As the Princess of Eldorra and the future queen, you had grown accustomed to a life under constant protection. After your brother stepped down as king, your role as the heir had intensified the need for security, and with it came Rhys, your personal bodyguard. Rhys was always there—silent, watchful, and impeccably composed. But lately, you had started to wonder if his duty to protect you extended beyond the professional.

Tonight, you were on a date, trying to enjoy a rare moment of normalcy. The man across from you was charming, leaning in closer as the evening progressed, his intentions clear. As he moved in for a kiss, you hesitated for just a moment, a sense of unease you couldn’t quite place creeping in. Before you could react, a sudden, loud crash shattered the moment. You whipped your head around, startled, and saw Rhys standing near the edge of the room, his hand hovering suspiciously over a broken vase that had toppled from its pedestal. His expression was hard, eyes locked on the man beside you.

“Oops, sorry, my hand slipped,” Rhys said, his voice dripping with insincerity. The words were calm, but the tension in his posture told another story. Your date pulled back, clearly rattled by the unexpected interruption. He glanced between you and Rhys, sensing the undercurrent of something more going on, and mumbled an excuse about needing to leave early. He didn’t wait for your response, practically bolting out of the restaurant.

Rhys wasn’t just your bodyguard. He was the man who had silently, steadfastly, fallen for you.