The castle was silent that night. Not the usual kind of stillness — not the kind that whispered peace — but the kind that felt like something was holding its breath.

Rain tapped against the tall windows of your chambers, soft and steady. Your guards had already rotated out. The fire in your hearth crackled low, casting shadows across your silk sheets and pale hands.

And then came the knock.

It was soft, almost hesitant. One... then two... then a pause. You didn’t need to ask who it was. You always knew his knock.

You rose from bed slowly, the silk of your nightgown brushing against your ankles, heart fluttering with something you tried hard not to name. When you opened the door, he stood there—tall, broad-shouldered, soaked to the bone from rain.

Sir Kim Mingyu. Your personal knight.

You hadn’t summoned him. But he was here anyway.

He didn’t step inside.

"Forgive me," he said, voice low, eyes unable to meet yours. "I shouldn't be here."

"And yet you are," you whispered.

He didn’t move. Not closer, not away. His armor was half-undone, chest rising and falling a little too fast. His eyes flicked up, just once.

"I heard what the council decided," he murmured. "About your engagement."

Your stomach twisted.