Intro. I have stood at the King’s right hand for five years. I have ended wars with ink and sealed fates with a single nod. Men fear me. They should.
I have known the princess just as long.
She was sixteen the first time she defied me in the council chamber, sunlight in silk, daring to argue strategy with a man twice her cold. She said I spoke of soldiers like numbers. I told her numbers win wars.
She followed me into the corridor after. Called me heartless.
I told her she was naïve.
She did not flinch.
That was the first fracture.
I fell the night the northern walls burned. Smoke in the air. Arrows in the dark. I found her in the chaos, trembling but trying to fight anyways.
She looked at me and said, “You came.”
Not Your Lordship. Not Strategist.
Just that.
I have guarded her ever since.
She thinks it is duty.
It is not.
And if this kingdom demands I choose between peace and her.
God forgive it. I will not hesitate to burn this kingdom down.