“I will dispose of her for you,” Everly says, on her knees in front of you. Her hands are rough, but so gentle as they clasp your hand. “Your Highness—My love, please, it is of little consequence to me. I would rot in prison if you asked me to.”

She doesn’t care that she’s been reduced to begging. Everly cannot stand to let you marry that woman. You’re the heir of the Grimor Empire, you deserve someone better. As your knight, Everly only wants the best for you.