I gulp, stepping back slowly. I'm no match for whatever this man is.
"Wh… who are you?"
I need to keep calm. I need a weapon. If I scream, I'm a princess—there must be knights outside the room who will rush in.
He gives no answer. He casually slips the blood-soaked handkerchief behind his armor as he swings his sword in the air, bringing it to rest at his side.
I reach for a flowerpot slowly. "Who are you? What are you doing in the Princess's bedroom!"
His silence presses heavier than a threat. Expressionless, cold, hollow eyes stare back at me as he takes a step forward.
"Stay back!!" I shout, my heart hammering against my ribs.
He doesn't listen. He just keeps coming.
"Help! There's an assassin!" I scream at the top of my lungs.
He's only a few steps away now. In a panic, I hurl the flowerpot straight at his head. He doesn't even try to dodge. It shatters against him, but he doesn't flinch—not even a blink.
Suddenly, the sound of heavy footsteps thunders down the hallway. The doors bang open.
"Your Highness!!"
A squad of knights rushes in, swords drawn and ready for blood. I feel a surge of relief—until they look at the man in front of me. In perfect unison, they stop. One by one, swords slide back into their sheaths, and step back out, slamming the door shut behind them.
What?! What kind of security is this for a princess?!
Before I can process the betrayal, he finally speaks. His voice is deep, vibrating through the floorboards.
"Is there an intruder here, my lady?"
I freeze. My lady? Intruder?
"You... You are the intruder! Who even are you?!"
For a split second, a flash of confusion crosses his eyes. "I am Kaelen Blackthorn. Personal knight to your husband, Lord Lucian Aetherion. From here on, I am assigned to protect you by my lord's orders."
A bodyguard? For me?
I freeze. Wait, I have to act like I know who he is. I can't look like a total stranger in my own body.
"Ah, Kaelen," I say, trying to smooth out my voice. "I didn't see you quite right at the balcony. It's dark, you know?"
He says nothing. He just scans the room, his gaze sharp and clinical. "I heard you yelling at someone. Is there an intruder? I sense no magical force in here."
Ugh, he was listening to me? Where was he hiding? No, wait—why am I in danger again? Who do I have to tame? Him? Why would he kill me? Urgh!!
"My lady?" he prompts, his voice like grinding stones.
"Yeah—ah, no. There was no one. But... why would there be?" I ask.
He nods slowly. "An alliance between two races who have fought for centuries... there are many who are against it. They will try to break it. The easiest way is to take your life while you are in the human kingdom, sparking a racial war all over again."
Oh, I see. Makes sense. No, wait—that means I'm a target! My heart does a frantic skip. The blue window said survive for ten minutes... what is about to happen?
"Ah, Kael," I say.
He looks at me for a second, his expression shifting as if I've just spoken in a forgotten language.
"See, I'll call you Kael. Don't look at me like I'm weird," I huff, trying to regain some ground. "Tell me what people call you. No, wait—tell me, who is the strongest knight alive in the world right now?"
Kael just looks at me, his eyes hollow as he gives a small thumb brush against the hilt of his sword. "The strongest knight alive is me. At your service, my lady."
Ok, cool. So it's him. I have to tame him. Assignment understood. Halfway there.
"Haha, I knew that! I knew," I laugh nervously. "It feels safe knowing I have you here. You won't let me die, right?"
He just nods.
Cool. Good boy. I might survive tonight. I try to reach for his head, but nah—he is way too tall for his own good.
"Come on, read the moment. Lean down a bit."
He actually leans down a fraction as I pat and ruffle his black hair. It's thick!
"Now, now... put that sword aside, please," I say.
I really can't trust a man with butcher eyes holding a massive blade this close to me.
He straightens back up immediately. "A sword is a knight's soul and pride. Besides, I have to protect you. I can't put it aside."
"Come on, you're a tough guy," I argue. "You didn't even flinch when a flowerpot hit you direct in the face. Put it aside, stay close to me, and protect me properly."
"Is it an order?" he asks.
"Yes, it's my order. Put it aside."
He nods and gently leans his massive sword against a nearby table before standing at attention in front of me again.
I let out a long sigh and sit on the edge of the bed. "I didn't see you at the church. Where were you all this time?"
"There were multiple assassination attempts on you, my lady," he says with a perfectly straight face. "I was taking care of them."
Wow. Great news delivery. He says it like he's telling me it rained today.
"That blood you wiped..." I ask, a bit scared to even know the answer. "Was that from them?"
"A group of our own race from the Aethros kingdom were trying to enter the royal palace territory."
Ah, I see. Wait—I need to know what kingdom I'm even in! System window, you've told me nothing! And wait... territory? He killed them out there but heard me yelling in here? What kind of ears does this man have?
Kaelen doesn't move for a moment. Then, slowly, he drops to one knee. He begins to pick up the jagged pieces of the broken flowerpot I threw at him, his movements calm and methodical.
I let out a breath, my heart finally slowing down. See? He's just a disciplined soldier.
"Oh, I'm so sorry I hit you with that," I say, stepping off the bed. I start to lean down, reaching out to help him gather the shards. "Let me help you—"
I don't even finish the sentence.
In a blur of motion, Kaelen is upright. Before my brain can register the movement, his hand is clamped around my throat. He doesn't just pin me; he lifts me clean off the floor with a single hand, my feet dangling uselessly in the air.
The "good boy" is gone. His eyes are full of a cold, murderous light that makes my blood turn to ice.
"Who are you?" he whispers, the sound vibrating through my very bones. "Where is the real Cyrina Vaeloria?"
I claw at his iron grip, my lungs burning, toes scraping air, as I look into the face of my supposed protector.
His grip tightens.
"Speak."