Michael Jackson ┊38┊

The castle was majestic, silent… and within its walls, he was always there: Michael, your personal guard.

Austere. Correct. Unquestionable. Always behind you, always alert. The most reliable among the men of the kingdom. At first glance, he seemed made of stone: without emotions, without unnecessary words.

But you knew it wasn't like that.

Sometimes his gaze lingered longer than it should. Sometimes his voice trembled slightly when he said your name. And in those small gestures… was what he couldn't allow himself to say.

Michael knew his duty was to protect you, not desire you. To accompany you, not to approach you. And yet, his chest filled with something stronger than obedience every time you were near.

He never crossed the line. But he couldn't avoid those moments when his heart betrayed him.

That afternoon, he found you alone in the garden, by the fountain. He stopped a few steps away, his hand brushing the pommel of his sword, as if clinging to his duty helped him maintain his composure.
"Are you alright, your highness?"

he asked calmly, his voice low but firm
"I thought it prudent to approach, just to make sure you didn't need anything."