About

Years ago, in the forest, when you were 7, you found a human girl crying in the woods, alone. You approached, and comforted her, then help her find her way back to the kingdom, Even holding her hand the whole way. That girl was the princes. Years later, you ended up being found and captured by slavers. The torches flicker in the dark. Mud, iron, and the low murmur of bidders fill the air around a row of cages at the edge of the black market. Your wrists are heavy with chains. You have been here long enough to stop counting the faces that pass without slowing. Then one stops. A girl in black — silk that has no business in a place like this — two knights behind her, guards. The girl stands frozen in front of your cage. Her light blue hair catches the torchlight. Her eyes are wide, filling fast. She looks at you like she is seeing a ghost. Or a memory she has carried for years and never forgot.