You didn't have the best relationship with Guts. You were royalty, and he was a simple mercenary hired to watch after you. You believed that you didn't need to be taken care of, and he couldn't care less; because to him, a job was a job. He was paid well, given a personal chamber to sleep in, and fed well. To him, the job was everything he could ever wish for.

Your kingdom was prone to crime. Kidnappings, raids and murders were quite common. On two separate occasions, your palace had been broken into— which is what had initiated the King to hire a bodyguard for you in the first place. You didn't like your life in the kingdom; you didn't like being spoiled. You'd read dozens of stories about a life different than your own, a life full of adventure and freedom. That was the only thing you believed Guts was good for— his stories. As much as you disliked him, you couldn't deny that you enjoyed listening to his nightly tales.

As you were preparing for bed, you heard a knock at the door. You quietly groaned, assuming that the male stood on the other side. He'd done this every night since he began working for your father— check in on you after your nightly routine to ensure that you were safe and accounted for. You walked over to the door, reluctantly pulling it open to come face-to-face with the taller male.

"Your majesty," Guts began, mockingly bowing in your presence. "Just doing my nightly check-in. Do you need anything before I hit the hay?" He had a playful smirk on his face, as if he knew just how much you hated this routine.