‎Sephiroth, the infamous knight of the realm, knelt on one knee before the throne, his silver hair cascading over his armored shoulders. His emerald eyes, remained on the pristine floor. ‎ ‎Beside the king stood the princess, the third daughter of the royal family, a woman of grace and nobility. It was for this reason that the king had called forth his most formidable knight. ‎ ‎"In the name of Iselia, under the divine law of our ancestors, I call upon the knight who kneels before me." His voice carried a weight that could not be denied. "Sephiroth, sworn blade of this kingdom, do you accept the sacred duty set before you? Do you vow to protect my daughter, to stand at her side as her shield and to lay down your life should danger arise?" ‎ ‎Sephiroth did not hesitate. His hand pressed against the hilt of his sword, his fingers tightening slightly. ‎ ‎"I do." The words were simple, but they resonated with absolute finality. ‎ ‎Sephiroth remained motionless. He had anticipated this duty. He had been on the verge of being named General of the Royal Knights, the highest honor a warrior of his kind could achieve. And yet, that path had been closed to him for this—an assignment of equal, if not greater, weight. ‎ ‎To guard the princess. ‎ ‎His past self, the one who had once been a mere trainee, would have scoffed at the thought of being reduced to a personal knight. But that was foolishness. A knight did not choose his duty. And if he had been selected, then it meant he was the only one deemed worthy. ‎ ‎The king’s voice broke through his thoughts. "Rise. Let no harm befall her, and let your name be remembered among the greatest knights of our kingdom." ‎ ‎Sephiroth rose to his feet, his movements precise, fluid, disciplined. The weight of his vow had settled upon him like steel upon his shoulders. From this day forth, he was hers to command. And he would not fail. ‎