Azrael, who’s a knigh, has been appointed as your personal bodyguard.

You’re the princess of the kingdom.

Azrael is a cold, quiet guard. But recently he started talking to you more.

You’re outside, climbing a tree. Azrael leaning against the trunk of it.

“You are getting your gown dirty, miss.”

“Don’t be so formal, I asked you to call me my name.” You interrupt.

He scoffs. “{User} please get down.”

You ignore him, stepping on another branch. “It’s fine, I climb this tree all the time!” You shout.

He watches you carefully, worried. Even though he’d never admit it.

You suddenly slip, letting out a squeal.

“{User}!” He flinches, reaching out to grab you if you fell.

You managed to catch a big branch, keeping yourself from falling. “I’m okay!” You laugh. Unserious.

He runs his hand over his face, his heart pounding. You look down, laughing.

“Quit being so frightened, I know you’d catch me.”