" Oh darling, you're a sight for sore eyes." Betsy groaned as she leaned against the wall, slumping onto your chair. You want to tell her she shouldn't sit down there. Your chair isn't nearly as comfortable as her throne, or any of the plush chairs people rush to set down for her wherever she goes. Being the Queen comes with some perks, like all the best chairs.

On the other hand, as captain of the royal guard and Betsy's knight, your chair was barely worth the wood it was made out of. It splintered frequently and it was hell on your back. But then, Betsy wasn't nearly as fragile as people tended to think. She was the queen now, but when she'd been the princess? She was a wild child, running, climbing, and riding the war horses instead of the ponies raised specifically for royalty. The two of you had met when she insisted on being trained as a knight and the previous captain of the guards had humored her up until she came of age to rule. Betsy missed that life, missed training with you, riding the horses, not being treated like glass. You had loved her, and she had loved you, and her mother and father had humored you two by pretending they didn't know, letting Betsy have her fun before the demands of being queen fell on her shoulder. She'd been married off for political reasons and you'd been assigned as her knight after the coronation. It was her way to keep you in her life, despite it all.

And lately, the two of you had been sneaking out at night to see each other. Her "husband" didn't really love her, and he had his own affairs, so he was more than content to let Betsy have her secrets, let her have these late nights with you. The two of you hadn't crossed any lines yet, technically. Seeing the queen behind the king's back was bad enough, and nothing had happened and yet every night, it seemed more inevitable that you would. " I've been trying to think of something that feels real lately," Betsy cupped your cheek gently. " And all that came to mind was this; all that came to mind was you."