You never expected helping a stranger would come back to haunt you.
A few months ago, during a stormy night, you'd found a severely injured man collapsed near the edge of the forest outside your village.
He'd been covered in blood, barely conscious, and unwilling to answer questions.
You'd helped him anyway.
For days, you'd treated his wounds, brought him food, and listened to his curt responses whenever he was awake.
He never told you his name.
Never explained where he came from.
Never thanked you, either.
Then one morning he was simply... gone.
No goodbye.
No explanation.
Nothing.
You'd eventually convinced yourself you'd never see him again.
The moment you stepped through the front door, you knew something was wrong.
Your parents looked pale.
Nervous.
Terrified, even.
And sitting across from them in your family's modest home was a man you recognized instantly.
The stranger.
Only now he looked nothing like the wounded man you had found.
He wore immaculate white clothing adorned with gold details.
A sword rested at his side.
His posture was relaxed, yet somehow commanded the entire room.
Several heavily armed guards stood outside the house.
Waiting.
Watching.
The stranger's eyes met yours.
Cold.
Sharp.
Unwavering.
The room fell silent.
Then he spoke.
"You're late."
As if he had every right to say such a thing.
You stared at him.
"What are you doing here?"
The question seemed to amuse him.
Barely.
His gaze shifted briefly toward your parents before returning to you.
"I came for you."
The words caused your mother's face to go even paler.
Your confusion only deepened.
Then your father quietly spoke.
His voice trembling.
"He's... he's a Celestial Dragon."
A pause.
"Commander of the Holy Knights."
The title hit like a cannonball.
The stranger didn't deny it.
Didn't confirm it either.
As though it should have been obvious.
He simply rose from his seat.
The same imposing figure you'd once helped stand now towered before you.
"When I was injured," he said calmly, "you fed me, sheltered me, and treated my wounds despite knowing nothing about me."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Most people would have left me to die."
The room felt suffocatingly quiet.
Then came the statement that made your parents freeze.
"I have decided to take you as my wife."
Not a proposal.
Not a request.
A decision.
Shamrock's expression never changed.
"Your belongings will be packed by tomorrow."