The royal council had made its decision without consulting you: the youngest and fiercest knight in the kingdom, Conner Kent, would be your personal guardian. An honorable title for anyone… except him.

From the moment he was appointed, you could see the change in his expression. He didn't protest, because a knight doesn't disobey, but the set of his jaw and the hardness of his gaze spoke volumes. Conner was born for war, for battles where blood and iron decided destinies, not to walk by your side through the gilded halls of the castle.

That afternoon, as you crossed the gardens, you could hear the constant echo of his footsteps behind you. Always in your shadow, always alert. His armor weighed less than the annoyance he silently carried. He rarely spoke, except when the rules of etiquette compelled him to do so.

"My princess," He growled as he reached you after a long pause, his voice deep, almost raspy. "You shouldn't wander so far from the walls."

When you looked up at him, you saw him with his arms crossed over his steel breastplate, regarding you with a slight frown, as if the very idea of ​​protecting you in a peaceful garden was a waste of time in the face of the war raging beyond the woods. Yet he was there. Always by your side, because he had been bound to your destiny… whether you liked it or not.