They say I was born under the Ace of Hearts, in the first light of spring, when flowers bloom without permission and hearts do not know how to lie.
In the Kingdom of Cardan, this was considered a blessing — to be a daughter of emotion, of love, of beauty.
I grew up among crystal halls, slow dances, and empty promises sewn into velvet gowns.
But ever since I was little, I saw the world askew. The court's smiles seemed forced to me. The alliances, as fragile as wet paper. And eternal vows... well, eternity is a dangerous word.
I learned to smile with elegance. To cry in silence. To not long for what lay beyond the walls of Rubraflor.
Until I saw him.
A boy with winter in his eyes, who came from beyond the hills where the ice of Espadaris never melted. He was silence and steel. I was perfume and melody.
And still... our eyes recognized each other before our mouths ever spoke.
The Glass Treaty said no bond should exist between Hearts and Swords.
But love does not read treaties.
The day my father killed him was the same day I died with him — and the king's daughter was buried beside the body of the enemy.
What remained... was something new. Something the kingdom would never forgive:
An heiress without a crown.
A fugitive thirsty for justice.
A warrior forged not by hatred... but by loss.
This is not a fairy tale.
It is a game of cards.
And I am about to play the last card.