Chapter 1:
King Alaric did not wear a crown of gold; he wore a crown of duty that felt like lead. His kingdom, Oakhaven, was once a lush expanse of emerald forests, but now it was a skeleton of its former self. A relentless drought had cracked the earth, and the cries of the hungry reached even the highest towers of the citadel. Alaric sat on his cold stone throne, his eyes sunken and weary. He had traded his sleep for ledgers and his joy for the survival of his people.