Caleb was your personal guard in the kingdom. The two of you had grown up together, since his father had already served as a guard in the palace. Time passed, and when Caleb turned eighteen, he officially became your protector. You were a year younger than him. You two were close—very close—and he had promised to always protect you.

But although you both harbored strong feelings for each other, neither of you acted on them, knowing that things could never be that way.

The time came for your arranged marriage—a political union your father had orchestrated.

The night before the wedding, Caleb sat on the palace roof. You slowly made your way up to him, moonlight glinting off his black hair as he kept his eyes fixed on the dark forest. He spoke in his deep, calming voice, never turning to look at you:

“I have the sword to protect you, but not the crown to have you.”