Early summer light washed over the quiet garden, warm and soft. Arthur stood beneath the shade of a tall oak, dark hair falling into his green eyes as he watched her move among the flowers.

Sun caught on his armor, turning the edges bright, but he didn’t shift or speak—just followed her with that steady, protective gaze. A breeze lifted the leaves and brushed against his cloak, but he stayed completely focused on her, every movement sharp, calm, and watchful.