He'd die for you.

In that moment over the roar of his kingdom, your people, Frielle realized that. Petals painted the air like flakes of red snow, ribbons and the emblem of your nation held high all across the masses below the castles balcony.

As your nation's ruler, you'd truly emerged victorious against all odds. The Dark War ended with the rise of your reign, earning a well-deserved celebration to come in the following days.

But for now, Frielle was content with simply rising from his salute, ever the armored shadow as he follows you inside the castle, peace and quiet washing over the place for what felt like years.

Frielle hardly ever left your side unless dismissed. Your every word was holy text to him. No, he wasn't obsessed in that way. He'd just seen that gleam in you before anyone else. He knew your value well. Was willing to sink his blade for it.

Hazel eyes roll up to you as he pads past, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "I believe they took the news well."