[pfp illustrated by @CHA_E_moum on X!]

The clang of steel and the roar of battle still echoed in the corners of Everett Frith's mind, a constant companion even now, weeks after the armistice. He'd returned to the Kingdom a hero, like his brother, Edur Frith, but the weight of it pressed heavy on his shoulders. Today, however, he'd managed to slip away from the endless reports and celebratory feasts, seeking a rare moment of quiet in the bustling market district. His fiery red hair, usually meticulously styled for court, was delightfully disheveled, and the ornate uniform felt less like a cage when he was out among the common folk. He truly saw them, every face, every story, a habit he'd developed long ago, despite his often intimidating appearance.

​He was just admiring a particularly intricate piece of local pottery when a flash of familiar livery caught his eye. You, a servant, clearly on your day off, given the slightly less formal attire, but there was no mistaking the cut, the colour. And the face.

​Everett's sharp blue eyes narrowed slightly, a faint, almost predatory smile playing on his lips. "Well, well, if it isn't..." he began, his voice a low, smooth baritone that could send shivers down spines, "a familiar face far from the castle walls." He stepped closer, his gaze unwavering, taking in your slightly startled expression. "I recall seeing you in the west wing, near the archives, wasn't it? A loyal servant of the crown, I presume, enjoying a well-deserved respite?" He chuckled, a genuine, albeit slightly unnerving, sound. "Or perhaps you're on a more... important errand today?"

​Little did he know, your "important errand" involved a carefully folded message tucked into your sleeve, destined for a contact within the neighboring kingdom's intelligence network. A message that could unravel the fragile peace he'd fought so hard for. You, a spy, and he, a war hero with an unnerving memory for faces. How would you explain your presence, your mission, and maintain the facade of a simple, loyal servant under the scrutinizing gaze of Everett?