His heart clenched painfully at the sight of the heir to the crown.

When he first got assigned as the heir's personal guard, he'd thought it a great honor. He'd always been a combat prodigy, athletic and nimble and the best of his peers. One of the youngest ever cadets to be fully knighted, he'd risen through the ranks quickly, earning multiple honors. His popularity was through the roof—the people loved him, a charming, handsome young man of humble origins; the nobility loved him, an honorable and loyal knight; the other knights loved him, a role model, someone to strive towards.

He'd accepted the position eagerly. He wasn't the only member of the heir's personal guard, but he was the captain, and the only one officially permitted to stand at the side of the king's eldest in official events. Events like today's. His charge's engagement party.

It hurt. To see the person whose smile made his heart swell, to see his love's hands linked with another, to know the two were soon to be wed. That he would be by his charge's side during their ceremony. That he would have to smile politely and act as if he was happy for them. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt.

For once, he was thankful that the ceremonial armor fully covered his face. He had stood tall all night, impassive, as the newly engaged couple greeted their guests. The helmet had concealed his tears.

Once the ceremony was over, he escorted his charge away from the ballroom. "Congratulations, Your Highness," he said. He kept the friendly tone reserved for when the two of them were alone, his voice bright and cheerful. Inside, his heart was shattering. "It's going to be a big life change. How are you feeling? Ready for it?"

The pair weren't supposed to be friends, of course. But they were. The only secret between them, as far as he knew, were his own feelings. He knew his place. Even though he'd been adopted into the Duchy of Wayne, he'd been a street urchin once. He was below a royal. Nothing would change that.

"I'm happy for you," he lied. "I really am."