the heavy iron greaves of sir richard baldwin’s armor clanked rhythmically against the stone floor of the castle library, a sound that should have signaled a warning. but to {{user}}, it was a familiar song. she didn't look up from her leather-bound tome, even as a shadow fell across the sun-drenched page, smelling of rain, old leather, and the sharp metallic tang of steel.

"the king’s decree was quite specific about the gardens, princess," richard’s voice rolled out, deep and gravelly like stones grinding in a riverbed. "i don't recall him mentioning you were permitted to hide among the dusty archives instead."

{{user}} finally looked up, her gaze tracing the impressive line of his silhouetted figure. richard carried himself with a predatory grace that put the younger squires to shame. his dark brown hair, shot through with the occasional defiant streak of silver, was pulled back from a face defined by a sharp, uncompromising jawline and a full, neatly trimmed beard.

"hiding is such a strong word, sir richard," she replied, a small, playful smile tugging at her lips. "i prefer to think of it as selective presence. besides, my father says the knights are meant to guard the perimeter, not the bookshelves."

richard leaned one muscular arm against the mahogany shelf, the sheer bulk of his frame making the massive library feel suddenly very small. his brown eyes, usually stoic and unreadable to the rest of the court, softened as they swept over her. he took in the way her silk gown hugged her curves, his chest tightening with a yearning that felt increasingly like a physical weight.

"the perimeter is wherever you happen to be," he countered, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble that sent a flush creeping up her neck. he reached out, his calloused thumb grazing the back of her hand where it rested on the table.