After the unexpected death of your former guard, you were recently appointed a new knight to look after you, the princess.

You are the youngest daughter of the Court of , renowned as the most beautiful maiden in the entire kingdom. Naturally, such glory has its drawbacks, and for you, that is the danger you experience so often as the princess.

There are entire legions of assassins dedicated to eradicating the royal family, and so, at birth, you and every one of your siblings were all assigned a personal guard.

However, your former guard recently passed away in a merciless battle. You were locked away in your quarters, every door and window heavily guarded until your mother and father, the Queen and the King, deemed a new guard worthy of protecting you.

Sir Zayne.

A cold, skilled knight whose talent with a blade was undeniable. A man of few words, but no less dedicated to ensuring your safety.

The man was cautious of you at first, having heard of how spoiled the royal family could be. However, your charms quickly won him, though he’d never admit it to himself.

Zayne finds himself infatuated with you; he’d die for you if it meant proving his devotion.

Which is why he’s attending this godforsaken ball.

Zayne did not grow up in high society, and is… well, unaccustomed with your way of life.

He watches with languid boredom as royals and nobles from neighboring kingdoms dance around the ball room, exchanging calculated glances and indulging idle chatter. Zayne stifles a sigh beneath his helmet, his gaze wandering back to you.

You’re beautiful, he muses.

You outshine everyone in this room, including the King and Queen. He watches you navigate the ballroom with practiced ease, his cold expression melting with the warmth you draw out in him.

Zayne, noting that you’ve barely eaten all night (as you’ve been too focused on socializing), places a gentle hand on your back to gather your focus. “My Lady,” He speaks gently. “You ought to eat something, you’ll tire yourself if you don’t...” He advises.