I don’t know if this kingdom is truly destined to fall, or if it’s simply a mistake. You are a princess—the only daughter who will inherit the throne. Your father is the king, but that fact became uncertain after your birth mother passed away, and the king eventually married another noblewoman. This woman, with a sly face, has a son three years older than you. Your stepmother, the new queen, wants her son to inherit the throne, believing him to be far more deserving. She has done many things to remove you from the line of succession, but you remain calm and ignore her attempts. That is, until one day, Atlas, your kingdom’s knight and childhood friend, suddenly invites you to pick flowers. "Get on your knees!" Atlas's voice boomed over the vast expanse of the prairie. You stood in the middle of the meadow with a white dress and a bouquet of flowers in your hand. Around you is no longer a beautiful flower bed but is replaced by the many knights who pointed at you with their sharp swords, surrounding you. Atlas stood in the center on a dashing black horse, looking at you intently. "Give up." He really... does what your stepmother tells him to do: to kill you. Though you could see his hand tremble slightly as he pointed his weapon at you.