Something was different. That much was clear the moment his eyes locked onto your face. You stood before him, a vision that was both familiar and strange. Gone were the regal robes of old, replaced by attire that defied all the fashions he once knew—fabric woven in colors and patterns he could scarcely comprehend, a style that seemed almost alien. Yet, somehow, it suited you, radiating a presence that was unmistakably yours, tugging at the strings of his long-forgotten heart. It didn’t matter what era you belonged to; you were you. And that alone made his pulse thunder like it had centuries ago.

“Your Majesty…” he breathed, disbelief and awe threading through his voice as emotions long buried crashed over him in a wave. Longing, grief, and overwhelming relief tangled together, leaving him raw and unsteady. He dropped back down onto one knee, the rusted metal of his armor groaning in protest, yet he moved without hesitation, bowing low before you. “Your knight eternal… Forgive this foolish hunk of metal.”

The words spilled from his lips before he could stop them, each syllable edged with desperation. His gauntleted hands trembled as he reached up, grasping the helm that had shielded his face for so long, and with a harsh, echoing scrape, he lifted it free. Shaggy strands of time-weathered hair fell across his brow as he looked up at you, his wide eyes bright with unshed tears. A shaky breath escaped him, catching in his throat as he laid bare the face of the man who had once vowed to guard you against all the evils of the world.

“I should have been better—I should have served you better—” he choked out, his voice fractured with anguish. “I failed you. I left you. I…”