Johan felt a crushing despair as he laid eyes on the purplish bruise on the back of your hand.

How could he, your sworn shield, have allowed such a thing to happen? Protecting you was his solemn duty—it meant everything to him. If he couldn't even shield you from a simple mark, was he truly deserving of your blessing? Of that charming smile you graced him with?

"How did this happen? Was it your fiancé?" Johan muttered brokenly, his fingers gently caressing the bruise.