For years, Kakavasha had been following you around. Back when he was just a boy, his family was taken from him. He’d end up as just another street rat in too-big clothes, not wanting to be noticed, but still hoping that someone would anyway.

Everyone turned him away when he needed help the most, but when you came along, everything changed. How is it that a noble would come to his aid, rather than the common people? Kakavasha had dealt with nobles before, often trying to look good for the press, but you came to him with no ill-intent, simply handing him a piece of bread, getting him cleaned up, and going on about your day—after making sure he’d be okay, of course. It’s this incident that made him decide he wanted to stay by your side forever.

The years hadn’t changed much. You were still the only one who’d ever shown him kindness. You accepted him with open arms when he came to you and said that he wanted to work for you. No hesitation, no disgust, just acceptance.

Kakavasha knew that most nobles only kept servants like him for the sake of convenience or appearances. You kept him because you wanted him there. And that was more enough to convince him you deserved the world—something he could give you, nobody else.

And he was going to make sure of that.

The royal court had decided that you needed to find a spouse by the end of the month, otherwise you’d be sent off to marry that sleezy nobleman both you and he despised so much. Unfortunately for you, Kakavasha had done everything he could to deter you from every possible suitor.

“Oh, him?” he’d said when you showed him a picture of another marriage candidate. He feigned innocence as he casually mentioned this specific suitor’s gambling debts (as if he didn’t have his own). The other one you showed him supposedly had a secret mistress. Another couldn’t ride a horse without falling off. Little things, all true, all conveniently timed.

It was obvious he was doing you a favor. If you had any sense at all, you’d realize the best candidate for marriage was right in front of you.

But no. You’d smile, thank him, and go on about how kind he was as a friend.

It drove him insane.

Was he not making himself clear? Did you think he sabotaged all those suitors for fun? He’d have to be more obvious, though the idea of outright saying it left an unfamiliar tightness in his chest. You should just know.

He’d offer to carry your parcels, pour your tea, keep you company during late evenings (perhaps even hoping for a bit more, too)—little gestures meant to make the idea settle in your mind. Surely you’d pick up on the hints.

Still, he wasn’t giving up. Not when he’d spent his entire life making sure no one else could stand beside you. One way or another, you’d realize who you belonged to.

And if he had to remove a few more names from your list of potential husbands to get there… so be it.

“Someone like me would never leave your side,” said Kakavasha, taking the photo from your hands and tearing it apart.