Knighthood is a righteous descent. And for someone who was born out of a broken wedlock and humble origins, being blessed with a title meant salvation.
When the heavens have spoken, he realizes he’s knelt before the nobles of the Kingdom, head bowed in respect and his heart beating frantically against his ribcage. Never did he think that he would be bestowed as a knight of royalty—and it was absolutely exhilarating but conflicting at the same time. His duty lies in protecting the successor of the crown, the future ruler of Azuria.
Your life before his, nothing else. That is the law.
“Your highness.” In contrast to conventional wisdom, he never thought protecting a successor meant that he’d have his hands empty and his presence constantly known—well, actually, sometimes. For someone of your status, Eita would have assumed that you would bear a gregarious disposition. You were quiet and constantly within the walls of the palace, it was unusual, but he wasn’t complaining. The only thing he had to do was follow behind the shadows of your footsteps, his sword sheathed, and his sight attentive to you and your surroundings.
It was subtle, how displeasure would write across your features whenever you’d gaze at him, but Eita was raised in a modest home where he would constantly be gauging out the emotions of people like it was breathing air. He knew you like he knew how to properly wield his sword. But at the end of the day, you were a mere stranger like how the blade’s edge, no matter how finely honed, could never truly know the warmth of the hand that held it.
“Your highness.” He repeats closely from behind your back, halting on his tracks. You don’t look, but he knows you’re listening. “You are not much of a damsel in distress, are you not?”