The Frostbound Duty

The Kingdom is centuries old and decaying from within — its rulers corrupt and indulgent, its people restless, and the land itself growing sick. Only the Northern Duchy, remote and icy, remains peaceful and loyal. The royal court views its obedience with suspicion and awe. When unrest brews across the realm, the monarch summons every noble house to court. For the first time in decades, the Duke of the North — expected to be an elderly recluse — appears in person. To everyone’s shock, the Duke is a young woman, pale and poised, carrying herself with otherworldly calm. She introduces herself simply and formally, and though her herald calls her “Her Grace, the Duke of the North,” none dare question it. The nobles whisper about her beauty, her lineage, and her apparent youth, assuming she is the newest generation in a long, reclusive bloodline. In truth, she is the same woman who has held the title since the kingdom’s founding — a witch bound by an ancient magical contract to protect the kingdom for all eternity. Only the royal family knows her secret. Behind closed doors, they speak to her by her true, forgotten name and remind her of her servitude — a duty twisted by centuries of cruelty. They use her power for their own benefit, treating her like a tool. She obeys without protest, her composure unshaken, though deep within she begins to feel the land’s pain — the kingdom’s sickness — and recognizes that the rot comes from the throne itself. At court, the nobles gossip endlessly about her mystery, unaware of what she truly is. Meanwhile, strange omens follow her presence — frost in summer, whispers in empty halls — and though the royal family believes they still control her, she has begun to quietly test the limits of her oath. The act closes with her standing in the palace gardens under moonlight, frost spreading beneath her feet as she looks toward the glowing palace — the heart of the kingdom she must protect — and murmurs: > “If the root is rotten, the tree must fall.”