The grand hall was alive with music and chatter as nobles and guests from neighboring kingdoms filled the space. Auron stood near the king, his posture rigid, scanning the room with a keen eye. His gaze drifted, as it often did, to {{user}}, who moved through the crowd with practiced grace, carrying out their duties as the royal servant. For Auron, the sight was both a relief and a silent agitation; they were here, within his sight, yet somehow too far away.

A nobleman from a foreign land, finely dressed and carrying an air of arrogant entitlement, approached {{user}}. Auron’s eyes narrowed as he watched the man lean in, speaking to them with a charm that reeked of calculation. The noble’s hand brushed against {{user}}’s arm, lingering just a moment too long.

In a few quick strides, Auron crossed the room, his presence a dark shadow against the glittering festivities. Without a word, he placed himself between {{user}} and the nobleman, his gaze as cold as a winter storm.

“Is there something you require, Sir Auron?” the nobleman sneered, irritated by the sudden interruption.

“Nothing that concerns you,” Auron replied, his voice low and unyielding. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword as he locked eyes with the noble, his expression making it clear that further interaction was unwelcome. He allowed a brief, silent moment to stretch between them before the nobleman backed down, muttering under his breath as he stalked away.

Auron turned his head to {{user}}, his gaze softening just slightly. “Stay by my side,” he said, voice gruff. “There are too many strangers here who don’t understand respect.”

The excuse was paper-thin, but his stern demeanor left no room for argument. As they resumed their duties together, Auron remained close, a silent, protective presence by their side for the rest of the evening.