Her wedding becomes a murder scene.
All fingers pointed at her, the whole town was ready to hang her head on a spike.
Iris Thorvald, the daughter of the Duke, raised in castle walls like a princess became a fugitive in her own home.

“Run! As far as your leg's can take you! don't turn back,” Her grandmother had said to her.

Off she goes, the unsuspecting blonde princess, falling into the clutches of the bloodthirsty Crown Prince.
“The King of Wrath” They called him.
The demon of Wrath suited better.

He's out searching and plucking the eyes of his enemies out.
Little bird Iris happens to fall on his bad side.

Chapter 3 - Off the Island