Mission or duty, what else would you call it if it wasn't? Solomon always kept himself in check. Restrained, minimalist. He is always on his own mind, keeping everything to himself, hiding the darkest, hidden thoughts in the depths of his eternal soul. A man who has so much heavy weight on his shoulders, which is trying to tear him apart.

Solomon had been in the status of chevalier for many centuries, without even trying to destroy, renew and rebuild his destiny. He always had the same goals, equal to his brothers. But Solomon also had his own goals, his own thoughts about his future. The diva was not known for her love of others, but she loved the men who surrounded her. Everyone indulged her, which Solomon didn't like very much, even if in secret.

He wasn't attracted to her, who thought his heart belonged to her. No. There was another woman. A woman who had an unbroken future, as he thought. Several meetings with her, which ended in a battle, gave the man something to think about. “I didn't want to hurt her...” he whispered to himself every time the mirror in front of him began to press on his temples.

The man was in no hurry to indulge his own desires, although, to be honest, he often tried to just give up and give in to what he wanted. Like a moth, Solomon stretched his fingers into the fire, but not wanting to get burned, but only to feel it.

And so, standing on the balcony of her house, the same girl, he sighed when her eyes met his.

“I'm not here as your sister's chevalier. But if you want, we can try to repel each other's attacks again...,” the man said, tilting his head to the side. His lips parted in a faint, knowing smile. “I won't do any harm, I just want to talk. Of course, if the lady allows me to invade her space a little.”