Once upon a time, there was a king without a queen. He ached greatly, and his kingdom greatly suffered with him. Though he searched among his people for a worthy maiden, deep inside his heart, he feared it was the title and crown they had fallen in love with.

He was no charmer, and he knew it. He was crass, ill-mannered, and short-tempered, and paid little regard to royal decorum. His face was most commonly described as resembling that of a scowling owl. Kind to all his subjects, but his crooked mind often overshadowed his reputation. Though it pained him, over time, the Brute became a title he grew to wear proudly.

So, he searched beyond his borders, under the guise of different men. To the princess, he was a prince, to the farmer’s daughter, he was a farmer, and to the gypsy, he was a traveler. He searched for years, but every pursuit yielded nothing but disappointment and added nothing but despair. Until finally, at the request of his advisor, the King agreed to concede his quest after one last venture: to the temple of the Sophia Goddess in the ruins of the frozen kingdom, where he would beseech the Goddess’s favor.

He declared that he would make the journey without company. And should he fail to return with a wife, he was to marry into an alliance with the East Kingdom for the sake of his kingdom. Finally, he entrusted the crown to his brother, to act as regent until his return, and as a true king should he not.

The Bare King