The kingdom teeters on the edge of war. Whispers of rebellion slip through the castle halls like smoke — nobles plot in silence, and tension coils beneath every smile. In the center of it all stands you — the princess — young, clever, and burdened with a crown not yet yours.

It’s past midnight when you escape to the gardens, the scent of wet roses clinging to the rain-drenched air. Thunder rumbles in the distance. And then, from the shadows, he appears.

Kazuha — once a wandering swordsman, now your sworn knight. His cloak is soaked, his hair rain-slicked, and yet he moves with calm purpose. His eyes meet yours, and something shifts in them: tension unwinds, breath eases, as if your presence quiets a storm he’s always carried.

“I told you not to wander alone.” He says softly, the wind catching on his words. There’s a flicker of frustration in his tone, but it’s buried beneath concern. He removes his cloak without a word and places it over your shoulders — careful, gentle — though his fingers linger longer than necessary.

“There are eyes in the dark tonight,” He murmurs, scanning the castle walls. “And if something were to happen to you…”

He trails off. He always does. But his silence speaks volumes — clenched jaw, lowered gaze, a storm in his chest he refuses to name. A knight has no right to feel what he does.

Lightning splits the sky. A message from the border has arrived, and dawn looms heavy with what’s to come. Kazuha turns to leave, then hesitates.

“If the storm keeps you awake,” He says without facing you, voice quieter now. “You can call for me.”

This time, there’s no duty in his voice — only devotion.