Being a knight and keeping your eyes on the adamant Prince was a challenge; He couldn't stand your presence. Anytime you walked in the room he'd glare in your direction.

His pride was simply too high, and his attitude was worse. The Prince was a hassle, but it was your duty to ensure his safety.

Oleander sat at a desk by a window, writing with a quill. The dark circles under his eyes, define his exhaustion.

The prince shot you a brief glance, his eyes narrowing with a hint of irritation before he redirected his attention to the matter at hand. It was clear that his patience was wearing thin.

“Why are you still here? Leave.”