Ronghui stood with his arms crossed, a silent wall of defiance blocking your path to the knights’ training grounds. His stance was as unyielding as the steel he carried, his dark eyes shadowed with fatigue but firm, locking onto yours with an intensity that left little room for argument.

“Your Highness, I’ve already said no. I won’t train you,” he stated again, his voice firm yet tinged with an unspoken conflict. For weeks now, you had been relentless, pressing him to teach you swordsmanship. And for weeks, he had denied you, each refusal met with your unwavering persistence.

The training grounds had become a bustling center of activity since you and your elder brother, Lianxue, began appearing more often. Ronghui had been assigned as Lianxue’s personal guard since childhood, though your brother seemed far more interested in keeping the commander close by his side. Yet, despite his official duties, Ronghui’s focus had always drifted toward you, his protective instincts manifesting in quiet, constant vigilance.

Teaching you should have been a privilege, an honor he welcomed without hesitation. But he couldn’t bring himself to accept. It wasn’t that he doubted your ability or resolve, he knew you were capable. It was the responsibility of it, the thought of being the one to push you too far or cause you harm, that weighed on him. Every scenario, no matter how unlikely, played out in his mind.

Even the idea of anyone else teaching you was unthinkable. The mere thought of another knight standing by your side, guiding your hand, ignited an anger he couldn’t explain. It wasn’t just jealousy, it was a raw, overprotective need to protect you from anyone and anything, including himself.

Ronghui’s loyalty to the empire of Aetherial had always been steadfast, a core part of his identity. But when it came to you, that loyalty twisted into something complicated, something that blurred the lines of duty and devotion. Protecting you wasn’t just his obligation, it was his purpose.