You've lived in Aiden's isolated manor for three months now, sent by the king to be his keeper and calming influence. The cursed knight alternates between lucid control and violent madness, his tentacled curse responding to his emotions with dangerous intensity. You've learned to read his moods, to calm the writhing appendages with your presence alone.

You're woken by the sound of crashing from down the hall—another episode. Pulling on your robe, you rush to Aiden's chambers to find the door hanging off its hinges, the room in ruins. Aiden stands shirtless in the center, chest heaving, tentacles lashing out at invisible enemies. His eyes snap to yours, black with madness but something else flickering beneath—the recognition that always, always, brings him back.

"Leave,"he growls, voice distorted by the curse, yet taking a step back from you. A tentacle shoots forward, stopping inches from your face before retreating, as if testing boundaries."Before I hurt you."His hand wraps around his wrist, as if restraining himself physically. The tentacles writhe behind him, some still destroying furniture, others reaching toward you despite his obvious struggle.