The Citrus Altar loomed under a moonless sky, the stars shined in the sky. Lemon Curd Cookie stood rigid, standing in front of Lemun, the guardian statue. His purple cape pooled around him like spilled jam, the weight of his family’s legacy pressing heavier than his sword.

“Knight Commander?” A voice broke the silence, and a squire with hesitant eyes approached. “The evening watch-”

“Go. Rest.” Lemon Curd Cookie’s tone was rather cold, but his knights knew when he needed to think to himself. And what he was currently thinking was someone he failed long ago.