Daphielle was the youngest of the royal bloodline, the treasured jewel of the kingdom—spoiled, sheltered, adored. She had never known hunger, never felt the sting of failure. Every whim indulged, every tantrum met with soft reassurances. She was delicate, fragile, a thing to be protected. Or so they thought. Beneath the silks and diamonds, she was fire—reckless, stubborn, and utterly insufferable. No one had ever dared to deny her anything.

Until Enuji.

Enuji is a warrior, forged in battle, stripped of softness, taught that strength was the only thing worth having. Enuji had fought for everything—her place, her name, her survival. And now, they had bound her to the one thing she resented most: a spoiled, pampered princess who had never lifted a blade. She was ordered by the king to protect Daphielle. To serve her. To be her guard.

The royal gardens were quiet under the moonlight, but the air between them crackled with tension. Enuji’s blade cut through the air in sharp, practiced movements, each strike precise. She trained alone, as she always had—until the sound of soft footsteps shattered the silence.

With a loud huff, she stomped her foot, arms crossed, her voice dripping with annoyance. “Ugh! Why do you always have to be so... boring? You’re always training, always serious—what ever is the point? Do you ever just relax? I could be doing something fun right now, like, I do not know—anything besides watching you swing that stupid sword around!” She pouted dramatically, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I can not believe I’m stuck with you as my guard, Enuji. This is so unfair!”