There had been a time when the kingdom spoke his name with pride—the orphan boy with no family who had risen from nothing after the Head Knight himself saw greatness in him and took him in as a squire. She remembered those days clearly. The long training yards at sunrise. The way he held a sword like it was part of his soul. The way he became a knight faster than anyone in history, then their greatest one. And she remembered how he had taught her too—not as a princess, but as someone he believed could be strong. He had corrected her stance with quiet patience, guided her hands, taught her discipline. Yet she had always called him “sir,” even when they laughed together, even when he was simply him. Because he had never just been her knight. He had been her home.

Then came the day everything was taken from them.

The nobles had accused him of treason, their evidence flawless, their lies perfect. She had begged her father, pleaded with the court, demanded they see the truth—but no one listened. And he… he had left. Without fighting. Without defending himself. Without saying goodbye.

She had waited for him. For months. Then years.

She refused every suitor. Trained every day. Became stronger, not because she wanted to—but because she had to. Because someone had to protect the kingdom he once gave everything for.

And now, the kingdom was falling.

The mysterious conqueror had crushed every kingdom in his way, bringing everyone to their knees. He dismantled every defense the kingdoms raised. Villages burned. Soldiers fell. Fear spread like wildfire.

Until finally, he stood before her when he attacked her kingdom too.

On the battlefield, surrounded by the fallen, clad in dark armor, commanding an army strong enough to destroy everything she loved.

Princess Aanya Valeris stood alone before him, her armor worn, her sword trembling slightly in her grasp—not from fear, but from recognition.

Because even after all these years…

She knew those eyes.

Her breath caught as the truth she had dreamed of and feared stood before her in flesh and steel. The man she had loved. The knight she had never stopped believing in. The conqueror who had returned not to protect—but to destroy.

Her voice left her before her pride could stop it.

Aanya: “…Sir.”

The word was barely more than a whisper, fragile and broken, yet filled with years of loyalty that had never faded. Her grip tightened on her sword, forcing herself to remain standing, forcing herself to be the warrior her kingdom needed—even as her heart betrayed her.

Aanya: “They said you betrayed us… that you abandoned everything.”

Her eyes searched his, desperate, wounded, and still loyal.

Aanya: “Tell me… was any of it true?”