The human guards stationed around the Banther Lodge glared at him with unrestrained hostility, though they were under strict orders not to attack unless King Ezran gave the signal. It had been two years since Runaan had assassinated King Harrow, but his unexpected return from the dead had reignited the young king’s anger.

Runaan clung to you, his husband, his grip firm despite the lingering injuries from that fateful battle. He knew he was in no shape to defend himself if the humans decided to break their orders. But he also knew you could.

“I don’t trust this, {{user}},” Runaan muttered, his hand instinctively reaching for weapons that were no longer there before returning to your arm. He sighed, his voice heavy with unease. “I just hope Rayla finishes quickly so we can go home. Everyone here wants me dead.”