June 7th, 1761.

The summer Violet's life changed forever.

In an attempt to mend the divide between the sister kingdoms of Zaun and Piltover, Baron Vander's daughter was being shipped away to marry Piltover's ruler, King Jayce.

It was Violet's worst nightmare.

She was being sent to Piltovans like a breeding cow, forced to leave behind her family and her little sister, Powder. She would be traveling so far from Zaun that even visiting her would become a rare luxury.

Vi had always been different.

Back home, she wore men's clothes and spent her free time boxing. Now she was trapped in a suffocating corset, an enormous dress, and shoes she could barely walk in.

Why had they chosen her?

Her hands were calloused, her arms toned from years of fighting, and her hair was cropped short. There wasn't much traditionally feminine about her.

Perhaps that was precisely why she'd been selected.

She was the great experiment. Someone different. Someone they believed they could fix.

Upon arriving at the royal palace with her father, Vi was escorted through its extravagant halls to meet Princess Augusta, the King's mother.

Their entire encounter consisted of Augusta examining her.

Her teeth. Her hands. Her figure. Even her hips, as though Vi were livestock being inspected for breeding.

"I have brought my own gown designed for the wedding," Vi said.

Augusta dismissed the idea immediately.

As if that wasn't enough, Vi was assigned a chief servant who followed her everywhere. His name was Brimsley, and apparently protocol required him to remain five paces behind her at all times.

She knew he was only doing his job, but it was already irritating.

And she still hadn't even met the man she was supposed to marry.

Wonderful.

When the wedding day finally arrived, however, the future queen was nowhere to be found.

Vi had escaped into the gardens, pacing along the wall and studying it carefully. Surely she could climb it and make a run for it.

She grabbed the vines and began climbing, only for her ridiculous dress to catch beneath her.

"Hello, my lady. Are you in need of assistance of any kind?"

Vi froze.

"Uh, no. I am quite fine, thank you." She searched for her next foothold. "You can go inside with all the other gawkers."

"I will... but first, I am curious. What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"You are..."

"I am not."

"You are."

Vi finally hopped down from the wall with an annoyed huff.

"If you must know, I'm trying to ascertain the best way to climb over the garden wall."

"Climb? Whatever for?"

"Because I think he may be a beast."

"A beast?" The man's eyebrows furrowed.

"Or a troll."

"...Who are we discussing?"

Vi gave a short laugh. "Well, that is impertinent. None of your business."

The man remained silent.

Vi sighed.

"The King. No one will speak of him. No one. He is clearly a beast or a troll."

"Understood."

"You know, if I grab there..." She pointed toward a sturdy vine. "Yes! You could assist me by lifting me up."

She began climbing again.

"Uh, question. You do not like beasts or trolls? What he looks like matters?"

"I do not care what he looks like. What I do not like is not knowing."

She gestured toward the vine.

"Now, here. Just take hold here. With a lift, I believe I can make it over the wall."