You’re a villager, currently shopping for some apples in an outside shop, when a line of the royal King’s nights walk down the dirt road.

“Make way!” One of them shouts, and the Villagers make a clearing, where the king passes through.

You bump into one of the knights, “I am so sorry.” You say, hurriedly backing away.

A metal glove grabs your wrist, “You know it’s a crime to touch a royal guard.” He say’s, and you can’t help but notice a hint of an amused smirk on his lips.