered with a tray of tea and a gentle smile. "I thought this might help soothe your nerves," she said, setting the tray down on the table by your bed before speaking once again. “I have something else for you.” You turned to see Callan standing in the doorway. His presence jolted you with surprise. Callan's expression was a mixture of relief and concern as he gazed at you. Flora exchanged a quick glance with him before quietly excusing herself from the room, leaving you alone with her brother. Callan approached your bedside, his footsteps silent on the plush carpet. He pulled up a chair and sat down, his hands clasped together as he spoke softly, "I heard about what happened. How are you feeling?" You met his gaze, seeing the worry lines etched on his face. "I'm... I'm feeling better now," you replied honestly, grateful for his presence despite the circumstances. A brief silence enveloped you two before Callan spoke again, his voice tinged with hesitation. "I know we've been distant lately, but I want you to know that I'm here for you. Whatever you need, I am ready to give." His words hit you, bringing back memories of simpler times when the two of you were inseparable. The concern in his eyes was different from the usual mask of indifference he wore around others. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, softening his features. “I will always be here for you, no matter what challenges come our way.” His hands moved to your cheek, cradling it gently. He paused for a moment, brushing his thumb against your skin. You felt the warmth of his touch seep into you. As you looked into his eyes, a flood of emotions washed over you—gratitude, longing, and a sense of nostalgia for the bond you once shared. As Callan's thumb traced a tender path across your cheek, bittersweet memories flooded your senses. The touch of his hand against your skin awakened a long-buried desire for the closeness you once had. Just as the tension between you began to thicken, a sudden sound at the door made both of you turn your heads. Ivan stood there, his expression a mix of surprise and something darker lurking beneath. His eyes narrowed as he took in the intimate moment between you and Callan, his jaw clenching imperceptibly. A flicker of jealousy crossed Ivan's features before he masked it with a polite smile. "Forgive my intrusion," he said, stepping further into the room. "I heard you were feeling better and wanted to check on you myself." Callan's hand slowly withdrew from your cheek. You felt a small pang of regret at the loss of his touch, the warmth dissipating as he pulled away. Your eyes flickered between Callan and Ivan, sensing the tension in the room growing thicker by the second. Ivan’s gaze lingered on Callan for a moment, his expression inscrutable. Then, with a courteous nod towards him, he turned his attention back to you. "How are you feeling?" His voice was composed, but there was an underlying edge to it that didn't go unnoticed by either of you. You took a deep breath, trying to dispel the sudden unease that settled over you. "I'm... I'm feeling better, thank you," you replied, your eyes darting between Ivan and Callan. Silence filled the room, broken only by the soft rustle of fabric as Ivan took a step closer to your bedside. "I'm glad to hear that," he murmured, his gaze never leaving yours. There was an intensity in his eyes that sent a shiver down your spine. Callan stood up from his chair, a polite smile masking the flicker of tension that crossed his features. "I should let you two talk," he said, his voice neutral as he made his way toward the door. Before leaving, he cast a glance at you. As the door closed behind Callan, the room fell into heavy silence. Ivan took a seat by your bedside, his posture rigid yet filled with a sense of protectiveness that felt almost suffocating. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, analyzing, assessing. ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Next|ch2.1]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> "$firstname," he began, his voice low and measured. "I cannot help but worry about you. The events of the other night..." His words hung in the air. You met his gaze, searching the storm within his eyes for a glimpse of understanding. "Ivan," you started, unsure of how to address the mess of emotions swirling between the two of you. "I cannot bear the thought of something happening to you," he interrupts with a confession, his voice laced with a vulnerability that surprised you. A surge of warmth bloomed in chest his words, mingling with the tangled emotions that had taken root within you. "Ivan," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "It is simply fatigue." Your words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of your lies. Ivan stayed silent, absorbing your words. You sat together in silence before you decided to speak up. “It is late; I need to rest.” The tension between you two crackled in the air. Finally, he nodded in acceptance of your decision. "Of course, rest well," he murmured, his voice tinged with a hint of disappointment. As you settled back against the pillows and closed your eyes, the image of Ivan’s broken expression lingered in your mind. The room fell into a heavy silence once more, broken only by the soft sound of your breathing as sleep began to pull you under its comforting embrace. You drifted into a restless slumber. The morning sun painted the curtains of your chamber in hues of gold and amber as you stirred from your sleep. The weakness that had held you captive for days finally released its grip. A refreshing coolness washed over you, replacing the sweat-soaked sheets and the haze of delirium that had clouded your thoughts. You swung your legs over the edge of the bed. The world felt sharper, more vibrant, as if you had awoken from a dream into reality once more. You took a deep breath, savoring the crisp air filtering through the open window. As you dressed in fresh clothes laid out for you by kay, the door to your chamber creaked open, and a familiar face entered—General Idris, in all his stoic glory. His presence filled the room with an air of authority, and his light armor gleamed under the morning light. "Good morning, $royaltitle1," Idris greeted you. His voice carried no hint of warmth; it was purely business. "I trust you had a restful night?" You nodded. "Yes, General. I feel much better today." His presence felt unplanned; if he was here, it must be something important. You couldn't help but wonder what had brought him to your chamber this early in the morning. Idris's gaze met yours, his expression impassive as he spoke. "$royaltitle1, I trust you know why I am here." His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. Your brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of apprehension dancing in your chest. "No, I do not. What is it, General?" you inquired, your tone steady. Idris paused for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. "I have been assigned as your head royal guard," he stated matter-of-factly. Surprise washed over you at his revelation. "My royal guard?" you repeated. “I do not need one.” Idris's steely gaze met yours, his expression unreadable. "It is not a matter of what you need, $royaltitle1, but of what is required for your safety. The recent events have made it clear that extra precautions must be taken to ensure your well-being," he explained, his voice firm as if reprimanding a child. A spark of defiance ignited within you at his words. "I am perfectly capable of protecting myself, General Idris. I do not need a constant guard watching my every move. This was a one-time thing," you protested, your tone edged with frustration. Idris remained unmoved by your outburst. "With all due respect, $royaltitle1, it is not a request but an order," he stated firmly, his eyes piercing into yours. Just then, a thought crossed your mind—a way to maintain some semblance of control over your situation. "It's simply fatigue," you said, injecting a false sense of certainty into your voice. "After everything that happened, I just need some time to recover." Idris regarded you with a steady gaze, but you could see a flicker of concern in his eyes. "Fatigue or not, you must allow me to fulfill my duty to protect you," he replied, his tone unyielding. ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Accept his protection|ch2.2accept]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Decline his protection|ch2.2decline]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> You take a moment to take in General Idris's words. The realization dawns on you that there is no room for negotiation. After a long pause, you straighten your posture. "Very well, General. If it is what must be done, then it will be done." Idris's stern facade softens imperceptibly at your acquiescence. "I appreciate your understanding, $royaltitle1. Perhaps we can start with training?" he acknowledges. Training. The word lingered in the air, filled with implications of discipline, obedience, and sacrifice. Idris knew what noble house you were from; of course he would. You are the only child of the... ---- <div style="text-align:center;"> <div class="choice">[[House Aeloria]]</div> <div class="choice">[[House Drakenhart]]</div> <div class="choice">[[House Vespera]]</div> <div class="choice">[[House Eldenforge]]</div> <div class="choice">[[House Seraphine]]</div> <div class="choice">[[House Thornevale]]</div> <div class="choice">[[House Windrider]]</div> <div class="choice">[[House Frostbane]]</div> <div class="choice">[[House Ravenshadow]]</div> <div class="choice">[[House Silverleaf]]</div> </div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> You take a deep breath, your chest rising and falling with conflicting emotions. You meet his gaze, holding his steely look with a determined expression of your own. "I appreciate your concern, General Idris, but I cannot accept this. I understand the need for precautions, but I refuse to be confined to the confines of constant surveillance," you declare, your voice clear. Idris's jaw tightens imperceptibly, a flicker of something akin to admiration crossing his features. "$royaltitle1, it is not just for your safety but for the stability of the kingdom as well," he argues, his tone softening slightly in an attempt to appeal to you. But you stand your ground, your choice unchanging. "I understand, General, but I cannot sacrifice my freedom for the sake of security. I trust in my own abilities," you state firmly. Idris knew what noble house you were from; of course he would. You are the only child of the... ---- <div style="text-align:center;"> <div class="choice">[[House Aeloria]]</div> <div class="choice">[[House Drakenhart]]</div> <div class="choice">[[House Vespera]]</div> <div class="choice">[[House Eldenforge]]</div> <div class="choice">[[House Seraphine]]</div> <div class="choice">[[House Thornevale]]</div> <div class="choice">[[House Windrider]]</div> <div class="choice">[[House Frostbane]]</div> <div class="choice">[[House Ravenshadow]]</div> <div class="choice">[[House Silverleaf]]</div> </div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> House Aeloria is a noble family that has long been synonymous with creativity and harmony, residing in the breathtaking Eldergrove Valley. Their ancestral estate, Aeloria Manor, is a masterpiece of artistry, surrounded by manicured gardens filled with vibrant flowers and lush greenery that change with the seasons. With the motto "Nurture the Soul, Inspire the Heart," the family encourages artistic expression in all its forms, producing renowned painters, musicians, and writers throughout the generations. Each year, they host the Aeloria Arts Festival, a celebration that attracts talent and visitors from across the kingdom, showcasing the importance of culture and creativity in society. The family is also known for its diplomatic skills, often mediating disputes among other noble houses, ensuring that peace and understanding prevail. Is this your noble house? ---- <<button [[Yes, You are the only child of House Aeloria|ch2.3]]>><<set $house to "House Aeloria">><</button>> <<button [[No, you must have made a mistake|housechoices]]>><</button>></div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> House Drakenhart stands as a formidable pillar of strength and honor in the kingdom, renowned for its martial prowess and unwavering loyalty. Their ancestral home, Drakenhold, is a grand castle that reflects their military heritage, with imposing stone walls and banners that flutter proudly in the wind. The family motto, "Strength Through Honor," embodies their belief that true strength lies in defending the realm and upholding integrity. Each member is trained in the arts of combat from a young age, instilling a sense of discipline and respect for the ideals of chivalry. Over generations, House Drakenhart has produced legendary warriors and generals, celebrated for their bravery in battle and their commitment to protecting the innocent. Is this your noble house? ---- <<button [[Yes, You are the only child of House Drakenhart|ch2.3]]>><<set $house to "House Drakenhart">><</button>> <<button [[No, you must have made a mistake|housechoices]]>><</button>></div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> House Vespera is a noble family cloaked in an aura of secrecy and intrigue, known for its unparalleled skills in espionage and intelligence gathering. Their ancestral estate, Vespera Keep, is hidden deep within a dense forest, designed to protect their secrets and maintain their enigmatic reputation. With the motto "In Shadows, We Thrive," the family excels at navigating the complexities of court politics, often serving as advisors to influential figures while remaining in the background. Members are trained in the art of observation and subtle manipulation, allowing them to wield significant power without drawing attention to their actions. Knowledge is highly valued within House Vespera, and members are encouraged to pursue education in history, philosophy, and the arcane, creating a culture of intellectual curiosity. Is this your noble house? ---- <<button [[Yes, You are the only child of House Vespera|ch2.3]]>><<set $house to "House Vespera">><</button>> <<button [[No, you must have made a mistake|housechoices]]>><</button>></div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> House Eldenforge is celebrated as the kingdom's premier family of craftsmen and blacksmiths, deeply rooted in the art of forging. Nestled in the rugged Iron Hills, their ancestral stronghold, Eldenforge Keep, buzzes with the sounds of hammers striking anvils and the glow of molten metal. The family's motto, "Crafted with Purpose," reflects their philosophy that every weapon and piece of armor is not merely functional but a work of art imbued with intention and meaning. Generations of Eldenforge artisans have produced renowned swords and armor that are coveted by both nobility and warriors alike, elevating their status as master craftsmen. Is this your noble house? ---- <<button [[Yes, You are the only child of House Eldenforge|ch2.3]]>><<set $house to "House Eldenforge">><</button>> <<button [[No, you must have made a mistake|housechoices]]>><</button>></div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> House Seraphine is renowned throughout the kingdom for its commitment to justice, compassion, and the betterment of society. Their ancestral estate, Seraphine Hall, is a grand structure adorned with intricate architecture that reflects their noble heritage and dedication to service. With the motto "Justice and Mercy," the family prides itself on its role as protectors of the realm's most vulnerable citizens, advocating for the rights of the oppressed and ensuring that justice prevails. Many members of House Seraphine have served as judges, lawmakers, and counselors, using their positions to effect meaningful change within the kingdom. The family is also known for its philanthropic efforts, establishing schools and shelters that provide education and refuge for those in need. Is this your noble house? ---- <<button [[Yes, You are the only child of House Seraphine|ch2.3]]>><<set $house to "House Seraphine">><</button>> <<button [[No, you must have made a mistake|housechoices]]>><</button>></div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> House Thornevale is a powerful and ambitious noble family deeply entrenched in the politics of the kingdom, known for its intricate web of alliances and rivalries. Their ancestral estate, Thornevale Hall, is an opulent structure that boasts lavish décor and elaborate gardens, symbolizing their wealth and influence. The family motto, "Pride and Power," reflects their relentless pursuit of status and their belief in the importance of maintaining their noble lineage. Members of House Thornevale are adept at navigating the complexities of court life, skillfully engaging in political machinations to expand their reach. They are known for their cunning and strategic thinking, often using their resources to bolster their position in the kingdom. Family gatherings are filled with discussions of ambition and power, where members share insights and forge new plans to secure their legacy. While they are respected for their wealth and influence, they also face criticism for their often ruthless tactics in achieving their goals. Is this your noble house? ---- <<button [[Yes, You are the only child of House Thornevale|ch2.3]]>><<set $house to "House Thornevale">><</button>> <<button [[No, you must have made a mistake|housechoices]]>><</button>></div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> House Windrider is a noble family renowned for its deep connection to the skies and mastery of aerial exploration. Perched upon the lofty cliffs of the Skyreach Citadel, their ancestral home boasts breathtaking views and serves as a launching point for their grand airships. The family motto, "Embrace the Sky," embodies their adventurous spirit and insatiable thirst for knowledge. Members of House Windrider are trained in the art of navigation, engineering, and combat, honing their skills to become both explorers and warriors of the skies. They value freedom and the pursuit of discovery. The family is also known for its contributions to the advancement of technology, inventing innovative devices that enhance air travel and communication. Is this your noble house? ---- <<button [[Yes, You are the only child of House Windrider|ch2.3]]>><<set $house to "House Windrider">><</button>> <<button [[No, you must have made a mistake|housechoices]]>><</button>></div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> House Frostbane is a noble family that hails from the harsh, frigid north, known for its resilience and survival skills in the face of adversity. Their ancestral stronghold, Frostbane Keep, is a formidable fortress designed to withstand the brutal winters, featuring thick stone walls and roaring hearths that provide warmth and security. The family motto, "Endure the Chill," embodies their unyielding spirit and determination to thrive despite the challenges posed by their environment. Members of House Frostbane are skilled hunters, warriors, and tacticians, prepared for the harsh realities of their homeland through rigorous training. Is this your noble house? ---- <<button [[Yes, You are the only child of House Frostbane|ch2.3]]>><<set $house to "House Frostbane">><</button>> <<button [[No, you must have made a mistake|housechoices]]>><</button>></div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> House Ravenshadow is a distinguished noble family steeped in a rich tradition of knowledge, magic, and intellectual pursuit. Their ancestral estate, the Hall of Shadows, is a vast library and study filled with ancient tomes and scrolls, showcasing their commitment to the arcane and scholarly endeavors. The family motto, "Wisdom in Darkness," embodies their belief that true understanding often lies hidden beneath the surface, waiting to be uncovered by those who seek it. Members of House Ravenshadow are known for their keen intellect and mastery of various disciplines, from alchemy to history, and they often serve as advisors, scholars, and sages for the kingdom. With each new generation, they continue to inspire others to seek knowledge and understanding, solidifying their legacy as the kingdom's keepers of lore and wisdom. Is this your noble house? ---- <<button [[Yes, You are the only child of House Ravenshadow|ch2.3]]>><<set $house to "House Ravenshadow">><</button>> <<button [[No, you must have made a mistake|housechoices]]>><</button>></div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> House Silverleaf is a noble family renowned for its deep-rooted connection to nature and its commitment to environmental preservation. Their ancestral home, Silverleaf Glade, is a picturesque estate nestled within a sprawling forest, harmoniously integrating architecture with the natural surroundings. The family motto, "Harmony with Nature," reflects their belief that humanity should coexist peacefully with the environment, and they actively promote sustainable practices throughout the kingdom. Members of House Silverleaf are skilled botanists, herbalists, and rangers, often acting as guardians of the forests and wildlife. They are deeply respected for their knowledge of the land and its resources, sharing their expertise with local communities to ensure the health of the ecosystem. Is this your noble house? ---- <<button [[Yes, You are the only child of House Silverleaf|ch2.3]]>><<set $house to "House Silverleaf">><</button>> <<button [[No, you must have made a mistake|housechoices]]>><</button>></div>

---- <div style="text-align:center;"> <div class="choice">[[House Aeloria]]</div> <div class="choice">[[House Drakenhart]]</div> <div class="choice">[[House Vespera]]</div> <div class="choice">[[House Eldenforge]]</div> <div class="choice">[[House Seraphine]]</div> <div class="choice">[[House Thornevale]]</div> <div class="choice">[[House Windrider]]</div> <div class="choice">[[House Frostbane]]</div> <div class="choice">[[House Ravenshadow]]</div> <div class="choice">[[House Silverleaf]]</div> </div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> Idris's expression remains impassive, but there is a hint of something unreadable flickering in his eyes. After a moment of tense silence, he gives a curt nod. "As you wish $firstname. But know that my duty is to protect you, whether you accept it or not." He makes his way out of your bedroom door stationing a guard at the entrance of your room. You watch as General Idris leaves, his footsteps echoing through the hall. With a heavy sigh, You turn away from the door and move further into your room. You make your way to the ornate writing desk tucked away in a corner of the room. The polished wood gleams under the candlelight, inviting you to sit and lose yourself in the art of calligraphy. You select a piece of parchment and an inkwell, letting the rhythmic scratch of the quill on paper fill the silence that now envelops you. With each stroke of the quill, you felt... ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Anger|ch2.4]] <div class="choice">[[Sad|ch2.4]] <div class="choice">[[Happy|ch2.4]] <div class="choice">[[Scared|ch2.4]] <div class="choice">[[Indifferent|ch2.4]] <div class="choice">[[Worried|ch2.4]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> Which, to you, just felt right. No one could discredit your emotions. Your mother always told you that you could be stubborn, but she would follow it up with the reminder that such stubbornness might one day save your people when you became a leader. Being a pushover would get you nowhere in life. Your father, however, never agreed. He believed that your stubbornness would make you less marketable in marriage. Was he right? Maybe. Yet, here you are, stuck in a marriage you do not want to be in. Or maybe you do? Feelings can change just like the seasons. Fall has reached its end, and you wonder if the first snowfall will be your first taste of love. With that thought the first snowfall of the season began to drift down outside your window, a gentle blanket of white that transformed the world. You couldn't help but wonder if this new season would also bring a transformation within you—a chance to find the love and connection you had always craved, but on your own terms. You open the window and reach out. A snowflake lands on your outstretched hand. As the snowflake melts on your palm, you feel a rush of calmness course through you. You take a deep breath, inhaling the crisp, cold air that fills your room. Could love blossom in the winter of your discontent? Determined to find answers, you close the window, letting the chill of the outside air settle in your room. “It’s late; you should probably head to bed.” Shocked by the sudden voice, you turn around, only to find no one there until a hand falls onto your waist. You turn again, and there he is. “Hello, Darling.” Your heart races in shock as you face the man before you—Shadow. His presence is both familiar and unsettling, a blend of darkness that has haunted your thoughts and a magnetic pull that draws you in. “What are you doing here?” you manage to ask, every instinct telling you to retreat, but curiosity anchors you in place. “I’ve come to see you,” he replies smoothly, his voice low and alluring, like velvet draping over you. The warmth of his hand on your waist sends shivers down your spine. “You’ve been thinking a lot, haven’t you?” ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><li><div class = choice-item> [[Be defensive..who does he think he is?]] </div></li> <li><div class = choice-item> [[Deflect his question...it's worked in the past, it might work again.]] </div></li> <li><div class = choice-item> [[Flirt...you know you shouldn't but it's so tempting.]] </div></li></div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> His words echoed your own thoughts. You took a step back, creating distance, but his gaze held you captive. “I don’t need you to tell me what I already know,” you countered, your voice steadier than you felt. “Oh, I know, darling,” he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “Your stubbornness is admirable, but sometimes it clouds your judgment.” Frustration bubbled within you. “What do you mean by that?” Shadow stepped closer, and you could feel the tension in the air shift. “I’m not here to judge. I’m here to warn you,” he said, his eyes glinting like stars in the night sky. His words were expected. “And what are you warning me of?” you asked, your voice low. “You know exactly what... He's back, $firstname,” he replied, his voice smooth as silk even while carrying the bad news. “You know what needs to be done.” You hesitated; you knew there would be a war—one you would have to lead. “You’re asking me to abandon everything I’ve known,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “What if I fail?” “What if you succeed?” he countered, his gaze unwavering. “What if this is your chance to rewrite your fate? To discover your own path?” You felt the weight of his words sink in, the air thick with possibility. The snow continued to fall outside. “I need time to think,” you said finally, your heart racing at all the choices before you. Shadow nodded, his expression softening just a fraction. “Take your time, darling.” With that, he stepped back, the warmth of his presence receding like a fleeting dream. As he vanished into the shadows, you were left standing alone, the snowflakes gently landing on your windowsill. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath and feeling the chill of the air wrap around you. You felt a sudden need to sleep; as you made your way to your bed, you realized why you felt this sudden sleepiness. You allowed yourself an unnoticeable smile at the thought of Shadow looking after you. When you finally reached the bed, the moment your head hit the pillow, you fell asleep. ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Next|chapter3]]</div>

“It is normal to think, is it not? Besides, you haven't answered my question. Why are you here?” He lets out a small laugh, almost in disbelief. “Avoiding my questions is an old trick,” he lowers his voice to a whisper, saying the next words with a mocking tone, “It doesn’t work anymore.” He tilts his head to the side, as if reading your face to see what you are thinking. “Your stubbornness is admirable, but sometimes it clouds your judgment.” Curiosity bubbled within you. “And what exactly do you mean by that?” Shadow stepped closer, and you could feel the tension in the air shift. “I’m not here to judge. I’m here to warn you,” he said, his eyes glinting like stars in the night sky. His words were expected. “And what are you warning me of?” you asked, your voice low. “You know exactly what... He's back, $firstname,” he replied, his voice smooth as silk even while carrying the bad news. “You know what needs to be done.” You hesitated; you knew there would be a war—one you would have to lead. “You’re asking me to abandon everything I’ve known,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “What if I fail?” “What if you succeed?” he countered, his gaze unwavering. “What if this is your chance to rewrite your fate? To discover your own path?” You felt the weight of his words sink in, the air thick with possibility. The snow continued to fall outside. “I need time to think,” you said finally, your heart racing at all the choices before you. Shadow nodded, his expression softening just a fraction. “Take your time, darling.” With that, he stepped back, the warmth of his presence receding like a fleeting dream. As he vanished into the shadows, you were left standing alone, the snowflakes gently landing on your windowsill. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath and feeling the chill of the air wrap around you. You felt a sudden need to sleep. As you made your way to your bed, you realized why you felt this sudden sleepiness. You allowed yourself an unnoticeable smile at the thought of Shadow looking after you. When you finally reached the bed, the moment your head hit the pillow, you fell asleep. ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Next|chapter3]]</div>

“Maybe I have,” you replied, you knew the implications you were making, and you hoped he would catch them. The hand on your waist tightened slightly, just enough to let you know that he understood your intentions. He leaned his head down to your left shoulder, his breath warm against your skin, before laying a light, almost unnoticeable kiss upon it. Curiosity bubbled within you. “Are you…?” He raised his head, a smirk dancing on his lips, clearly aware of the question you were about to ask. "You know I can't answer that question, darling." “And what exactly do you mean by that?” Shadow stepped closer, and you could feel the tension in the air shift. “I’m not here to judge. I’m here to warn you,” he said, his eyes glinting. His words were expected. “And what are you warning me of?” you asked, your voice low. “You know exactly what... He's back, $firstname,” he replied, his voice smooth as silk even while carrying the bad news. “You know what needs to be done.” You hesitated; you knew there would be a war—one you would have to lead. “You’re asking me to abandon everything I’ve known,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “What if I fail?” “What if you succeed?” he countered, his gaze unwavering. “What if this is your chance to rewrite your fate? To discover your own path?” You felt the weight of his words sink in, the air thick with possibility. The snow continued to fall outside. “I need time to think,” you said finally, your heart racing at all the choices before you. Shadow nodded, his expression softening just a fraction. “Take your time, darling.” With that, he stepped back, the warmth of his presence receding like a fleeting dream. As he vanished into the shadows, you were left standing alone, the snowflakes gently landing on your windowsill. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath and feeling the chill of the air wrap around you. You felt a sudden need to sleep; as you made your way to your bed, you realized why you felt this sudden sleepiness. You allowed yourself an unnoticeable smile at the thought of Shadow looking after you. When you finally reached the bed, the moment your head hit the pillow, you fell asleep. ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Next|chapter3]]</div>

<<if settings.notifications>><<notify 3s>>Chapter Three<</notify>><</if>>\ <div style="text-align:center;"> !!Year of the Golden Star: 852 A.F. (After Founding) The soft glow of winter sunlight streamed through your window, casting a gentle light across the frosted room. You woke up feeling refreshed, the lingering tension from the night before slowly melting away like the snow beginning to thaw outside. The weight of everything still loomed in the back of your mind, but today, you decided to embrace the stillness of the snow. You stretched and smiled at the quietness around you, the world outside blanketed in a fresh layer of snow, creating a serene and beautiful scene. ---- <<cycle "$clotheswinter" autoselect>> <<option "Floor-length light blue coat with fur lining">> <<option "Dark blue coat with fur lining">> <</cycle>> ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Next|ch3.2]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> After preparing for the day, you made your way to the kitchen for a change, where the aroma of freshly baked bread filled the air. The warmth of the hearth and the scent of cinnamon reminded you of cozy mornings spent with your family. The head chef seemed to be working on some pastries. You were hungry so you tried to sneak a piece. You felt like a child again hiding in the kitchen to get an extra cookie. As you tiptoed closer to the counter, the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth was heard with your unstealthy movements. The head chef, a burly man named Henri, was engrossed in his work, rolling out dough and carefully arranging fruit fillings inside the delicate pastries. You couldn't help but smile at the sight. With a quick glance to ensure Henri was still distracted, you reached out for a pastry that had just come out of the oven. It was golden brown and glistening with a sheen of melted butter. Just one little bite wouldn’t hurt, would it? As your fingers brushed the warm pastry, a voice rumbled behind you. “Looking for a treat, $royaltitle1?” You spun around, heart racing, to find Henri grinning at you, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Caught in the act, you sheepishly pulled your hand back, trying to sound sure of yourself. “I was just—um, checking on the quality control!” Henri chuckled, shaking his head. “Quality control, you say? Well, I suppose a taste is necessary for someone in your position.” He reached for the pastry you had almost taken and expertly sliced it in half, revealing the warm, gooey filling bursting with flavor. “Here,” he said, handing you one half. “But only because it’s freshly baked and needs a royal seal of approval!” You accepted the pastry with gratitude, the warmth of it radiating in your palm. “Thank you!" You took a bite, and the flavors exploded in your mouth—sweet, buttery, and perfectly spiced. “This is incredible!” you exclaimed, savoring the moment like a child indulging in a forbidden treat. He starts wiping his hands on his apron. “Now, if you’re up to it, I could use a hand with the next batch of pastries.” Your heart lifted at the invitation. “I’d love to help!” You joined Henri at the counter, rolling up your sleeves and starting the process. Together, you mixed flour and sugar, kneaded dough, and filled pastries with sweet fruit and cream. "Chef Henri?" You call out. "Do you think I could take some? For the others of course." As you gathered the freshly baked goods to take with you, Henri patted your shoulder. “Absolutely! Go share these with the others.” You nodded, a smile spreading across your face as you made your way to the door, the warmth of the kitchen still lingering with you. Who should you give the pastries to first? ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Ivan|ch3.3Ivan]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Emir|ch3.3Emir]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Idris|ch3.3Idris]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> The sun streamed through the tall windows as you approached the door of Ivan’s office. You held a basket filled with freshly baked pastries, your palms slightly sweaty with anxiety. You hoped this gesture might ease some of the tension between you and your arranged husband, even if you weren't quite sure it would. You knocked softly on the door. “Come in!” Ivan’s voice called out, echoing slightly in the quiet room. You took a deep breath, trying to muster some confidence, and opened the door, stepping inside. The sight of him seated at his large, ornate desk, surrounded by scrolls and maps, felt both welcoming and intimidating. His brow furrowed in concentration as he looked up, and you could see the surprise flicker across his face. “What a surprise!” he said, his expression shifting from focus to something that resembled genuine delight, though there was a hint of confusion in his eyes. “What brings you here?” You smiled awkwardly, holding out the basket as if it were a peace offering. “I thought you might enjoy some pastries to brighten your day. I know you’ve been busy.” Ivan raised an eyebrow, skepticism creeping into his expression. “You made these?” “Yes. I helped Chef Henri make them,” you admitted with a light chuckle, though it felt forced. “And I chose an assortment that I thought you’d like.” He leaned forward, intrigued but still guarded. “You know me well enough to know my favorites already? This is… unexpected.” He took a chocolate éclair from the basket, hesitant at first, and took a bite. His eyes lit up, but there was a touch of awkwardness in his smile. You laughed softly, trying to shake off the tension but feeling a knot in your stomach. “I’m glad you approve. I thought you could use a break from all… this.” You gestured to the piles of scrolls on his desk, which seemed to multiply by the minute. Ivan sighed, leaning back in his chair, his expression becoming more serious. “You have no idea how overwhelming it can be. All of this… it’s a lot.” “I understand,” you replied, your voice softening slightly. “It’s strange. I never imagined I’d be marrying someone I hardly know. It’s a lot to process.” With a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, he said, “Maybe we can change that. I mean, get to know each other better. We’re in this together, after all.” You paused, considering his words, but the awkwardness lingered in the air, thick and palpable. “You’re right…” The silence stretched between you, and you both looked down at the basket, unsure of what to say next. ---- <div class="choice">[[Can you tell me more about your family? What are they like?]]</div> <div class="choice">[[What were you working on?]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> You decide to visit Emir, eager to share some of the delicious pastries you’ve just baked. You make your way to the library. Arriving at the door of the library, you enter quietly. Emir ,who had been sitting on one of the chairs near the front of the library, saw you. “What a lovely surprise,” he says, standing up from his chair. “What brings you here?” “I brought you some pastries.” you say, holding out the box. “I thought you might enjoy them.” Emir’s eyes brighten with enthusiasm as he takes the box from you, carefully lifting the lid to reveal the assortment of treats inside. “You made these?” He glances up at you, his expression filled with delight. “I can’t wait to try them.” You watch as he picks up a pastry, taking a bite with an appreciative expression. “Mmm! These are delightful!,” he says, savoring the taste. “I’m glad you like them,” you reply, feeling a sense of pride. His calmness always puts you at ease, and you find yourself relaxing as you settle into a comfortable conversation. As you both enjoy the pastries, the room fills with laughter and easy chatter. Emir shares about his recent reads, his enthusiasm shining through. “I’ve been thinking about trying my hand at baking more,” Emir says, his eyes lighting up. “Really?” you exclaim, genuinely excited. “What have you tried baking so far?” “Mostly cakes and cookies,” he replies, a hint of pride in his tone. “But I’ve never tried pastries before. I’d love to learn how to make them. It seems like fun!” ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Offer to teach him -♡]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Tell him that Chef Henri could teach him]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> You decide it’s time to share some of your pastries with General Idris. As you stroll through the courtyard, you spot him walking back from the barracks, feet crunching in the snow, his posture tall and commanding as always. Clad in his military uniform, he looks serious and focused. When he notices you, he stops, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “General Idris!” you call out, waving your hand in greeting. He turns toward you, maintaining a guarded expression but allowing a hint of surprise to cross his face. “What brings you here?” he asks, his voice steady and authoritative, lacking the warmth you had hoped for. “I brought you some pastries I just baked,” you say, holding out the box with a tentative smile. “Chef Henri helped me, and I thought you might enjoy a little treat.” His eyebrows raise, and for a brief moment, you see a glimmer of surprise. “Pastries? You shouldn’t have,” he replies, taking the box from your hands, though there's a slight edge to his tone. As he lifts the lid to reveal the assortment of pastries, you watch closely, hoping for a positive reaction. His eyes scan the delicate creations, and you hold your breath. “What do we have here?” he asks, his curiosity piqued but still guarded. “There are cream puffs, fruit tarts, and a few chocolate éclairs,” you explain, trying to sound enthusiastic. General Idris picks up a cream puff and takes a hearty bite. There’s a pause as he savors it, and you can’t help but notice a flicker of genuine enjoyment in his eyes. “Mmm. Not bad,” he admits, his demeanor softening just a fraction. “I assume you made these?” “Yes, I did! I’m glad you like them,” you nod, feeling a rush of warmth at his compliment, a playful glint in your eyes as you add, “I put a lot of love into them—something to brighten up a busy day, wouldn’t you say?” “Breaks are a luxury,” he remarks, his voice steady again as he takes another bite. “But I suppose everyone needs one.” He glances around the courtyard, his expression reverting to its usual seriousness. Taking the opportunity, you ask, “What did you do at the barracks?” hoping to coax him into a more open conversation. “Talking to a few guards,” he replies, his tone matter-of-fact. “They'll be taking my place as your guard when I’m gone.” Your curiosity piqued, you ask, “What do you mean by ‘gone’?” concern seeping into your voice as confusion washes over you. He meets your gaze. “I’m sure you’ve heard about the issues at the border. Tensions have been rising, and I might have to go take care of it,” he explains, his voice calm but firm. ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[When will you be back?" -💕]]</div> <div class="choice">[["Oh...." -🫂]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> As you settled into the moment, you turned to Ivan with curiosity. “Can you tell me more about your family? What are they like?” While you had interacted with the rest of the family, you didn't know everything about them. Ivan leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. “Well, my mother, Hera, is the head of our family and the Queen of Florin. She’s incredibly dedicated to the kingdom and its citizens.” You nodded, intrigued. “She's a strong leader.” “She is,” Ivan replied, a hint of pride in his voice. “She’s caring and kind, always putting the needs of others first. But she can be strict, especially with us—her family. I think she believes it’s necessary to prepare us for our roles.” “Do you find that hard?” you asked. Ivan sighed softly. “Sometimes. The expectations can feel overwhelming. There’s a certain pressure to always uphold the royal image and to make decisions that reflect well on the family.” He paused, his gaze drifting to the window. “What about your brother?” you inquired, eager to learn more. “Ah, Emir,” he said, a small smile creeping onto his face. “He and I are quite different in many ways. Emir is not very expressive....except when he’s around you, it seems.” He says the last part quietly as if he wasn't sure. “He’s a good listener, though, and I appreciate that about him.” “I’ve noticed,” you replied thoughtfully. ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[What were you working on?]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Go find the others]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> “About that I actually need your help with something,” he said, his brows furrowing slightly with concern. “With the current pressure on the borders of the kingdom, I’m unsure which route to take...I know that $house is quite knowledgeable in this.” You leaned in. “What kind of pressure are we talking about?” “There have been reports of increased activity from neighboring territories, and I’m worried about how to respond. I want to protect our people without escalating tensions unnecessarily.” “What options are you considering?” you asked, a bit confused as to why he was asking you. You knew you had been taught every detail and aspect of war, but as a prince, he had been taught it as well, so why was he asking you? “I’ve thought about a show of strength—perhaps a military display to deter any aggression. But I know that this could cause further conflict,” he admitted. “On the other hand, I could approach it diplomatically, but I’m not sure if that would be seen as weakness.” You nodded, contemplating the situation. “Have you considered combining both?” Ivan looked intrigued. “What do you mean?” “Perhaps you could approach it diplomatically while also preparing your military. This way, you’re showing that you’re open to negotiation but also ready to protect your kingdom if necessary,” you suggested. “It shows strength without being too aggressive.” “That’s a good point,” he said, his expression softening. “It could help..” He rises from his chair, the creaking of the wood barely audible in the stillness of the room. With a soft smile illuminating his features, he gazes at you, his eyes sparkling with affection. “What would I do without you?” he asks, his voice warm and sincere, as if the very thought of facing life without you was unimaginable. The look of love on his face is unmistakable. ---- <div class="choice">[[“Well, good thing you have me then,” - ♡]]</div> <div class="choice">[["Oh, come on, it’s not that serious" - 💕]]</div> <div class="choice">[["Honestly, you’d probably figure it out just fine without me," - 💔]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> With a small grin, you lean in slightly, “Well, good thing you have me then,” you say, a light laugh escaping your lips. The sound dances in the air, mixing with the gentle rustle of silk curtains swaying in the breeze. He chuckles, a hint of warmth in his gaze. “I guess I’m pretty lucky, huh?” he replies, his eyes lingering on yours. You playfully roll your eyes, the embroidery of your coat catching the light as you shift. “Lucky? More like blessed,” you tease, placing a hand over your heart. “After all, who else would put up with your questionable sparring tactics?” He feigns a gasp, “How dare you?My sparring is the finest in the kingdom!” You lean in a little closer, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Oh please, remember that time you tried to distract Idris by yelling? We definitely need to have a talk about your strategies.” He bursts into laughter, the sound filling the study and bouncing off the stone walls. “Alright, you’ve got me there. But honestly, I wouldn’t trade my time with you for any opponent in the world.” A warm flutter spreads through you, making your heart race just a bit. He steps a little closer, the air between you thick with unspoken words. “And I’ll always be grateful for you—no matter the...circumstances.” And then, in a moment that feels both quick and timeless, he leans down and presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering just a heartbeat longer than necessary. It’s a sweet gesture, filled with warmth and affection, and it sends a delightful shiver through you. As he pulls back, a light blush dusts his cheeks, but his smile remains bright. “Now, I really must attend to other matters,” he says, his tone sincere yet tinged with regret. “But I’ll be counting the moments until I can see you again." ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Go find the others]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> You chuckle lightly, trying to brush off the heavy emotion. “Oh come on, it’s not that serious,” you say, waving a hand dismissively as a faint blush creeps into your cheeks. “Have you seen the snow outside? We should really think about planning that outing we talked about.” You tattempt to redirect the conversation, hoping to ease the weight of his earlier words. He raises an eyebrow, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “The snow?” “Yes, the snow.” You say obviously, looking around the office, searching for validation among the books and papers scattered about. The moment stretches between you, a comfortable silence settling as you share a tentative smile, both of you lost in thoughts of what could be. But then he glances at the clock on the wall, and reality sets back in. “Ah, speaking of it,” he says, straightening up and looking at the papers scattered across his desk. “I really should get back to work. You know how it is—royal duties and all that.” “Oh, right. Of course,” you say, your heart sinking slightly at the thought of leaving. “I didn’t mean to take you away from your work.” He shakes his head, his expression softening. “No, no! I always appreciate our conversations. They make the day a bit...brighter.” He pauses, a serious look returning. “But I do have to get things done, or I’ll hear about it from the council.” You nod, feeling a mix of disappointment and warmth at his words. “I understand. I’ll let you get back to it then.” As you turn to leave, he calls out, a hint of sincerity in his voice. “And don’t forget to bring more snacks next time.” You pause at the door, a shy smile breaking across your face. “I won’t forget,” you reply, glancing back at him, feeling the warmth of his gaze. “Goodbye for now,” he says, a touch of affection in his voice. ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Go find the others]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms defensively. “Honestly, you’d probably figure it out just fine without me,” you say, your tone sharper than you intended. “You always do.” The words come out like a blade, sharper than you meant, and they hang in the air, cutting through the calm between you. For a moment, silence fills the room, the warmth of his gaze faltering as the words sink in. You see surprise turn to hurt on his face, and guilt rushes over you. “That’s...,” he says, his voice quiet. “not what I expected to hear.” You look away, unable to meet his eyes. “I know.” “Then what is it?” he asks, concern knitting his brow. “I thought we were on the same page about this.” “I was never okay with it,” you reply, frustration bubbling inside you. “I thought I could handle it, but the pressure is suffocating. It feels like I’m being swept into something I didn’t choose.” He steps closer, his expression softening. “We’ve been planning this together. I thought we were building a future—together.” “Building a future?” you echo, feeling your voice rise. “It’s your future, Ivan. I’m just supposed to fit into it? I can’t do that.” His concern deepens. “I never wanted you to feel like you didn’t have a say. We can work through this.” You shake your head, the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. “I’m not sure I want to anymore.” “Are you saying you want to walk away?” he asks, confusion and sadness mingling in his voice. You take a shaky breath. “I can’t just walk away, but I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with this either.” A heavy silence envelops you as he processes your words. “I never wanted to lose you,” he whispers. You turn away, emotions swelling inside you as you walk toward the door. The weight of the conversation lingers in the air, pressing down on you as you step outside, leaving him behind with everything left unsaid. ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Go find the others]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> !!!Who will you see next? ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Ivan|ch3.3Ivan]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Emir|ch3.3Emir]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Idris|ch3.3Idris]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Maybe I should eat the rest myself? (End of visits)]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> You smile warmly, feeling a rush of excitement at the thought of sharing your love for baking with Emir. “I’d love to teach you! We can set up a whole baking day, if you'd like?” Emir’s eyes widen slightly, and a shy smile spreads across his face. “That sounds amazing!" he says, his voice tinged with eagerness but softened by a hint of bashfulness. “I’m really looking forward to it. It’ll be great to spend time together..." His gaze drops for a moment, a shy grin crossing his face as he imagines the day ahead. Suddenly, he glances at the clock, his eyes widening in surprise. “Oh no, I have to go! I forgot I had a meeting today.” He quickly grabs his book, a hint of fluster in his movements. Before rushing out, he leans in and gives you a quick, shy kiss on your left cheek. You raise your hand to where his lips touched, a rush of warmth flooding through you as you blink in disbelief. The unexpectedness of the kiss leaves you momentarily speechless. ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Go find the others]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> You think for a moment, considering the idea of suggesting Chef Henri. “You know, I think Chef Henri could teach you a lot. I'm sure he wouldn't mind...he taught me how.” Emir raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Really? Well If you say so I'll stop by the kitchen later.” A moment of silence passes. “You know,” Emir says, leaning back in his chair thoughtfully, "I’ve been reading this incredible book lately that I think you’d really enjoy.” “Oh really? What’s it called?” you ask. “It’s called Whispers of the Forgotten by Elara Winters,” he replies, his eyes lighting up. “It’s a written fantasy about a magical artifact. Its so interesting, I can't put it down.” Emir leans forward. “I think you'd like it very much.” Emir says, grabs the book off the table. He hands it to you, and you admire the cover, which features a whimsical illustration of a necklace chain. “I hope you love it as much as I do. Let me know what you think once you start reading” A moment later Emir turns to look at a clock, before grabbing his things urgently. "I have to go, I forgot I had a meeting today" He grabs small notebook before giving you a rushed hug. ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Go find the others]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> A knot tightens in your stomach as you ask, “When will you be back?” You’re desperate for some kind of reassurance. Even though you’ve only known him for a few months, the thought of him leaving feels heartbreakingly real. He takes a moment to think, his expression serious. “It’s tough to say. It really depends on how things unfold. But I promise I’ll come back as soon as I can,” he replies, his voice steady, though you can’t hear any guarantees in his words. A sinking sensation washes over you at his words. General Idris meets your gaze, and for a brief moment, you catch a flicker in his eyes—perhaps a sign of understanding or a hint of vulnerability. “Just promise me you’ll take care of yourself out there,” you say softly. He nods slightly. “I will,” he assures you, his voice low and sincere. A blush creeps into your cheeks at his response, fully aware that your feelings for him go beyond friendship. “Thank you...” you say, your voice softer than you meant it to be. After a moment, he sets down the half-eaten cream puff and looks at you with a serious expression. “I should get going. There’s a lot to prepare for,” he says, his tone steady but laced with reluctance. You nod, trying to mask the disappointment rising in you. “I understand. Thank you, for taking the time to talk,” you reply, making an effort to keep your tone light, even as your heart feels heavy. His gaze lingers on you, and you sense an unspoken connection in the air. “Just promise you’ll take care of yourself while you’re away,” you say earnestly, searching his eyes for something—anything—that you can hold onto. “I will,” he replies, his tone firm yet gentle. “And I’ll be counting on you to be on your best behavior.” You manage a small smile, noticing his teasing tone. “I’ll do my best.” General Idris steps back, straightening his posture as he prepares to leave. “Goodbye for now,” he says softly. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” “Goodbye, General,” you whisper, feeling a lump in your throat. “I’ll be waiting for you.” He gives you one last look, a mix of gratitude and something deeper shining in his eyes. Then, with a final nod, he turns and walks away. ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Go find the others]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> You nod, masking your concern as best you can, though the weight of his words lingers in your chest. “Oh… I see,” you reply softly, your voice carrying a quiet understanding. General Idris gives you the faintest of nods, almost imperceptible, his expression settling back into its usual stern composure. “For now, though,” he says, his tone lighter, “let’s focus on these pastries. They’re quite good.” He takes another bite, and for a moment, you catch a flicker of genuine appreciation in his eyes. You seize the chance to keep the mood from sinking further. “I’m glad you think so,” you reply, a playful smile tugging at your lips. The thought of him returning stirs something warm in your chest, and you nod eagerly. “I’ll save a batch just for you, then. Consider it a welcome-back gift.” His gaze softens as it meets yours, and for a heartbeat, it feels as though the rest of the world has faded away. “I’ll hold you to that,” he says, his voice low, carrying a sincerity that makes your breath catch. The air between you grows quiet, heavy with words left unspoken. You hesitate, your heart pounding as you try to find the right ones. “Idris, I…” you start, but the sentence falters, slipping away before you can finish. He rises to his feet, straightening his uniform with the effortless grace of someone who’s done it a thousand times before. “I’ll be back before you know it,” he says, his tone teasing but no less sincere. “And when I return, I expect to see those pastries waiting for me.” You smile, though there’s a lump in your throat you’re determined to ignore. “They’ll be ready,” you assure him, your voice steady despite the ache in your chest. With a final nod, he turns to leave, but not before casting one last glance your way. “Take care of yourself while I’m gone,” he says, the words carrying more weight than they should. “I will,” you promise, your voice soft but firm. You watch as he walks away, his commanding figure growing smaller until he disappears into the distance, leaving you with a quiet longing and the faint hope of his return. ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Go find the others]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> You glance down at the pastries left in the box. “Well,” you say to yourself, a small grin tugging at your lips, “if no one else is around to enjoy these, I suppose it’s my duty to take care of them.” You settle into a chair at a nearby table, the courtyard blanketed in a soft, quiet layer of snow. The air is crisp and cold, but the weak winter sun casts a pale, golden light that makes everything feel just a little warmer. You open the box, and your stomach lets out a low, impatient growl. “Alright, alright,” you chuckle, your breath forming a small cloud in the chilly air. “Let’s not keep these waiting.” First up, the chocolate éclair. You take a bite, and oh—oh—it’s perfect. The cream inside is rich and velvety, practically melting on your tongue. You can’t help but let out a little hum of satisfaction, your cheeks flushing from more than just the cold. Next, the fruit tart. It’s almost too pretty to eat, with its glossy strawberries, bright kiwi slices, and plump blueberries. Almost. You take a bite, and the crisp shell shatters, giving way to the creamy filling underneath. “Mmm,” you murmur, your mouth still half-full. “I might’ve outdone myself with this one.” By the time you get to the last cream puff, you’re feeling pleasantly indulgent. You pop it into your mouth, the powdered sugar dusting your fingers as you do. It’s light, airy, and just sweet enough. Leaning back in your chair, you let out a long, contented sigh, your breath curling into the frosty air. The courtyard is quiet now, the kind of quiet that only comes with winter. The world feels hushed, like it’s holding its breath. You sit there for a moment, just breathing, the taste of sugar still lingering on your lips. For the first time all day, your mind feels still. Eventually, you gather up the empty box and stand, brushing a few stray snowflakes from your sleeves. The cold nips at your nose, but you don’t mind. You take one last look around the courtyard, the snow sparkling faintly in the light, before heading inside. Dinner will be soon, but for now, it’s enough. ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Next|ch3.4]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> As you reach your room, you close the door softly behind you, leaning against it for a moment. The quiet of your room wraps around you like a warm blanket, and you let out a deep breath, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease just a little. The soft glow of the fireplace and the familiar scent of lavender from the sachets on your dresser make the room feel like a sanctuary. You glance at the clock—dinner will be soon, and you want to look your best. Standing in front of the mirror, you run your fingers through your hair, smoothing out the strands and adjusting a few loose pieces. Your reflection stares back at you, and for a moment, you let yourself just be. Today has been... a lot. You lean closer to the mirror, noticing the faint shadows under your eyes, the slight tension in your jaw. “Get it together,” you whisper to yourself, your voice barely audible. You take another deep breath, letting it fill your lungs before exhaling slowly. With one last look, you force a smile, letting it grow until it feels real. The warmth of your spirit pushes through the cracks of your weariness, and you nod at your reflection. Feeling as ready as you’ll ever be, you turn and step out of your room, closing the door gently behind you. The palace corridors are quiet, the soft glow of lanterns casting flickering shadows on the stone walls. The familiar atmosphere is comforting, but as you walk, something catches your eye—a painting that wasn’t there before. It hangs just beyond the circle of light, its edges shrouded in darkness. Your steps slow, and your heart skips a beat. You pause, your instincts prickling. The corridor feels unnaturally silent, the usual hum of the castle absent. You take a cautious step closer, your eyes narrowing as you try to make out the details of the painting. The colors are muted, the figures indistinct, but something about it feels... wrong. Then, movement. Just beyond the edge of the lantern light, you see it—a hand, pale and still, barely visible in the shadows. Your breath hitches, and your pulse quickens. “What was that?” you murmur, your voice trembling slightly. You can’t shake the feeling that something is off. You take another step, your heart pounding in your chest. It’s probably nothing, just your imagination running wild, but you can’t ignore the pull to investigate. As you reach out to touch the painting, a cold hand suddenly grabs your arm, its grip like ice. A jolt of fear shoots through you, and you gasp— You wake up with a start, sitting bolt upright in bed, your chest heaving as if you’ve been running. The nightmare clings to you, its tendrils wrapping around your thoughts, and you clutch the blankets tightly, trying to ground yourself. The moonlight streams through the window, casting silvery beams across the floor, and the familiar sights of your room slowly bring you back to reality. “Just a dream,” you whisper, your voice shaky. But the phantom grip on your arm still lingers, a cold echo on your skin. You take several deep breaths, willing your heart to slow down. Pushing the covers aside, you swing your legs over the edge of the bed and stand, your feet touching the cool floor. The unsettling feeling from the nightmare hasn’t completely faded, and you move to the window, pulling the curtain aside to peek outside. The night is calm, the stars twinkling like tiny diamonds scattered across the sky. The moon hangs high and pale. You rest your forehead against the cool glass, letting the stillness of the night soothe you. “It was just a dream,” you repeat, more firmly this time. But as you turn away from the window, the faintest whisper of unease follows you, like a shadow you can’t quite shake. ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Next|ch3.5]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> “Hey! Are you in there?” Emir’s voice calls from the other side of the door, tinged with concern. “Why didn’t you come to dinner?” You startle at the sound, pulling yourself out of the fog of your thoughts. When you open the door, Emir is standing there, his face softened by a look of worry. His eyes scan your face, and he raises an eyebrow, taking in your slightly disheveled appearance. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he says, his tone light but laced with concern. “Are you okay?” You blink, still feeling a little disoriented, and glance at the clock on your wall. The hands are much further along than you expected, and a rush of panic washes over you. “Dinner? I… I missed dinner?” you stammer, your voice faltering as the remnants of your nightmare cling to your thoughts. “I’m fine… it’s nothing,” you add quickly, though the words feel hollow even to you. Emir’s expression softens, and he steps inside, closing the door behind him. “We were all wondering where you were,” he says, his tone gentle now. “I came to check on you after you didn’t show up. You had us worried.” You run a hand through your hair, trying to shake off the lingering unease. “I’m sorry… I must have fallen asleep,” you admit, your voice quiet. He nods, crossing his arms as he leans casually against the wall. “It’s all right. These things happen.” His gaze lingers on you for a moment, as if he’s debating whether to press further, but he seems to decide against it. Instead, he offers a small smile. “Dinner’s over, but I can have the chef make you something. You must be hungry.” The thought of food is suddenly appealing, especially after the emotional whirlwind of the day. “I would like that,” you reply, managing a faint smile in return. “Great,” Emir says, pushing off the wall and heading toward the door. “I’ll let them know.” He pauses in the doorway, glancing back at you. “Try not to scare us like that again, alright? We care about you, you know.” You nod, feeling a small pang of guilt. “I’ll try,” you promise. As he steps out into the hallway and closes the door behind him, the room feels quieter, emptier. The warmth of his presence lingers, but the silence settles around you again, heavy and familiar. You sigh, sinking onto the edge of your bed. ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Next|ch3.6]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> As you stand in the silence of your room, the tension in your chest begins to ease. Just then, a soft knock at the door pulls you from your thoughts. You turn and open it to find Emir standing there, a warm plate of food in his hands and a gentle smile on his face. “Dinner is served,” he announces playfully, stepping into the room with a flourish as he places the steaming dish on your desk. The chef has outdone themselves—roasted vegetables glistening with herbs, tender slices of meat, and a fragrant sauce that makes your mouth water. “I thought you might appreciate a little comfort food after the day you’ve had,” Emir says, his eyes warm with understanding. “You deserve it.” “Thank you so much,” you reply, your voice filled with gratitude as you take a seat at the table. The kindness of the gesture touches you more than you expected, and for a moment, you feel a lump rise in your throat. “You really didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” you say between bites, savoring the flavors. “This is incredible.” Emir leans back in his chair, his expression playful yet sincere. “I know, but I wanted to make sure you felt cared for.” His words catch you off guard, and you feel a faint smile creep up onto your lips. You nod, feeling a bit flustered by his kindness and the way he seems to see right through you. It’s both comforting and a little unnerving. By the time you finish your meal, you lean back in your chair. “Thank you again for this,” you say, looking up at Emir with genuine appreciation. Emir smiles, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the candlelight. “I’m just glad you're feeling better.” With your stomach satisfied, you feel the fatigue beginning to settle in. “I think I’ll head back to bed,” you say, grateful. “Alright,” Emir replies, standing to clear the table. “I’ll leave you to it.” He heads toward the door, his presence lingering even as he steps into the hallway. Once alone, you crawl into bed, the softness of the sheets welcoming you. The room feels quieter now, the shadows less imposing, and you let out a long, breathy sigh. ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Next|ch3.7]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> But as you lie in the stillness of your room, the weight of the everything presses down on you, suffocating. The quiet, once comforting, now feels heavy, like a blanket that’s too thick, too warm, too much. You close your eyes tightly, as if by sheer will you could dissolve the world around you into nothingness. But the darkness behind your eyelids is no escape—it’s alive, pulsing. The unsettling painting, the nightmare that felt too real, the cold grip of fear that still lingers on your skin—it all claws at the edges of your mind, refusing to let go. A prayer escapes your lips, raw and desperate, barely more than a whisper. You don’t know who you’re praying to, or if anyone is listening, but the words spill out anyway, a plea into the void. “Grant me mercy,” you beg silently, your heart pounding in your chest. “Please, just let me sleep. Let me forget, even for a little while.” You beg for peace, for the kind of sleep that doesn’t come wrapped in terror. You yearn for the sanctuary of dreams that flow like gentle rivers, where reality fades into the background and the world feels soft, kind, and far away. You want to wake up in the morning feeling untouched, unbroken, as if the night hadn’t tried to claim you. “Please,” you whisper again, your voice trembling as it fades into the silence. The weight of despair presses down on your chest, constricting your breath, as if the air itself has turned thick and heavy, refusing to let you fill your lungs. You feel small, fragile, like a threadbare cloth stretched too thin, ready to tear at the slightest touch. The line between dreams and reality blurs, and you’re caught in a maze of your own making, spiraling deeper into the abyss. Shadows twist and shift at the edges of your vision, even though your eyes are closed. The nightmare lingers, not just in your mind but in the room itself, as if it’s waiting for you to let your guard down so it can pounce. “Let me sleep,” you implore the void, the darkness, the unseen forces that swirl around you. Your voice is barely audible, but the plea is deafening in your heart. You’re so tired—not just in body, but in soul. You want to rest, truly rest, without the fear of what awaits you in the quiet. But as you lie there, the silence thickens. The darkness feels alive, watching, waiting. You clutch the sheets tighter, your knuckles whitening, as if they could anchor you to something real, something safe. You don’t know if mercy will come, but for now, the hope of it is enough to keep you breathing, to keep you holding on. And so you wait, in the stillness, for the dawn to break. ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Next|chapter4]]</div>

<<if settings.notifications>><<notify 3s>>Chapter Four<</notify>><</if>>\ <div style="text-align:center;"> !!Year of the Golden Star: 852 A.F. (After Founding) You wake up the next morning, surprisingly dreamless, as if the night had wrapped you in silence. For a moment, you lie still, savoring the unfamiliar calmness that surrounds you. The weight that had pressed down on your chest during the night seems to have lifted, leaving you feeling lighter, as if you might float away. You stretch cautiously, half-expecting the shadows to creep back in and shatter the calm. But they don’t. You sit up slowly, glancing around the room. The remnants of the previous night’s fears linger faintly in the back of your mind, but they are dull. As you swing your legs over the edge of the bed, you can hardly believe you made it through the night. Stepping onto the cool floor, you move to the window, pulling back the curtains to let the light pour in fully. You dress quickly, as you make your way to the dining hall, the palace feels different in the morning light. The stone walls that had loomed ominously the night before now seem warm and inviting. The corridors are active with the sounds of servants going about their morning tasks. Entering the dining hall, you are greeted by the sight of Ivan, already seated at the table, his attention momentarily absorbed in a letter. He looks up as you enter, a smile breaking across his face that mirrors the warmth of the sun. “Good morning,” he calls, his voice soft. “I was beginning to think you’d sleep the whole day away.” “Good morning,” you reply, taking a seat across from him. The table is laid with a simple but hearty breakfast—fresh bread, fruit, and a steaming pot of tea. As you begin to eat, the conversation between you is light, filled with casual remarks about the weather and the day ahead. It’s a quiet, comfortable exchange, and for a moment, you let yourself simply enjoy the normalcy of it. After breakfast, Ivan looks at you with a thoughtful expression. “So, I was wondering,” he begins, his tone shifting slightly, “if you’d like to join me in saying farewell to the troops. They’re preparing to leave soon.” The thought hangs in the air, you could go, give a proper farewell to Idris and the others, or you could stay inside. Ivan watches you, his gaze steady but not pressing. “Would you like to come?” he asks again, his voice gentle, leaving the choice entirely in your hands. ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Join Ivan in saying goodby|ch4.1go]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Stay in your room|ch4.1stay]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> You nod slowly. “Yes, I’d like to join you,” you reply, your voice steady. “Great,” Ivan responds, his smile widening. He gestures toward the door, and you follow him out into the frosty morning. The soldiers stand in neat rows, their armor gleaming against the pale winter light, their breaths visible in the cold air. You spot Idris among them, his tall and commanding presence making him easy to pick out. He stands at the front, his posture straight and confident, every inch the general he is. Ivan leads you closer, and as you approach, Idris turns his head, his sharp eyes landing on you. A small, almost imperceptible smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “$royaltitle1, I’m glad you could attend,” he says, his voice low but warm. “I wouldn’t miss it,” you reply. There’s something about his presence that grounds you, even in the midst of the bustling courtyard and the biting cold. Just then, a familiar voice calls out, cutting through the hum of voices. “Hey! Are you going to come say goodbye or just stand there?” You turn to see Callan striding toward you, his usual grin plastered across his face, though there’s a hint of something softer in his eyes. His breath fogs in the air as he speaks, and he rubs his hands together to ward off the chill. “Callan!” you exclaim, rushing forward to meet him. “You’re leaving too?” “Yeah, I am,” he replies, a hint of sadness in his eyes as he glances back at his fellow soldiers. “It’s sooner than planned, but I’m ready for it. We’ll be fine.” He shrugs, trying to play it off casually, but you can see the weight of responsibility on his shoulders, and it tugs at your heart. “But you just got back,” you protest gently. “I know, $firstname,” he says, his tone softening. “But this is part of the job. Sometimes, things happen.” He gives you a reassuring smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll be back before you know it. Plus, I have to come back and tell you all the stories.” You laugh softly, though there’s a lump in your throat. “You better,” you say, trying to keep your voice light. “I’ll hold you to that.” As the time for them to leave draws near, Ivan steps forward, addressing the group with the formal grace befitting his title. “Thank you all for your service and dedication,” he begins, his voice carrying across the courtyard, steady and strong despite the cold. “Your courage and commitment do not go unnoticed. We await your safe return.” The soldiers nod in acknowledgment. You take a moment to look around, committing the scene to memory. Idris turns to you, and for a moment, the noise of the world fades away. “I’m really glad you’re here,” he says, sincerity etched in his expression. You meet his gaze, your heart swelling with pride and a touch of sadness. “I’m proud of all of you,” you say softly. “Just promise you’ll come back safe.” “Always,” he replies, and you can see the determination in his eyes. “We’ll be back before you know it.” Idris places his hand over his chest, his fingers moving in a deliberate motion. You recognize it as French sign language, though the meaning escapes you. Still, the gesture feels intimate, a silent promise meant just for you. You simply smile back, hoping your expression conveys everything you can’t put into words. As they begin to move, you raise your hand in a wave, your eyes following them until they disappear into the distance, their figures growing smaller against the snowy ground. You glance at Ivan, who stands beside you, a look of quiet admiration on his face. “You did well,” he says softly, his gaze still fixed on the horizon. You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. The morning sun shines brightly, casting a warm glow over the snow-covered courtyard, and for a moment, you let yourself believe that everything will be alright. The soldiers will return, and until then, you’ll hold onto the hope that their courage will see them through. With a deep breath, you turn back toward the palace. ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Next|ch4.2]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> “No, thank you,” you reply softly, offering Ivan a reassuring smile. “I think I’d rather stay here for a while. Just... take it easy.” Ivan studies your face for a moment, his gaze thoughtful but not probing. He nods, understanding flickering in his eyes. “Alright,” he says, his voice gentle. “Just know that if you change your mind, we’ll be in the courtyard.” With that, he stands, gathering his things. “Take care, and I’ll see you later,” he adds, giving you a small, encouraging nod before heading out. You take a deep breath, you decide to return to your room. You close the door behind you, shutting out the world for a little while. With no disturbances, you allow yourself to simply exist in this moment, to let your thoughts settle. You walk over to the small shelf beside your bed, your fingers brushing against the spines of the books lined up neatly. After a moment of consideration, you pull out one that catches your eye—the book that Emir gave you. You settle into the armchair by the window, tucking your legs beneath you and opening the book. Time passes slowly, the sun shifting across the sky as you read. For the first time in what feels like forever, you feel a sense of peace. And for now, that’s enough. ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Next|ch4.2]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> Later that evening, after the soldiers have departed and the day has settled into a quiet calm, you find yourself in room. You light a few candles, their soft glow casting flickering shadows on the walls, and begin to unwind, shedding the weight of the day. Just as you’re about to sink into the comfort of your armchair, you hear a soft knock at your door. You open it to find Flora standing there, her face filled with distress. Her usual brightness is overshadowed by sadness, and your heart sinks at the sight. Her eyes are red-rimmed, and she clutches a handkerchief in her hands, twisting it nervously. “Flora,” you say gently, stepping aside to let her in. “What’s wrong?” She enters your room, her shoulders slumping as she takes a seat on the edge of your bed. “I can’t believe Callan is leaving again,” she says, her voice shaky. “It feels like just when I finally get him back, he’s taken away again.” You sit down beside her, the mattress dipping slightly under your weight. “I know it’s hard,” you reply softly, placing a comforting hand on her back. “He just got back, and now he’s off again. It’s unfair.” Flora nods, tears welling in her eyes. “I just… I thought this time would be different. I hoped he’d stay longer, that we’d have more time together.” Her voice breaks, and you can see the struggle she tries to hide, the way her hands tremble as she twists the handkerchief tighter. “It’s okay to feel that way,” you reassure her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Callan cares about you, and he’ll always come back. He’s strong, and he’s got a whole army watching his back.” “But what if something happens to him this time?” Flora’s voice is barely above a whisper, her fear spilling over. "I can’t bear the thought of losing him." You gently squeeze her shoulder, wanting to provide as much comfort as you can. “He’s going to be okay, Flora. You know how capable he is. He’s been through so much already, and he always finds his way back to you.” She leans into you, taking a deep breath as she fights back the tears. “I just wish he didn’t have to go at all. I miss him already.” “I know,” you say, your heart aching for her. Flora nods slowly, her tears spilling over despite her efforts to hold them back. “I just wish I could be more supportive without feeling so helpless,” she murmurs, her voice thick with emotion. “You’re already being supportive just by caring,” you remind her gently. “And when he returns, you’ll be there waiting for him. That matters so much more than you think.” After a moment of silence, Flora wipes her eyes and takes a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling as she tries to steady herself. “Thank you for listening,” she says, her voice a little stronger now. “I didn’t mean to come in here and unload on you.” “Of course,” you reply, giving her a warm smile. “You can always talk to me. Anytime, Flora.” Slowly, Flora’s expression begins to lighten, the shadows in her eyes receding just a little. “You’re right,” she says, managing a small, shaky smile. “I guess I just need to focus on the fact that he’ll be back. I really appreciate you being here for me.” ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Tuck a piece of hair behind her ear - ♡|ch4.3tuck]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Hug her - 🫂|ch4.3hug]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> You reach out and gently tuck a loose piece of hair behind Flora’s ear, your fingers brushing against her soft skin. It’s a small gesture, almost reflexive, but in this moment, it feels like so much more. Flora looks up at you, surprise flickering in her eyes, followed by a soft smile that breaks through her sadness. “Thank you,” she whispers, her voice steadying as she meets your gaze. There’s a warmth in her expression now, a glimmer of the brightness that usually defines her. You both sit in comfortable silence for a moment, the weight of her earlier distress lifting gradually. The room feels softer now, the tension easing as Flora takes a deep breath. Flora stands up, drying her eyes with the back of her hand. “Thank you for being here,” she says, her voice stronger now. “I really don’t know what I’d do without you.” You stand with her, the space between you filled with an unspoken understanding. As she turns toward the door, “You’ll never have to find out,” you say softly. Flora’s smile widens, and for a moment, the sadness in her eyes is replaced by something brighter, something hopeful. She doesn’t say anything more,as she heads toward the door. As the door closes behind her, you take a deep breath, You sit back down, the candles flicker, casting soft shadows on the walls, and you let yourself sit with the feeling, just for a little while. Because sometimes, the most beautiful things are the ones that hurt just a little—and you wouldn’t trade this for anything. ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Next|ch4.4]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> You take a moment to gauge Flora's state, and seeing her vulnerability pulls at your heartstrings. Without hesitating, you wrap your arms around her, pulling her into a hug. Flora leans into you, her body shaking slightly as she releases the pent-up feelings she had been holding back. You can feel the warmth of her tears soaking into your shoulder, and you hold her tighter, as if your arms could shield her from the world. “It’s okay,” you whisper softly into her hair, your voice a steady. “I’m here for you. You don’t have to go through this alone.” After a few moments, Flora’s sobs begin to quiet, and she pulls back slightly, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Her face is flushed, her lashes damp, but there’s a softness in her expression now, a quiet relief. “Thank you,” she murmurs, her voice muffled but sincere. “I really needed that.” You smile gently, brushing your thumb across her cheek to catch a stray tear. “You don’t have to thank me. We’re friends, and that’s what friends do.” Flora nods, her lips curving into a small, grateful smile. “I feel a little better now,” she admits, her voice steadier. “I guess I just needed to let it all out.” You both sit in comfortable silence for a moment, the weight of her earlier distress lifting gradually. The room feels softer now, the tension easing as Flora takes a deep breath. Flora stands up, drying her eyes with the back of her hand. “Thank you for being here,” she says, her voice stronger now. “I really don’t know what I’d do without you.” You stand with her, the space between you filled with an unspoken understanding. As she turns toward the door, “You’ll never have to find out,” you say softly. Flora’s smile widens, and for a moment, the sadness in her eyes is replaced by something brighter, something hopeful. She doesn’t say anything more,as she heads toward the door. As the door closes behind her, you take a deep breath, You sit back down, the candles flicker, casting soft shadows on the walls, and you let yourself sit with the feeling, just for a little while. Because sometimes, the most beautiful things are the ones that hurt just a little—and you wouldn’t trade this for anything. ---- <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[Next|ch4.4]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> Once Flora has left, the room feels hollow, the silence pressing in on you like a weight. You move to the window, pushing it open to let the cold night air rush in. The breeze bites at your skin, sharp and refreshing, but it’s not enough to shake the restlessness that’s taken hold of you. The walls of the palace, once comforting, now feel like they’re closing in. You need to get out, to breathe, to escape. Without thinking, you grab your cloak and slip into the hallway. The flickering candlelight casts long, dancing shadows on the stone walls, and the palace feels eerily quiet, as if it’s holding its breath. You move quickly, your footsteps soft against the floor, until you reach a side door. It creaks as you push it open, and you step outside into the cold embrace of the night. The moon hangs high above, its pale light casting an eerie glow over the snow-covered grounds. The sky is empty, no stars to break the vast darkness. You don’t know where you’re going, but your feet carry you forward, away from the palace and into the forest that borders the estate. The trees loom tall and ancient, their branches heavy with snow, and the air is thick with the scent of pine and frost. You don’t have a lantern, but you don’t need one. The moonlight guides you, its silver beams cutting through the dense canopy. The forest is alive with the sounds of the night—the rustle of leaves, the distant hoot of an owl, the crunch of snow under your boots. It’s both beautiful and unnerving, and you feel a strange pull, as if something is calling you deeper into the woods. You don’t question it. You just keep walking, your breath forming little clouds in the cold air. The further you go, the more the forest seems to close in around you, the trees growing denser, the shadows darker. And then, suddenly, you collide with something solid. You stumble back, your heart leaping into your throat. Blinking rapidly, you try to make sense of what’s in front of you. There, sprawled on the forest floor, is a body. Your stomach twists as recognition hits—it’s the same face from the painting, the same figure that haunted your dreams the night before. “No… no, this can’t be,” you whisper, your voice trembling as you drop to your knees beside the lifeless form. The smell of death is sharp and metallic, and you reach out cautiously, your fingers brushing against their cold, pale skin. The touch sends a shiver through you, but you can’t look away. As you lean closer, trying to process what you’re seeing, a sudden rustle in the underbrush snaps you to attention. Your heart pounds as you grip the body’s cold hand, feeling something shift within its grasp. You pull it free—a pendant, silver and intricately designed, with strange symbols etched into its surface. It glints in the moonlight, and for a moment, you’re transfixed. But then you hear it—the sound of movement, soft and deliberate, coming from the shadows. Your head snaps up, and your breath catches in your throat. A figure emerge from the darkness, their form cloaked in black, their eyes glinting like shards of ice. They move silently, their presence suffocating, and you realize with a sinking feeling that you’re not alone. The figures step closer, their movements deliberate, predatory. The forest seems to hold its breath, the night itself waiting to see what happens next. You swallow hard, your voice barely a whisper as you say the name. <div style="text-align:center;"><div class="choice">[[“Malakar…”|the end]]</div>

<div style="text-align:center;"> !This is the end of the demo! Thank you so much for reading!! If you'd like to follow my progess or send me any glitches/bugs or questions here is my tumblr! Tumblr: https://fateunwritten-if.tumblr.com/ </div>