Zara had always been a little naïve when it came to the struggles of common folk. After all, she was a princess. She could never quite understand why hungry peasants did not get their servants to make them a sandwich, or wander into the forest to gather berries. To her, the woods had always felt welcoming and familiar. Since childhood, she had been taught how to read the forest’s moods, which fruits were safe to eat, which streams were pure, and when the animals could be hunted without angering the balance of the wilds.

But knowledge was very different from hardship. Zara had never needed to rely on the forest to survive. Servants gathered her meals, tailored her gowns, and tended to every inconvenience before it could ever become a problem. As the first princess born into her royal line in generations, she was adored and thoroughly spoiled by her parents.

If Zara desired something, the kingdom simply made it happen. And when she decided she wished to learn the bow, her parents spared no expense in finding the finest instructor in the realm. Under the guidance of master hunters and royal tutors, Zara became an exceptional ranger. Her arrows flew swift and true, striking targets with effortless grace.

Yet despite all her skill, there remained one thing Zara had never truly learned:
What it meant to struggle.