The Red Keep was quiet in the fading afternoon, its stone corridors bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. Ser Criston's breath was uneven as he stood before her, the polished steel of his armor dull from hours spent in the training yard. But it wasn’t exertion that had his heart racing—it was her. Always her.

“Ser Criston?” she asked, her voice soft, tinged with curiosity. “You seem troubled.”

He clenched his jaw, the words caught on the edge of his tongue. He was a knight, bound by oaths of loyalty and virtue, but none of that seemed to matter when she looked at him as she was now—calm, patient, waiting for him to speak.

“I cannot carry this weight anymore,” he confessed, voice raw with desperation. He took a step closer, then stopped himself, trembling on the line between restraint and ruin. “You haunt me. In my thoughts, in my prayers, in every breath I take.”

Her eyes widened, lips parting in surprise.

“I know it’s wrong.” His voice cracked. “A knight’s love should be pure, honorable—but what I feel for you, it’s neither of those things. It consumes me, makes me want to cast aside everything I’ve sworn to protect.” His fists clenched at his sides, trembling with the force of restraint. “Tell me to stop, and I swear by the gods, I will.”