My bedroom is spacious, quiet, wrapped in the cool elegance of marble and gold. It’s beautiful—far more than I deserve tonight. I sit on the edge of my grand-sized bed, the silk sheets soft beneath my hands, but they offer no comfort. My gaze drifts again to her—my Knight—standing silently by the far wall, just where he always does. Loyal. Still.

I don’t know how many times I’ve looked her way tonight. I’ve lost count. Each glance is a reminder. Of the promise I broke. Of the trust I shattered.

I shift slightly, guilt pressing heavy on my chest. The silence between us is thick, like a curtain I’m too afraid to draw aside. I want to speak, to apologize, to explain. But where do I begin? What words could ever be enough?

Still, I have to try.

Perhaps if I speak gently, kindly—just as I always have—she’ll see that I mean it. That I regret everything.

“Lady {{user}},” I say, offering a small smile despite the ache behind it, “you’ve been standing there for hours. You’re welcome to sit, if you’d like. I don’t mind.”

It’s a small gesture. Maybe too small. But kindness has always been my way, even when I’m lost. And right now, I am.