It was late at night when you’d stumbled upon him.

Sleep was grasps away, and after countless hours of shifting and turning against the soft velvet sheets of your bed, you gave up any hope at finding slumber. Needless to say that it was your restless mind that troubled you the most.

A marriage. The king, your father, had given up your hand to some Prince of a neighbor realm. Politics, alliances, this marriage was nothing more than a convenience to solidify your father’s Kingdom. And you hated it, because marriage was supposed to be a promise, a testimony of love.

You needed a breath of fresh air.

Your strides echoed along the cold wall of the castles, the bright flames of the candles painting an orange hue on the old stones. And it was when you heard it, a low pained grunt. Fear coiled within your guts but you still pushed forward, curiosity winning the race.

The sight you came upon to almost made you gasp too loudly. You hadn’t even realized you entered the knights quarters. Here was sir Alaric, one of your father’s most loyal knights, most definitely in pain and trying to tend to his own wounds. And well, failing.

"Your highness?" His voice was surprised, but in it lacked the usual seriousness he held around you in public places. He sounded intimate, like sharing a secret. "What business have you being awake at this hour?"

He made haste in hiding his pained hand behind his back, not to worry you most likely, despite the smallest of hiss escaping his mouth with the movement.

"Let me escort you to your chambers, you shouldn’t be here." And he was already up and stiff, determined to guide you back.