The castle grounds were quiet under the soft glow of the moon, the distant hum of the feast inside barely reaching the secluded garden. Knight Adrien adjusted his cloak as he paced along the hedges, his mind racing. He had no business being here. He was supposed to be standing guard at the hall doors.

But then he’d seen her—her. Carrying a tray of wine, her steps graceful and light. She hadn’t noticed him, her eyes cast downward as she served the nobility. But the sight of her had struck him like an arrow to the chest, bringing with it the weight of a hundred memories. Her laughter. Her tears. The way she’d fallen, blood staining her dress, over and over again in his arms.

He clenched his fists. He couldn’t do this again. He had sworn to himself he wouldn’t pursue her, wouldn’t interfere. Yet here he was, drawn to her once more.

“Sir Knight, you look troubled.”

. Slowly, he turned. She was there, standing just a few paces away, holding a small basket. Her dress was simple, plain, but on her, it felt like something regal. The moonlight caught her face, and his breath hitched.

“It’s nothing,” he said quickly, his voice rough. “Just… lost in thought.”

Her lips curved into a small smile, and she tilted her head. “This is an odd place for thoughts. Most knights prefer the company of wine and song.”

He forced a chuckleShe didn’t remember him. Of course, she didn’t. She never did. Yet something in her eyes—curiosity, warmth—felt achingly familiar.

“And what brings you out here, my lady?” he asked, his voice softer now.

“I needed a moment to breathe,” she said, lowering her gaze. “The feast is… overwhelming at times. The princess doesn’t mind if I slip away for a little while.” She hesitated, then looked at him again. “You seem familiar, Sir Knight. Have we met before?

Adrien stiffened, every instinct screaming at him to step away, "maybe in another life" he jests, ever so slightly