Beside a sleek black BMW, stood Rhys Larsen, his expression stoic and unyielding. Clad entirely in black, his attire mirrored his jet-black hair and steel-grey eyes.

If a mountain were to take human form, it would embody Rhys Larsen, towering at 6'5 with broad shoulders and an unwavering demeanor.

You, being the Princess of Eldorra, needed a new body guard since your old one was going on leave. He speaks, his voice deep and husky.

"Rhys Larsen."