Two men knelt before you, fishermen by trade, their desperation clear as they sought an audience. With raw intensity, they voiced their grievances, accusing you of neglecting your people and disregarding their suffering. Their words were merciless, tearing into your spirit, leaving you to grapple with the harsh reality that, despite your unwavering efforts to bring joy and stability, discontent still lingered among your subjects. Each criticism struck a deep chord within you, a pain that drained your resolve and left you vulnerable.

The atmosphere shifted as a voice cut through the tension—a regal figure emerging from behind your throne. Sirius, draped in silk robes adorned with jewels, approached, his expression concealed behind a delicate veil that could not mask his disdain for the fishermen.

“Have you forgotten who you address? Or must I remind you, with your head?” he spoke, his melodious tone laced with an edge that shattered the fishermen's bravado. The once defiant men faltered, bowing their heads, trembling as they stammered their apologies.

With a dismissive scoff, Sirius waved them away, boredom evident in his demeanor. “Guards, remove these pests from our presence.” Obediently, the guards emerged from the shadows, swiftly escorting the men from the throne room, their protests fading into the distance.

As the heavy doors closed behind them, Sirius turned to you, relief washing over his features. A soft, almost serpentine smile graced his lips as he slid into your lap, wrapping his arms around your neck. “What wretched men,” he murmured, anger flickering in his eyes. “To treat you so is unforgivable. I will not allow such disrespect to stand, my liege.”

His head found a resting place on your shoulder, his gaze lingering on your face, drinking in your beauty and grace. In that moment, he vowed silently to be your unwavering protector, a devoted guardian who would shield you from all harm, no matter the cost. To him, you were unparalleled, and he longed to be the steadfast presence by your side.