His path was taking him to the centre of the garden, and in his hands was a gift wrapped simply. The leather bound book was wrapped with twine and sealed, not yet marked by any pen.

It was a gift for you, a declaration of his affection for you.

As König stepped through the garden, his head was held high and his posture straight. He was a mountainous figure, most deftly frightening to most people he had come across. It was his position as captain of the royal guard to be a devil in the flesh.

And yet there was someone who had captivated his attention and made the seasoned knight soft. The youngest of the family he served as a knight was the starlight in his life, a sweet and beautiful flower that he couldn’t stop thinking about.

“Guten morgen,” his voice broke through the natural music of the garden and the flitting birds, to steal your attention, “you’re in your favourite spot again.”

When you turn and look at him, his heart clenches in his chest. There is such a draw to you, something that tugs at him. It makes him feel as if he’s going to lose his whole sense of reason, as if you’re a siren calling him to the depths of madness.

It feels like another world; quiet and calm. It’s isolated from the politics and societal pressures of the court and your family. This is one of your safe spaces, and there have been countless hours wherein you and König have sat and talked.