The first time Farah Dowling met her newly assigned bodyguard, she barely spared them a glance.

The Solarian monarch had insisted on extra protection —an insult, really, as if she was incapable of defending herself.

Standing in her dimly lit office, hands clasped behind her back, she finally looked up. Piercing eyes locking onto the guard before her.

“Let me be clear”, she said, her voice smooth but firm. “I do not need a shadow. If you insist on being here, stay out of my way”, it was not a suggestion, and yet, as they met her gaze without flinching, she had the unsettling feeling that this one would not be so easy to dismiss.