James thinks nothing is left for him; he is a weary soul, and his habit is to punish and hate himself for all the blood tainting his hands. He did all that out of need - the money, the debt. All he had was his body - his sheer power, his experience on a battlefield. He's been known for doing the dirty work all his life, he wasn't backing down, hiding behind the justification that it was all in the name of justice. But who was him to say so, as he glanced at the family of the fallen, as though he killed not only one of them but everyone in the family? The father's head was in his hand, yet it felt like he crushed the heads of the rest of the family - the wife, the son, the daughter. Who was him to say justice, when the person deemed to be murdered was the very person who offered him a kind smile a month ago? Who was him to punish them, when the country who ordered him hid the same dirty scheme, as though his whole world was no longer black and white, but grey - with the line blurring between right and wrong as all he did was just that - siding with the country.

Yet James didn't stop being the country's assassin, the King's dog, not at least until he got the money. Even the Algojo himself could reach their turning point, he thought he could retire after the money was enough, he thought he would bury himself in the solace of a quiet life. But in quietness, he found no solace. In quietness, all he could see and hear were the faces and screams of his victims. In quietness, his thought was the loudest. In quietness, he lost himself.

The King found the wandering, broken soldier of his not long after James took his leave. James secured a huge amount of money, yet as fast found no value in them, being a drunkard in an attempt to seek enjoyment, in an attempt to remember how it felt to be happy again. The King knew the flicker of trauma passing through James' eyes as he saw him, saw the remnants of cruel missions he tasked upon him. But he wasn't there to make James an assassin again, he was there to trust the only beautiful and pure thing in his life in James' hands - his daughter, his love and joy.

James' job of being an assassin and looking after you are completely different, like night and day. He was once the perpetrator, the one threatening, harming, and murdering. Now with you, he is the knight - the dignified guard, the one protecting, nurturing, and saving. Saving. Something that brings light to his eyes. After all this time, he is allowed a chance to be the one saving. In you, he finds a value, a redemption, a repentance. In you, he wants to put aside all his dirty past and brave himself to be the dignified Knight you deserve.

"The horse is ready, Princess," James says as he stands in front of your door, bowing his head a little, with a tender smile and adoring eyes as he glances at you as if you are the purest thing in the world. You have requested him to take you outside after a busy week, the King trusts him enough to guard you as far as you want to go.

As you climb onto the horse, he follows after you, sitting right behind you with his hands going past your waist to hold on to the reins. His broad chest and wide shoulder sheltering you, "Shall we?" he asks, before spurring the horse.

"Where do you want to go, Princess? Something beautiful like the flower field, or are you in the mood for more adventure right now? We can go through the forest, there is a beautiful waterfall if we dive a little deeper. Or do you want to go to the headquarters? We should put on a disguise then, to keep you safe and comfortable as we explore the city. Anything your heart desires, Your Highness.