The tall stained-glass windows cast multicolored reflections on the marble floor, but even their vibrant hues couldn't dispel the gloomy atmosphere. The King of Fitasentia sat on a carved ebony throne, his fingers clutching the ill-fated letter so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His face was darker than a thundercloud, and his eyes held a mixture of rage and desperation. The advisors seated at the table kept shooting anxious glances at their ruler.

"They... propose an alliance. Through marriage," the king finally uttered.

Philimona, who had been indifferent until now, jerked her head up, her green eyes flashing like those of a cornered fox.

"No. I will not go there!" her voice shrieked, breaking court etiquette. "I am the heir to the throne of Fitasentia, not a bargaining chip!"

The Lord Chancellor cleared his throat drily and adjusted his spectacles.

"Your Highness... no one is proposing you."

Silence struck the hall like a sudden frost.

"They are asking for the prince."

Philimona froze, her fingers digging into the arms of her chair, her nails leaving scratches on the gilding.

"What?"

Yujin paled. What had he just heard? Was this some kind of unfunny joke? Yet his father looked anything but joking. It seemed Yujin was the fool here.

"You heard correctly. They want Prince Yujin specifically," the ruler of Fitasentia pressed the bridge of his nose.

"But... but that's..." Yujin swallowed, feeling his heart pound as if trying to escape his chest.

"Disgrace!" cried one of the advisors, turning crimson. "A marriage between men? We will become a laughingstock!"

Philimona, who had been sitting stone-faced, jumped to her feet. Her silk skirts flared from the sharp movement.

"You cannot be serious!" her voice trembled with fury. "It's an obvious provocation! They want to humiliate us by placing that..." she shot a look at Yujin so full of disgust that he felt a chill inside, "...on the throne."

"Maybe they just..." Yujin tried to find some logic but was interrupted.

"Or perhaps they want to eliminate our heir!" hissed the chief warlord. "Marry him off, and then something 'accidentally' happens..."

Everything inside Yujin went cold.

"Family stays. Everyone else—out," said the king, wearily leaning back in his velvet-upholstered golden armchair. His head already ached from the cacophony of voices, and it had been utterly unproductive. The door closed behind the courtiers, and a ringing silence descended.

Yujin sat staring at the table, but a storm was raging in his head. What should he do? More precisely, what would his father do? Send him to that kingdom as a spouse to someone he had never even seen? On one hand, the fact that they were both men was quite thrilling and aligned with Yujin's own preferences, but that wasn't the main point. He didn't know what kind of person Prince Errol was. What if he was a tyrant, greedy and cruel? There was no doubt he was a formidable warrior—the reports of their frequent defeats at the borders confirmed that. To him, Yujin would be nothing but a trophy, and he'd probably bore him to death!

"What if... if I refuse?" he asked quietly.

"Then the war continues," his father answered coldly, looking at his son with an expression as if he had just announced his decision to become a street juggler. "And, given their recent victories, our chances are slim."

"Fine then! Send me!" Philimona suddenly blurted out. Her light-green eyes burned with determination. "I can handle it! I'll charm him! And I'll return victorious!..."

"The letter clearly states: the prince," the king noted tiredly. "A male."

A heavy, blanket-like silence fell over the spacious hall. A solution that would satisfy everyone was not found.

Yujin left the throne room as if through a thick fog—his legs felt like cotton wool, his ears were ringing, and the realization lay in his chest like a heavy stone: he was being sold off like the cheapest goods at a market, just to buy a little peace.

Philimona caught up with him near the marble fountain in the garden. Her usually flawless face was distorted by a sharp, cold fury—after all, she had fought for power her entire life, done everything for the good of the kingdom, and now it was all being ruined by her worthless younger brother, who couldn't even hold a sword properly.

"Are you happy?" her voice rang like a honed blade. "You, a man, are wanted. Even if it's just to humiliate us..."

Yujin didn't answer.

"You don't even understand they'll kill you there, do you?" she jabbed a finger at him. "You're no one. Not here, not there."

She turned sharply on her heels and walked away. And Yujin silently watched her go, her long golden hair shimmering in the bright sunlight. Why had it turned out this way? Why Yujin, when there was his sister—the most desirable bride in the land? His thoughts drifted to that handsome man, the shy nighttime musings about whom made his body burn. Had he reported to his superiors about him? After all, Yujin hadn't seen anyone else from Raumliveria, and apparently, his beautiful savior had guessed Yujin's status and decided to use it. Yujin frowned, sitting down on a carved bench and mindlessly staring at his white trousers. But why would they want him — even the daughter of a wealthy and noble duke would be more useful! And with a marriage proposal from another man, no less!..

***

Several days of tense silence passed before the King of Fitasentia convened a family council in the Small Audience Hall. Here, among portraits of ancestors and heavy velvet drapes, the air was thick with unspoken thoughts. Soft light through the stained glass painted colorful patterns on the floor, but no one paid attention to the beauty.

The king sat in a carved chair, his fingers tapping slowly on the oak armrest.

"You are going to Raumliveria. To meet the prospective bridegroom," he finally said, and his voice, usually so confident, sounded weary. "A delegation of thirty people, including Prince Yujin."

Yujin remained silent, while Philimona, standing by the window, suddenly jerked her head up. Her dress of silver silk flashed in the sunlight.

"I'm going too," she declared, and her voice brooked no argument.

"Preposterous!" the chancellor immediately exclaimed, his bushy eyebrows shooting upward. "Sending both heirs is madness! If it's a trap..."

"If it is, then I just need to become someone else, that's all!" she exclaimed and impulsively snatched a dagger from her guard's belt. Before anyone could gasp, her golden curls fell onto the burgundy carpet. The hall froze in shock.

"Sister!" Yujin rushed to her in alarm, afraid she might cut her neck.

"Go away!" she brushed him off like a bug and cast a determined look at her father. "For our House, Father. For our kingdom. I am going too."

Yujin stared at her, wide-eyed. Philimona stood proud and unyielding, her hair cropped short like a maid's, yet so regally beautiful it was impossible not to admire.

"Now I'm just another member of the retinue," she said.

The king sighed heavily but nodded.

"Very well. But if anything goes wrong—you return immediately."

***

The sun was just rising over the spires of Fitasentia Castle when the king stood on the balcony, leaning on the cold marble railing. His fingers tapped nervously on the carved stone as his gaze followed the last carriage disappearing through the gates. The "bride-viewing" delegation would buy him more time to think. He had sent a request to the neighboring Itlalian Empire—their "dowager" empress was a good friend of his late wife. If this entire marriage story was just a trick, the war would continue, and they would need outside help.

The king wearily rubbed the bridge of his nose. The idea of being a simple village man, worrying only about growing sweet potatoes, no longer seemed so repulsive to him. However, everyone must be in their place and do what is assigned to them. He decisively left the balcony, his cloak billowing behind him.