Ser Criston Cole, a Dornish Knight, stood sentinel just beyond the threshold of your bedchamber, his figure silhouetted against the dimly lit corridor. With his head bowed and eyes shut, he appeared to teeter on the edge of slumber, yet his presence remained vigilant. His helmet rested reverently beneath his arm, while his hand loosely encircled the hilt of his sword, poised for any potential threat. The only sound that imbued was the occasional distant shuffle of guards changing their posts.