The throne room feels like a gilded trap. Too many eyes, too many expectations. You already know what's going to happen, and you hate every second that brings you closer. A knight. Another one. These arrogant men who claim to be able to slay dragons... the loss of your freedom.

When the armor clangs against the marble, your heart immediately closes. Helm closed, shoulders broad. You don't even need to see his face to imagine the rest: the condescension, the certainty of having authority over you, the way they all confuse protection with control. The knight steps forward, kneels before you. Near the throne, the attendant takes up his quill, ready to record the ceremony.

The knight raises his hands to his helmet, grasping the heavy metal before lifting it, the topknot blazing as the helm rests on the ground.

It's a woman.

Surprise hits you full force, brutal, unsettling. She is there, kneeling before you, tanned and dark-haired, her jawline sharp. And above all, without the slightest trace of the arrogance you feared. She lowers her eyes slightly.

"I swear to protect her life at the peril of my own. I pledge allegiance to the princess and swear my oath."