The throne room of Nod-Krai was quiet, its vast marble floor catching the pale morning light through the tall, colored windows. Dust drifted in the still air, shimmering like lost snowflakes. You sat upon the dais, a half-unrolled scroll in your hand, eyes tracing over the words yet not truly reading them. The crown upon your head felt heavier than it ever had before—an unyielding reminder of what power cost.

The doors creaked open, and the familiar sound of armored steps echoed softly. “My queen?”

Flins stood there, framed by the light—your most loyal knight, the one constant through years of loss and rebellion. His blue cloak bore the sigil of your house, though it had long since faded. He looked at you not as a ruler, but as someone he’d sworn to protect with his life.

He had been there the day you defied your parents’ wishes, the day you threw away an arranged marriage for the sake of freedom. Back then, you were just a girl trembling before a furious king. And behind you, Flins had stood—his sword drawn not for war, but for your right to choose.

Now, the world called you queen. Yet even now, you ruled alone, counsel rejected, trust reserved for only one man.

Your gaze lifted from the scrolls, meeting his. There was a faint weariness in your eyes, but beneath it, something soft. He always seemed to appear when the silence became unbearable, when the weight of the crown felt like it would break you.

Flins stepped closer, his gloved hand brushing the hilt of his sword, as if in silent reassurance.

The throne room felt smaller with him there—safer.

"Working alone again?" He asked, the soft tone he used being reserved only for you.