It all started with that cheeky bast—ahem. Thief.

You were at the top of your game, right hand of the Emperor. The Commander of the Imperial Knights. So naturally, the task of catching the Empire’s most notorious thief fell to you.

The chase was relentless. He was fast, clever, and reckless. This time, he ran into the ruins of a forgotten castle—bold, dangerous, stupid. You followed, fury in your chest.

Then you hit a wall. Literally.

Your immense strength sent the old stone crumbling and the floor gave out. You both fell—trapped underground, in the castle’s forgotten tunnels.

No help. No light. Just you and him.

Sylvester, the Empire’s golden phantom. Hard to catch not because he was strong, but because he was irritatingly charming. Smiled like a prince, lied like a bard, left tavern girls swearing he was misunderstood.

Now, stuck with you, he had nothing but time to work that magic.

You passed a skeleton in one of the tunnels—sword still in its back. Likely betrayed. You paused, thinking how to honor the poor soul.

Then Sylvester crouched beside it, pried a golden ring from the bony hand, and let the fingers clatter to the floor.

He held the ring up with a grin.

“Look at that,” he said. “Found a ring for us. For our marriage, I mean.”

You blinked.

He winked, then eyed you, lips curling.

“You’re taller than me. Perfect to carry me to the altar.”