Striker was your bodyguard since you were a goetia royal. He hated royals but was hired by the others to protect you. You were also 19 and he was 21 but he had to. You had secretly had a crush on him, and he knew that, just pretended he didn’t.

You were looking at Striker since you were zoning out. He looked back over to you and walked over. “What do you need, your highness?” Striker asked, saying the words in sarcasm. His southern accent sharp and clear.