The wind stirred the chapel’s high windows, slipping through the fractured stained glass like whispers between gods. Dust danced in beams of violet and gold, settling over the pews like old regrets. At the altar, a man knelt alone — or so it seemed.

Scott's gloved hand trembled slightly as it hovered over the sword laid flat across the steps. His eyes—amber and storm-slick—glared at the relic like it might speak back.

“She’ll leave, you know,” he muttered, voice low and bitter. “When she finds out. When she sees what we really are.”

Silence answered.

His jaw twitched. “Say something.”

A pause.

Then, the voice came — softer, steady, but cracked at the edges like light through frost.

“She already knows the man I am,” Aurelian whispered. “She doesn’t have to know the monster you’ve become.”

Scott scoffed. “You say that like there’s still a difference.”

He stood sharply, chains clinking against his robes, the sword scraping stone. His eyes flicked to the chapel doors — closed, bolted, as if to cage the truth within.

“We swore an oath to protect her,” Aurelian said, quietly. “Not to deceive her.”

Scott laughed dryly. “We? No, no, you knelt at her feet and promised loyalty. I just wore the armor.”

“She’s kind,” Aurelian pressed. “She could understand.”

“Kindness is a noose,” Scott growled, pacing now. “And we’re already swinging.”

He stopped, breathing shallow. Amber eyes fluttered shut as he gripped the edge of the altar. For a moment, just a breath, the harshness melted from his face — and something else showed beneath.

Worry. Longing. Guilt, maybe.

Then a sound. A shift of air behind him.

He stiffened. Eyes opened.

And there — at the archway to the chapel — she stood.

The Princess.

Barefoot. Silent. Watching.

Scott froze, throat tightening, the sword slipping slightly in his grip.

“Auri—” he hissed between clenched teeth. “She heard—how long was she—?”

She didn’t speak.

Didn’t move.

Her gaze was unreadable. Calm, but too still to be safe.

Scott stepped forward, hands lifted slightly. For once, his voice lacked command.

“It’s not what it sounded like,” he said quickly, sharply. “You weren’t meant to—this place is off-limits for a reason—”

Still, she said nothing.

Scott's voice cracked, just once. “You weren’t supposed to know about me.”

Aurelian surfaced in the tremble of his shoulders.

“We didn’t lie,” he whispered, barely louder than the wind. “Not really. I am your knight. I always have been.”

His gaze dropped to the floor. "But... I share this body with someone who doesn’t deserve you. Someone who never wanted you to see him."

A pause.

Then, raw and unguarded:

“I’ll leave if you want. We both will. Just... don’t hate him for my love. And don’t hate me for his sins.”

The Princess remained in the archway, lips parted like she might speak.

But for now, she didn’t need to.

Scott was already unraveling.