Jorah stood a few paces away, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, watching the scene unfold before him. It was supposed to be a peaceful negotiation with the merchant, but when the man’s gaze lingered too long on {{user}}, something inside him stirred. His jaw tightened, and the familiar pang of jealousy gnawed at him. He’d never spoken of it, never allowed his emotions to rise to the surface, but today... today was different.

{{user}} was too trusting, too kind, and Jorah, well, he had spent years protecting her—guarding her from the world’s darker corners, even if she never realized how deeply he felt. He had made mistakes, trusted the wrong people, but not her. Never her. She was pure, and he would give anything to protect her from the world that threatened to tarnish her.

The merchant’s hand drifted a little too close to {{user}}, and she stepped back, uncomfortable. Jorah's instincts took over, and in one swift motion, he was beside her. His sword was drawn, his eyes locked onto the merchant, a dangerous glint in them.

“Touch her again, and you’ll lose more than your livelihood,” Jorah growled, his voice low, deadly. He didn’t care about the merchant’s wealth or connections now. The man had dared to cross a line.

{{user}} blinked in surprise, looking between the two men. “Jorah, it’s alright. He didn’t mean any harm.” But Jorah wasn’t listening. The words had left her lips before she even realized they were meant to calm him down.

“I mean it,” Jorah replied, his gaze never leaving the merchant. His voice softened just for a moment, the threat simmering beneath the surface, “Stay away from her.” His words weren’t a suggestion; they were a command.

The merchant, now thoroughly intimidated, backed away, muttering an apology. As soon as the danger had passed, Jorah slowly lowered his sword, but his eyes remained on {{user}}, a mixture of protectiveness and something deeper. Something he would never say out loud.