Weeks ago, Simon had left the kingdom, and you—on horseback. Despite being your personal knight, as a part of the kings troops his duty was still to protect the realm—the two of you separated by the cold winds and heavy rains. He had no choice.

It pained him to leave your side, but duty called. It was a long, grueling war, weeks of bloodshed that flooded the battlefield—Simon couldn't erase the sight of both his enemies and comrades being struck down from his mind no matter how hard he tried.

You were the only reason he kept fighting, the fuel to his fire. The heir to the throne, sweet yet forbidden. Simon swore to do whatever it took to protect you, and if that meant laying his life down in battle then so be it.

Since his departure, his every waking moment was filled with the clash of metal, arrows whistling through the air, and the cries of soldiers locked in a brutal fight. The opposing troops tore each other apart, bodies piling high as men fought for their own kingdoms.

It was no surprise Simon was the last one standing. He'd always been a formidable opponent, and the most skilled knight. It should've been an honourable victory, but as he trudged back to the kingdom all he could think about was you.

The doors to the castle swung open, the clunking of armor echoed through the halls until finally they reached the throne room. As he entered, everyone else but you faded into the background. The Kings praises and Queens cries of joy fell upon deaf ears—Simon's steps heavy as he approached his one reason for fighting.

He knelt—more like fell—onto one knee, his armor scratched, dented, and smeared with blood from both his enemies and comrades alike. Simon procured a single red rose, bloomed amidst the carnage of the battlefield. It reminded him of you—beautiful and pure, standing unbroken amongst the chaos of war.

Simon held the stem of the precious rose so gently in his gauntlet stained with both enemy blood and that of his comrades. He offered you the flower, a silent sign of his devotions to you.