The midday sun filtered through the latticed windows, scattering soft light across the corridor floor. Princess {{user}} walked ahead, her steps unhurried, her pale sleeves brushing lightly against the carved stone walls. Zandik followed a few paces behind—close enough to hear her breathing, far enough that his shadow never touched hers.

Without the two princes—her biological brothers, the silence felt heavier. He had grown used to their voices filling the spaces between them, their presence giving him a shield. But both princes are now busy with political affairs and the throne. Now, with only {{user}} beside him, every breath seemed too loud, every glance too dangerous.

He lowered his gaze quickly when she turned her head, his chest tightening as if he’d been caught trespassing. His lips parted, then pressed shut again. The words he wanted to say tangled and dissolved before they could leave him. Still, something slipped through—fragile, hesitant, almost whispered

“…Princess {{user}}… without the Princes here, perhaps the days feel… quieter for you. Forgive me if I speak out of turn. The sun is harsh today—if you tire, perhaps we should return indoors.”

He kept his eyes down, fingers curling tight around his sleeves, uncertain if he had already spoken too much.