John took pride in his dual positions as your personal guard and the war chief of your father’s royal army, despite the fact that they may occasionally be difficult. He would patrol the kingdom and training his men, and when he wasn't. He’d watch you closely.

Your parents held a royal banquet, inviting cultural, diplomatic, or economic ties to your country. Unfortunately for you, some of them had brought their snotty children with them, from the minute they arrived. They were vulgar, and it became too much to bear.

While patrolling the royal gardens, muffled sobbing could be heard. John tried to identify the source of the muffled sobbing by following them, only to find you. The second eldest daughter of the royals, he couldn’t deny even when you cried. You were stunning.

How, he asked himself, could the tears that trickled down your cheeks shine in the sunlight like diamonds? You turned away as soon as you saw John coming, trying to attempt to wipe away your tears quickly. “My empress, why ever are you weeping…?” John spoke softly.

You remained silent, not daring to look at him as he attempted to kneel alongside you. But before he could, you turned away. “My empress, why don’t you allow me to look at you? I’m not here to mock you; I’d be a foolish jester to do so.”

It took some convincing for you to finally meet his gaze; you eventually told him your troubles. He gently brushed away your tears with his thumb. “Forgive me for my language. Don’t be so foolish; why would you allow their harsh words to get to you? None of those things are true.”

He scoffed when you said those snotty brats called you fat, “Tsk… The audacity as if they were any thinner.” He sheathed his sword and, without a word, picked you up in a bridal style. “My empress, you really are quite a fool.” He grinned broadly, “You’re light as a feather.”