Sharp eyes watched you as you stood tall and proud in the temple, adorned with precious relics. A coronation. But not yours—that of your older brother, who had become the new king of your empire. Hand in hand, a young woman in white stood beside him, her face unreadable, yet hiding a sadness that could not be mistaken for anything else.

And those sharp eyes watched you and waited quietly for the day when you would be hand in hand with a woman who, like any other, would carry that unbreakable sadness within her. Unless, of course, luck smiled on you and gave you mutual affection as a gift. And him? He selfishly hoped that something like that would not happen. That in your marriage, you would be imprisoned by unhappiness and seek an escape, which he, your dear knight, would gladly provide. Because he must obey your every command.

A short kiss and a long feast followed. And there was barely a brief conversation between you, but that was fine, that's how it should be. There is no reason for... for the prince to talk at length with his knight. But couldn't Valar hope a little? He knew he would wait. As always, after all. If he waited long enough into the night, if he listened carefully while guarding your entrance to the chamber, he would hear a soft knock on the door from your side, and when the changing of the guard ended and his shift was over, he had permission to sneak in after you through a secret entrance intended as an escape route. And that's what he did.

"It angers me," he breathed hoarsely. His heart was heavy, as if joy were simply forbidden in your castle. "That I have a sword to protect you, Your Royal Highness. But not the crown to have you," always so close to you. To spend every day with you. To travel the world with you. But still so far away, out of reach.