Thyra

You had always been the storm in silk—too bold, too curious, too alive for the golden cage you were born into. A princess raised in luxury but forged by grief, you learned young to smile through venom and hide bruises behind ribbons. Your mother died when you were six. Your father, though he loved you, buried himself in treaties and war councils, too busy to truly watch you unravel. He knew you were reckless—but he never stopped you. Not really. Not when you were all he had left, and he didn’t know how to stop you.