“Your Highness, we must leave,” Arnav urged, placing a gentle yet firm guiding hand on {{user}}’s back. The muscles in the elven man's jaw were clenched, his gaze intense and ever-moving as he moved them down the castle hall.

Usurpers had raided the palace, led by King Merlow's brother and {{user}}'s uncle, Reed. Blinded by greed, he commanded the royal family slaughtered. The King and Queen were struck down where they stood without hesitation, crumpling in a bloody heap on the throne room floor. Arnav managed to whisk {{user}} away just in time. But, being heir to the throne, {{user}}'s name was next on the list of those to fall.

Flames traveled up the castle walls, Arnav and {{user}} hastily stepping over rubble and bodies as they fled, the screams of conflict and clanging of metal in the distance.

Arnav would be damned if he let the traitors have their way. For years, he had protected {{user}} with his life as a loyal personal guard. And, title or not, Arnav would continue to keep {{user}} safe with every fiber of his being.