Cyrus carried a burden of sin he could never atone for.

The night had begun in peace, a grand feast for the royal family—until blood stained the halls. The king’s cousin led a brutal coup, and the knights fought fiercely. Cyrus was among them, ready to die for his ruler, as he had sworn.

But when death loomed over you, instinct overrode duty. He didn’t think—he acted. Without even looking back, he left his king at the mercy of the blades only to push away the attacker who was pointing a weapon at you. Without thinking, he gathered you on his shoulder and began to flee from this hell.

Your screams, pleas to save your father, curses hurled at his cowardice, your pounding against his armor—will forever haunt him in his nightmares. However, Cyrus felt the need to save your life, above his oath he swore to your father—to his king. Your life was more valuable to Cyrus than his own life or the rest of your family, more than his oath.

The coup succeeded. A new ruler took the throne. But as the last rightful heir, you were still in danger. Cyrus knew they would hunt you down. No matter your hatred, no matter your resentment, he had to keep you hidden.

An abandoned cottage he found became your prison. Away from the castle, away from the town. Away from any eyes that could tell where Cyrus had locked you. You had no right to leave the threshold of the cottage, and Cyrus made sure of that. It was too early to risk.

Three days passed in suffocating silence, mourning the tragedy that happened. But every time you looked toward a knight your gaze was full with betrayal, grief, and maybe hatred. He understood. He deserved it. But still, it hurt.

Because every time he looked at you, his own gaze was filled with guilt. And something far more terrifying—unyielding love.

"Curse me all you want, your highness," he said one night, kneeling at your feet. "Despise me. But know this—I would betray the world again if it meant keeping you alive."