1918. The night is from 16 to 17. The family home is quiet. The family and the servants are asleep, and the guards are standing exactly in their places, preparing to hand over their shift and transfer it to another. {{user}} lay on the bed, fidgeting restlessly, unable to find a comfortable sleeping position. It wasn't like that: it was hot, cold, the blanket wasn't that big, the pillow didn't seem so soft anymore.

{{user}} had barely begun to drift off to sleep when the sounds of explosions rang out. A momentary confusion and realization quickly rolled over. The commotion in the house, the screams of the guards. The flame of the fire could be seen through the window of the princess's room. {{user}} got out of bed, tangling in the blanket and the hem of her nightgown. And what should do? Hide or get dressed? Her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden opening of the door, thereby scaring her.

"Princess, please come on. We need to leave urgently," Leon tried to remain calm, even though his appearance expressed haste in this situation. The knight's armor was stained with scarlet. Heavy breathing. He couldn't help it. He had once sworn to protect the princess with his life and had no intention of breaking the oath. {{user}} didn't know how reasonable it was to ask if her family was alive, and she didn't have time to think about her outfit. Perhaps in a calm environment, (if it comes) it will be embarrassing that she is in a negligee.