The echo of footsteps against the stone walls of the throne hall slowly faded away.

  The Princess stood a few steps before the throne, staring unwillingly at the line of men standing across from her.

  Nearly the eleventh candidate stepped forward. He spoke of his lineage, his loyalty, and the number of battles his sword had seen.

  The Princess did not wait for him to finish.

  “No.”

  The man froze.

  The next candidate was more careful. He knelt and lowered his head.

  “I would give my life for Your Majesty—”

  “You don’t need to protect my life,” the Princess said, her voice sharp.

  “I am looking for neither a bodyguard nor a display piece.”

  Whispers rippled through the hall. The King straightened in his seat. This would not continue like this.

  He stood.

  “Enough.”

  A single word was enough to silence the room. The King turned his head toward the man standing slightly behind him as always, a man whose face carried calculation rather than emotion.

  The Adjutant.

  “You will handle this,” the King said.

  The Adjutant bowed his head.

  “Yes, Your Majesty. I have someone in mind.”

  For the first time, the Princess was genuinely curious.

  “Who?”

  But the Adjutant did not answer.

  The Adjutant descended from the palace with several soldiers. By the time they passed through the stone stairs and exited the gates, the city was already awake. Life flowed through the narrow streets, and the noise of the marketplace filled the air.

  Those who saw him hesitated.

  “What is the Adjutant doing here?” someone whispered.

  “Were the royal guards not enough?” another muttered.

  “Something’s happening,” an old woman murmured. “Days like this never pass quietly.”

  The Adjutant did not even turn his head. His steps were firm. Eyes followed him slowly as he passed.

  Leaving the wealthy districts behind, he descended into the poorer quarters. The houses grew smaller, the walls cracked, the streets narrowed. No one spoke loudly here.

  He stopped in front of an old house.

  He hesitated before knocking. Then the knocker fell.

  Footsteps came from inside.

  When the door opened, the Adjutant met the man’s eyes.

  Years had passed… but some faces never changed.

  “Sentry,” the Adjutant said.

  And the city did not yet know what that name meant.

  As the door opened fully, the Adjutant stepped forward.

  “Sentry.”

  Sentry’s gaze slid past the Adjutant to the men behind him. His brows furrowed slightly.

  “Who are they?” he asked.

  “What happened—did you all turn into bandits, or did you lose your way?”

  One of the soldiers moved as if to step forward.

  “What did you say—”

  “Stop.”

  The Adjutant’s voice was low, but it was an order. The men fell silent at once.

  Without breaking eye contact with Sentry, the Adjutant spoke.

  “You know me,” he said.

  “And you can probably guess why I’m here.”

  Sentry opened the door a little more, but did not step aside.

  “Castle matters don’t concern me,” he said coldly.

  “I want nothing to do with that ledger.”

  The Adjutant inclined his head, as if he had expected this.

  “This time, you won’t be able to close it.”

  Sentry’s hand tightened on the edge of the door.

  “You’re at the wrong door.”

  The Adjutant stepped closer.

  “For the Princess,” he said simply.

  Silence fell. Even the wind in the street seemed to stop.

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  Sentry’s gaze remained hard, but something inside him cracked.

  “I won’t do it,” he said.

  “Find someone else.”

  The Adjutant turned to the soldiers behind him.

  “Stay back.”

  Then he turned to Sentry again.

  “This is not a request,” he said.

  “This is a call.”

  Sentry let out a long breath, never taking his eyes off the Adjutant.

  “I’ll come to the castle,” he said at last.

  “But that doesn’t mean I accept.”

  The Adjutant smiled for the first time.

  “I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

  As Sentry closed the door to prepare, the house fell into silence for a moment. As he strapped on his sword, his gaze lingered on the wall.

  I swore I’d never come back when I left here as a child, he thought.

  When he stepped outside, the Adjutant was waiting. The soldiers parted to either side. Without a word, Sentry began to walk.

  As they descended into the city, eyes turned toward them.

  “Who is that?”

  “He’s walking beside the Adjutant…”

  “He must be important.”

  “His armor is old, but his stance is different.”

  Sentry heard them, but his expression did not change.

  The looks haven’t changed, he thought. People always look at power. They never ask what it cost.

  As they passed through narrow streets, one of the soldiers grumbled.

  “With this many men, why did we even bring him?”

  Another laughed quietly.

  “An old knight, huh? He’s barely older than my dick.”

  Sentry stopped.

  Slowly, he turned to face them. He did not smile. He did not raise his voice.

  He only said this:

  “Don’t ask my age,” he said calmly.

  “Ask how many people made it out of this path alive.”

  One of the soldiers reached for his sword.

  “What are you saying—”

  “Enough.”

  The Adjutant stepped between them, standing beside Sentry.

  “You will not question this man’s path,” he said.

  “I summoned him.”

  The soldiers bristled, but fell silent. Tension thickened. The rest of the journey passed in heavy quiet.

  As the city gates fell behind them, Sentry thought:

  The Princess…

  The Palace…

  The Nobles.

  None of it was my world.

  But everything I ran from… is calling me back now.

  When the castle came into view, the soldiers fell silent. As the walls rose higher, there were no words left to say.

  Sentry lifted his head.

  The man who enters those doors will not be the same man who leaves, he thought.

  When the great doors opened, the air inside the hall was heavy. Stone pillars, high ceilings, whispers…

  All of it was weighed in a single glance.

  Sentry entered. He neither knelt nor bowed his head.

  Whispers erupted instantly.

  “Disrespectful.”

  “What kind of knight is that?”

  “Where did the Adjutant find him?”

  The Princess tilted her head slightly.

  “Why didn’t you bow to me?”

  Sentry’s voice was calm, but firm.

  “If bowing is respect,” he said,

  “then I show respect through duty. Not display.”

  The hall went cold.

  The whispers died mid-breath.

  The Adjutant’s eyes narrowed.

  There it is…

  A noble stepped forward, a mocking smile on his face.

  “So you’re an arrogant bastard.”

  Sentry turned his gaze to him.

  “I’m not the arrogant one,” he said.

  “The one who speaks while trusting nothing but his bloodline—that’s you.”

  The man was about to shout back when—

  “Enough.”

  The Princess spoke. Her voice was clear.

  “I will… consider this man.”

  An uproar broke out.

  “She’ll consider him?”

  “For the first time—”

  “The Princess has never—”

  The Princess raised her hand.

  “Before I decide,” she said,

  “he will stay here.”

  Sentry’s brows furrowed involuntarily.

  Seriously? he thought. I never wanted this job.

  He almost stepped back, but stopped. The weight of the hall’s gaze pressed down on him.

  No, he told himself. I haven’t taken it. Not yet.

  The Adjutant bowed his head. His expression was clear: satisfaction.

  “Servants,” he said,

  “escort our guest to his chambers.”

  As Sentry walked toward the assigned rooms, his steps were slow. The castle corridors were quiet—but too quiet.

  Wrong, he thought.

  A servant standing at a corner looked away too quickly. A door that should have been closed swayed slightly with the wind.

  Sentry stopped.

  This castle is not protected.

  It is being watched.

  And for the first time, a single thought settled in his mind:

  The danger around the Princess… is far closer than they think.

  When night fell, Sentry lay on his bed, but did not sleep. His room was close to the Princess’s. He watched the ceiling. Listened to the silence.

  A shadow moved at the end of the corridor.

  Sentry stood. He silently cracked the door open. The shadow moved forward.

  A servant.

  Slouched shoulders, head lowered. Normal. Too normal.

  Sentry paused.

  I’m becoming paranoid, he thought.

  He turned back toward his room when—

  A scream.

  Sharp. Full of panic.

  Sentry ran.

  The Princess was alone in her chamber. Candlelight flickered across the walls. A knock sounded at the door.

  “Enter.”

  A servant stepped inside. He did not bow.

  “Your Majesty,” he said softly,

  “the stars are restless tonight.”

  The Princess looked up from her book, frowning.

  “What do you mean?”

  The servant smiled. The smile did not suit his face.

  “Not everyone meets their fate in their own room.”

  The Princess stepped back.

  “What are you saying?”

  The servant’s hand slowly moved to his waist.

  “You wished for something,” he said.

  “Silence.”

  Metal flashed.

  The Princess screamed.

  The door burst open.

  Sentry charged in.

  One step. A single motion. The sword pierced the attacker’s back and tore out through his abdomen. The man’s eyes widened. His mouth moved as if to speak, but only blood spilled out as he collapsed—already dead.

  Soldiers poured into the room.

  “Drop your weapon!”

  “Sentry—”

  The Princess shouted, her voice shaking.

  “How dare you! He is my protector!”

  The hall filled quickly. Nobles, guards, the Adjutant…

  “This man…”

  “Did he sense it beforehand?”

  “Or was it—”

  The Adjutant looked at Sentry. For the first time, there was genuine respect in his eyes.

  “I called the right man,” he said quietly.

  Sentry slowly lowered his sword.

  “I still haven’t accepted,” he said.

  But no one was listening anymore.

  The Princess looked at Sentry. This time, not with fear.

  With curiosity.

  And Sentry realized something:

  Leaving this castle… would be far harder than he had thought.

  End of Chapter 2