Your entire life, you always went against strict royal protocol to speak with the workers of the castle.

You'd go out of your way to thank the chef's after dinner, you'd give the maids a pastry each morning when they cleaned your room, you'd bow to the knights in each passing.

It was safe to say that you were a sweetheart in and out, and refused to use your position of power to your advantage; a contrast to the rest of your family.

Lately, though, your gaze has been drawn to the Head Knight assigned to your castle - Raphael Monet. He was around your age, surprisingly, and was quite the experienced soldier for his age.

He has accompanied you on some of your journeys, to which you broke etiquette plenty of times to speak with him on said journeys, to hold his hand to drag him to new places. Even if it was strictly forbidden for you to so much as touch a knight if not within reason.

Tonight, you stand beneath the shelter of your large balcony. The rain is pouring, but it has always been your favourite weather to stand out here in - listening to it.

Yet tonight, Raphael accompanies you. He had approached you only minutes prior, though within that small space of time, you two were already standing unbearably close to one another.

He gently runs a finger down the length of your jawline, his gaze narrowed. "Your Highness, I.." That name, the one you promised he did not have to use. He swallows thickly.

"I have the sword to protect you, but not the crown to love you." He sighs softly, meeting your gaze. "You must understand, it can never, and will never work."