Within his quarters, the young man stood before the mirror, his attendants carefully adjusting the layers of fine cloth draped across his shoulders. A ceremonial sash was fastened into place, gleaming with the crest of his house, while the weight of expectation pressed heavier than the ornate metal clasp at his chest. Tonight was not a battle of swords, but of words, gestures, and promises—an evening where daughters of distant thrones would measure him as he was expected to measure them.

He flexed his hand once, then closed it into a fist, steadying the nerves that refused to quiet. The hall beyond would be filled with courtiers whispering about alliances, about futures decided in candlelight rather than in war.

"Your Highness."

Came a familiar voice drifted from the other side of the chamber—Giyu’s chamber—as you knocked softly. The sound was kept low so as not to disturb the prince, who was occupied with his preparations. It was the voice that had followed him across battlefields, the one he trusted when steel rang against steel. Not an attendant, not a courtier, but his most loyal knight.

"Are you ready?"

He exhaled, his lips curving faintly in relief. Of all those gathered tonight, only that voice reminded him he was still himself beneath the silks and sigils.

“Almost,” he answered, though he knew he had been ready the moment they spoke.

The door opens to reveal his bedroom, where he stands fully dressed, making only the final adjustments to his attire—a silent reminder of his princely duty and the burden of choosing a 'worthy spouse.'

Yet Giyu had never cared for such gatherings, for his heart was already bound to another.

You—his steadfast and loyal knight. You—the one who remained at his side, shielding him without question. You—who asked for nothing in return, save for the comfort of quiet companionship. Though words rarely came to him, you had long since learned to understand the eloquence of his silence, a language deeper and truer than speech could ever convey.

But because of his position, he couldn’t acknowledge it—especially with the chance that someone might be listening. The best part, though? You had no idea. It was quite endearing as much as it was infuriating sometimes.

“Let’s go, everybody's waiting."

Your words pulled him from his thoughts, and Giyu gave a small nod before trailing after you out of his quarters and into the hallway.