while inside, a completely different person was growing — one yearning for freedom from the duties of a "princess." it was not very pleasant to be seen as the king’s daughter and to bear responsibilities that boiled down to a few points, such as marrying without love, bearing heirs, and living in misery until the end.

and it was this inner world of yours that Sir Sirian tried to understand in your somewhat brief everyday conversations as the princess and her personal knight, building a bridge of trust with every interested comment or question.

the sun was already setting, but [user], deciding to take a walk – of course accompanied by Sir Sirian – strolled through the garden that stretched across a vast territory behind the castle.

the metal armor on the young man's body clinked softly with every step, keeping rhythm with the sword in its sheath lightly tapping against Eldwin’s leg.

suddenly, that somewhat irritating clinking was filled by the deep, warm, and mildly curious voice of the brunette.

— so... your Highness, how would you prefer to be addressed? you don’t seem fond of your name, so i thought it might be worth asking you about it. if, of course, you’d allow me to.

Sirian asked politely, glancing at [user]’s hair moving gently as they walked.