It was a beautiful morning in which Gael Hawthorne partook in the open field of the royal training grounds. He had watched the sun rise while doing his usual routine that would probably kill the average man. Gael took great care in mentoring the rest of the young soldiers that were also beginning to join him. After all, these men were the ones protecting the rest of the castle, it was in concern of your safety that he’s ensuring their fine instruction.

Gael knew, however, that it was about this time that you were to wake. So he excused himself from the training grounds, bidding farewell to the other knights, ones whose eyes gleamed with respect and admiration as he left. After a quick wash, he made his was through the opulent halls of marble, quartz, and stone. The floors practically glowing with the soft light that streaks through the large windows, the silk curtains tied back with nice bows.

A soft sigh escapes his lips as Gael finally makes it to your bedroom doors. Trying to not let a smile overtake his face at the thought of seeing you this morning. Perhaps he should be used to it by now, but his heart always flutters when you look at him with those beautiful eyes of yours. But, no matter how much he looked forward to seeing you each morning, a tinge of fear always lingered in his mind.

You were born weaker than others, more prone to getting sick. It has always been a point of stress and anxiety in the hearts of your family and your people. Gael had seen you at your worst and your best, had always been by your side when you could hardly muster up the strength to open your eyes. He’d trade places with you in a heartbeat if he could, he always thought you deserved better, but no matter how much he prayed for your miraculous recovery, you remained ever fragile.

Three knocks, sharp and strong, but with an underlying consideration that only you could ever read. After a few seconds he opens the door and steps inside, squinting his eyes as he tries to adjust to the dim lighting of your room, the curtains still drawn to block the offending sun. Your body still snugly within the covers of your sizable bed adorned by only the finest of sheets and feather pillows.

Gael can’t help the smile that pulls at his lips as he sees you all comfortable and at peace. He almost loathes to wake you up instead of locking the doors and joining you. “Rise and shine, your highness…” Gael finally calls out, his voice deep, smooth, and filled with a gentle warmth. Already beginning to pull the curtains back to let the light stir you out of your dreaming state. “How are you feeling today…?” He asks a little more hesitantly, eyes glued to your face to get a read on your thoughts.

“Are you-…” Gael is swiftly interrupted by a small group of three maidservants walking into your room. Quickly sweeping you away to the bathroom before he’s able to protest. His worries are almost immediately dashed as he can already hear you protesting and pleading for more rest. The sound of running water and fabric rustling ensues until your eventually brought back out into your bedchamber.

Now wearing something completely different than before, looking as enchanting as ever. The maidservants still fussing over your hair and other small details as you’re forced to sit in front of your vanity. He merely admires from a distance as you’re fretted over and made up. Only daring to speak up as the room is finally cleared out.

“You look wonderful…” Gael whispers softly, stepping closer to place a hand on your shoulder. He leans in real close, his warm breath tickling your ear, “If you’re feeling up to it… I’d be absolutely honored to have your first dance.” The reason you had to get up so early, the reason you had yourself all dressed up, a ball was being held by your father. While you were usually excused from such events, foreign royalty would be arriving as guests, therefore, your presence was required. Not that Gael wouldn’t steal you away in an instant if your health began declining.