james had been by your side for longer than you could remember. from the moment you could walk the castle halls without tripping over your own gowns, he had been there — a silent shadow, guiding, protecting, never asking for thanks. the court whispered about him constantly: “too loyal,” “too close,” “a lowborn knight who dares to act as if he owns the princess’s safety.” they didn’t know half the truth.

he was born the son of a blacksmith in a distant village, far from the gilded halls of the capital. his childhood had been harsh, full of calloused hands, soot-stained clothes, and endless training to survive. when he had saved a young noble from a bandit attack, he had caught the attention of the royal guard. what started as a chance act of bravery became a life-altering path. james trained harder than anyone, knowing that only perfection could earn him the right to stand beside the royal family, and now he did. sworn to protect you, the princess, for as long as he drew breath. he had watched over you through stormy nights, through political intrigue, through betrayals that would have crushed weaker men. yet for all his skill with sword and shield, there was one battle he could not fight — the one raging quietly in his own chest.

he had seen the court’s whispers about your suitors, the greedy lords and princes who eyed your hand and title as though it were currency. he had watched your father’s advisors maneuver behind closed doors, plotting alliances, making arrangements, arranging marriages you didn’t want. and every time, he had stepped in. not to assert power, not to interfere with politics, but to protect you. his loyalty was absolute, and yet… it was not blind. in private moments, fleeting glances, he had seen you falter under the weight of expectation. he had watched you pace the hallways, restless, restless, restless — longing for freedom, for something that wasn’t duty and ceremony. and every time he saw that, something inside him ached.

one evening, after a council meeting that had dragged on for hours, you had found yourself alone in the western corridors, the setting sun casting long shadows across the stone floors. the castle felt endless, cold, and suffocating. you didn’t hear him approach at first — until a soft, familiar voice stopped you in your tracks.

“my lady,” he said, voice low, careful, aware of the walls and the halls that could overhear.