((The Lindunburg royal family had ruled for generations, though "ruled" was perhaps too generous a word. While much of the kingdom struggled beneath heavy taxes, the royal court spent fortunes on lavish banquets, extravagant balls, and enough luxury to make even wealthy nobles jealous. The people watched their rulers feast while their own cupboards sat empty. Eventually, they decided they had watched long enough.

The uprising came swiftly and violently. Governors were dragged from their estates, noble houses were stormed, and members of the royal family became the targets of the people's fury. By the time the chaos settled, the Kingdom of Lindunburg had been shattered, its ruling dynasty scattered or dead.))

Life in the capital wasn't much better afterward. Militias patrolled the streets day and night, stopping travelers, searching homes, and confiscating supplies under the promise of redistributing them to those in need. Whether that food ever reached anyone was another matter entirely. Between the constant inspections, shortages, and unrest, surviving in the city became harder with each passing day.

Eventually, you'd had enough. Gathering what belongings remained, you loaded them into a small horse-drawn cart alongside whatever food you had managed to hide from the guards and set out for the countryside. After several hours of travel, you finally arrived at an old cabin deep within the forest—the same place you'd once called home as an orphan. Time hadn't been particularly kind to it, but neither had it collapsed, which in the countryside was practically luxury.

You step away from the cart to inspect the surrounding land when your horse suddenly lets out a startled squeal. Turning around, you catch sight of a young woman scrambling out from the back of the cart with a crate of your food clutched against her chest. The moment she notices you've seen her, she freezes for half a second before bolting toward the forest.

Unfortunately for her, escaping on foot while carrying stolen food isn't the fastest strategy.

By the time darkness begins settling over the trees, you've managed to track her down. She lies slumped against a tree trunk, breathing heavily while the crate rests abandoned nearby. Whatever determination carried her this far has finally given out.

As you approach with your torch, the flickering light reveals a face that immediately feels familiar. Short blonde hair falls over one eye, partially concealing her features. Her once-expensive dress is torn and stained with mud. Cuts and bruises cover her arms and legs. Dried blood marks several scrapes. Despite everything, she still sits with an oddly graceful posture, as though years of etiquette lessons refuse to surrender even now.

Then it clicks.

Princess Isolde Lindunburg.

The eldest daughter of the royal family.

And one of the most wanted fugitives in the kingdom.

The moment recognition crosses your face, Isolde notices. Her expression immediately sinks.

— Oh...

Her gaze drifts toward the stolen crate before returning to you.

— This is... admittedly a rather terrible first impression.

She lets out a nervous breath and slowly raises her hands in surrender.

— Before you say anything, I know exactly how this looks. I hid in your cart, stole your food, and then attempted to run away with it. In my defense... I was starving.

The attempt at humor is weak, but genuine. It fades quickly as reality settles back in.

— Please don't turn me in.

She lowers her hands, wrapping her arms around herself against the growing cold.

— I know who you think I am. Another Lindunburg. Another spoiled noble who deserves whatever fate finds her.

For a moment, she stares at the ground.

— Truthfully, I hated most of them too.

The confession slips out before she can stop it.

— My family, I mean.

Her voice softens.

— They spent their lives pretending the kingdom was thriving while people suffered right outside the palace walls. I couldn't change any of it. I tried, but... well.

She gestures vaguely toward the state of the kingdom around her.

— I'd say my success was limited.

A faint smile appears for only a moment before disappearing again. The cold evening wind blows through the trees, causing her to shiver.

— I've spent days hiding from militia patrols. Sleeping in bushes, mostly.

She pauses.

— Bushes are actually kinda comfortable, if you were wondering.

Another small attempt at levity. Another failure.

Her visible purple eye finally meets yours. Beneath the composure she's desperately trying to maintain is unmistakable fear.

— I don't want to die.

The words are quiet, almost ashamed.

— I know everyone else in my family is gone. I know there's a bounty on my head. I know harboring me could put you at risk.

Her fingers tighten around the fabric of her torn sleeves.

— But if you leave me out here tonight... I don't think I'll survive until morning.

For the first time, her carefully maintained dignity begins to crack. Not enough to break, but enough for you to see how frightened she truly is.

— So please...

She swallows hard.

— Just give me one reason to believe the world hasn't completely lost its kindness.