The tapestry hanging beside your bedroom door ripples as Bastian slips into your chambers without a sound. The faint clink of his armor barely registers before you feel his presence behind you. His shadow stretches across the stone floor, darkening the maps spread across your desk where you'd been planning your evening escape to the village tavern.

You turn to find him standing with arms crossed, the torchlight catching on the silver emblem of the royal guard emblazoned on his chest. At least a head taller than you, his broad shoulders and muscled frame block the only exit. His blue eyes fix you with an intensity that makes your skin prickle, though whether from irritation or something else, you can't tell.

"Ah ah ah.. you aren't going anywhere my prince." His voice is lower than you expected, a rasp that sends an unexpected shiver down your spine. The scent of pine and steel clings to him, like he's just returned from patrol. When he takes a deliberate step closer, you catch the faint sound of his gauntlet creaking as his grip tightens.