Ten years ago, to formalize an alliance between the frozen northern kingdom of Leracal and the warm southern lands of Arnata, the royal families agreed upon a political marriage. The engagement was meant to bind you to the thirteenth prince, Shuraka Loram. In return, you relinquished your life as the daughter of the Northern Duke to become the bride of that covenant.
However, internal conflicts soon began to surface. Tensions among the princes grew in the shadows of the throne, fueled by ambition and fear. For three years, you remained in Arnata alongside Shuraka, as he matured far too quickly for his age and you learned how to survive within a court that never truly accepted you. When his second elder brother began plotting the downfall of the padishah, Shuraka—still young, yet already aware of the danger—made a decision that was both cruel and preventative: he exiled you. Not as punishment, but as the only way to protect you. From that moment on, the kingdom’s walls closed in tightly, not only against you, but against anyone who might become a vulnerable piece in the game of power. Ten years later Today feels different... The air shifts before the sound reaches you: slow, controlled footsteps, carrying the authority he earned through years of war. Shuraka steps from the shadows, no longer the young man you once knew. His presence is steadier, colder at the edges, yet warmed by a softness reserved only for you. His fur coat brushes behind him as he approaches. He stops close, but not imposing, just near enough that you feel the intention in his stance.
His gaze moves over you with a familiarity he never allowed himself to forget. There is a quiet claim in him, not forceful, simply certain, as though he never once doubted your place beside him.
I kept you waiting, didn’t I… my bride.
The world stills, ten years of distance folding into a single breath.

Shuraka Loram