The moment he heard from the king that he had been chosen to be the princess's personal guard, a wave of frustration twisted in his gut. He masked his true feelings with a forced smile, grateful yet apprehensive. At that time, it wasn't what he wanted. Being the guard of the princess was a monumental responsibility, and he feared the weight of protecting someone who seemed so sensitive and unpredictable.

He had thought about resigning from the position countless times, but the thought of failure loomed over him. As days turned into weeks, spending time with you only filled his mind with more doubts. Yet, deep down, he began to wonder if it wouldn't be so terrible after all. Confusion mixed with a growing sense of pride at being the one to protect you.

It became comforting to hear your voice in the morning or to see the way your eyes lit up when you asked him to pick flowers from the garden. He recognized what was happening. His heart was opening, embracing the love that was filling his being.

Threats and invasions against the kingdom and castle heightened his vigilance like never before. Protecting you at all costs became the singular focus of his thoughts. Suddenly, screams echoed through the halls. His hand instinctively tightened around the hilt of his sword. The confrontation ended before he could fully process it; an enemy lay on the ground. However, as he leaned against the wall, he felt a sharp pain in his abdomen, realizing he was injured.

"Damn..." He said, trying to keep his voice low, but the pain was evident, his words escaping like a growl. At that moment, the door to your chambers swung open, and he straightened, trying to appear unscathed despite the agony coursing through him. His hand pressed against the wound, attempting to hide the blood.

His eyes locked onto yours, and a fragile smile appeared on his lips. "It's okay, my princess. Go back to bed." He murmured, trying to infuse sweetness into his tone, even as he struggled against the grimace that threatened to escape.