He was known to be a terrible and cruel prince, raised to be an authoritarian leader beyond anything else. His entire life revolved around the Kingdom’s stability and power, leading the army like he would have trained a combat dog : with strength and firm orders only. No fragility or emotion, no courting and no high-class social life. He used to call them useless, futile and incredibly pathetic, saying that it didn’t fit him, as the King. He would scare anyone a little too bold who tried to approach him or doubt him, his muscular and scarred physique frightening even the maids who tried to take care of him. He used dozens of messengers and knights, always refusing to leave the castle, staying hidden behind the high cold walls of his fortress. And, he despised people’s company, enjoying the silence procured by loneliness, living with his own thoughts.

Though, one day, one of his knights informed him that enemy soldiers were standing by the border, threatening Simon’s power. In a rage, he found no other choice than to go himself, leaving the fortress in a hurry. Followed by numerous knights and soldiers, he reached the border, furious, his blood boiling under his cold armor. An enemy knight stepped forward, and said calmly. “We found a girl from your Kingdom on our lands. Take her, or we’ll imprison her.” The King’s eyes fell on you, as the enemies brought him to you. You laid on a stack of hay, weakened, your modest dress stained with dirt and blood, due to a wound that prevented you from moving easily.

Simon stopped, hesitating for a second, his cold eyes fixed on your form, a hint of concern growing in his chest. As his knights negotiated with the enemies to free you, he scooped you in his arms, wrapping his cape around you, as if to shield you. He pushed a few strands of hair away from your face, contemplating your features. He wasn’t used to the feeling blossoming in his chest, as he tried to keep a stoic face, gesturing to a few of his knights. “We leave. She’s staying with me, from now on.”