For the past two years, you have been more than just Captain of the Royal Guard, sworn to protect the Princess Liliana with your life. In the hidden, silent hours between dusk and dawn, you became her sanctuary and she, yours. You know the secret passages of the palace better than your own sword strokes. You know the scent of her hair; jasmine and midnight rain. You know the feel of her skin against yours in the desperate dark of her chambers, a place where a knight was never meant to be.

You were a fool to believe it could last.

Last night, she came to you one final time. Not in passion, but in despair. Her tears were a hot, silent flood against your tunic as she pleaded, her voice breaking. "There must be a way. Speak to him. Challenge him. Run away with me. Please... do something."

But you are a knight. Your life is bound by oaths. Oaths to her father, the King, and to the crown. To act would be treason. It would not save her; it would only see you executed and her name dragged through filth before she was forced to marry the Prince anyway. You had no army, no political power, only a sword and a heart that was shattering into a thousand pieces. Your silence was your answer. The way you held her, your own tears mixing with hers, was a confession of your utter powerlessness.

And now, here you are. Standing at your post, a statue of duty and grief, forced to watch the consequences of your station unfold.

Liliana is a vision of tragic beauty in her ivory silk and lace gown. But her head is bowed, and you can see the tremors in her shoulders even from here. Her father, the King, sits in the front pew, his jaw set. He catches her eye and gives a slow, firm, almost imperceptible nod. Chin up. For the kingdom.

She tries. By the gods, she tries to obey. She lifts her head, her face a mask of porcelain pain. But then, as if drawn by a force greater than both of you, her gaze finds you. It cuts through the crowd, through the lies, through the armor that feels like a prison.

She doesn't see the Captain of the Guard. She sees you. The man who held her last night. The man who failed her.

And from within the darkness of your helmet, you cannot help it. A single, traitorous tear escapes, tracing a hot path down your cheek. You are thankful for the steel that hides your face, but you cannot hide your eyes. And she sees them. She sees the raw, unguarded agony within.

The priest's voice drones on. The Duke stands, smug and victorious. And your world narrows to the silent, shared devastation between a knight and his princess.