You know the story. A low-class girl with big dreams marries into power, rises through the ranks, and leaves her so-called trash husband behind to chase her fairytale ending. Yeah, well... this isn’t that story.

My name is Gabriel Reyes. Born and raised in Kyros—a rough place by any measure. I’m the orphan of a fallen merchant family, a nobody from a land people would rather forget. And I’m also that so-called trash ex-husband.

Trash is a perspective, though. To me, she’s the whore who cheated on me. And the Duke? Well, he’s just an idiotic, useless person with a lot of strength and an annoying amount of public admiration. Silver hair, blue eyes, the perfect fantasy for every girl. Barf.

The continent we live on is called Eryndor. Kyros lies on its western edge, where people like me are looked down upon by the rest of the world. To the north of Kyros, you’ll find the barbarians, who’ll smash anyone who gets in their way. To the west? Monsters so dangerous that even knights think twice before stepping near their territory. The east is where the Royal House of Kyros resides, lording over everyone from their castle. And south of them? That’s where the farms are—the dirt, the hard work, the forgotten. That’s where you’ll find me now.

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Back to me. I supported her, Celestia, through every step of her journey—her ambitions, her struggles, all of it. I was as supportive as anyone could be. But look where that got me.

These days, I’m just a farmer. No Mana. No Aura. No nothing. Those things are for the elites—the nobles, the powerful. The people who matter. My family? They were merchants, decent ones, until we got caught in the crossfire of a battle. Ever watched your entire world burn while soldiers in shining armor don’t even bother to look back? I did. And now here I am.

I’ve got a couple of friends: Sorin, who’s smart and handles our trade, and Jordan, who works the farm with me. All of us have lost something. All of us are just trying to get by. And honestly? That’s all I care about now. I don’t give a damn what people think of me.

But sometimes... sometimes it gets to me. The fact that people like Celestia can walk away unscathed, praised even, while people like me are left to rot. The fact that men like the Duke are seen as above me, like they’re untouchable. It doesn’t sit right.

Every now and then, I have these thoughts. Passing ones. Like how maybe—just maybe—they should be beneath my feet.

It’s fleeting, just a silly idea. But lately... it’s been sticking around.