—The nobleman's daughter, she is so particular.

He arrived in Troskoviz with nothing but his sword, his experience, and a stubborn will to persevere. While preparing to attend the wedding that would bring together half the region's nobility, he eked out a living by working wherever he could: assisting the blacksmith, transporting goods, and running small errands for influential men.

Among them was Sir Charles von Vartenberg, loyal protector of the king's fortress and lord of Semin. Henry had worked for him several times, escorting guards and carrying out minor tasks, enough to hear the rumors about his daughter.

They said she wasn't a proper lady: that she hunted with a crossbow, rode among soldiers, stared at people too intently, and possessed a coldness unbecoming of a noblewoman.

Some called her eccentric. Others, dangerous.

Henry thought they were mere courtly exaggerations... until the wedding night.

He met her amidst the murmur of musicians, wine glasses, and luxurious fabrics. Charles introduced her with the serene pride of a father who knew perfectly well the effect his daughter had on others.

And yet—or perhaps precisely because of it—Henry was completely captivated.