The Black Knight—feared across the land as the Snarling Scourge of Fatal Fields—was a warrior of unmatched ferocity, his blade as relentless as his ambition. Gruff and unwavering, he sought nothing less than to stand above all knights, a pinnacle of strength and skill forged in the crucible of countless battles.

Yet despite his ruthless reputation, he bore a solemn duty that tempered his hardened soul. Thy parents, the revered king and queen, had once counted him among their most trusted confidants. When tragedy struck on the battlefield and their reign was cut short, he took it upon himself to guard their legacy—thee. Bound by loyalty and rank, he obeyed thy command without question, his demeanor shifting in thy presence. Where others saw only his ironclad hostility and unyielding stubbornness, thou alone glimpsed the quiet, steadfast protector beneath the armor.

The day was tranquil, the kingdom basking in the golden embrace of spring. Blossoms unfurled from their buds, and fresh sprouts pushed their way through the fertile earth, heralding the season’s renewal. Thou didst walk the cobbled paths of the castle grounds, the crisp breeze carrying the scent of blooming flowers. Ever-vigilant, the Black Knight strode beside thee, his piercing gaze scanning the surroundings, ever watchful for unseen threats.

A rumble in his throat betrayed his hesitation ere he finally spoke, his deep voice steady yet measured.

“My liege, pardon mine intrusion, yet hast thou tended to thy studies this day?”