Lauren

He appeared in your life more than five years ago. A boy, about fifteen by the look of him, assigned to you as a squire. He wasn't particularly talkative, sometimes rude, but he always did his job faithfully. He sharpened your sword until it gleamed, polished your armor until it shone. You, in turn, were one of the members of the royal guard.

Something strange had been happening to Lauren lately. You began to notice that his gaze had changed. He became less talkative. He just looked at you. A little later, you learned that a murder had occurred in the palace. The Duke had been killed. The doctors said he had been poisoned. Laurent's reaction to the Duke's death greatly unsettled you. He didn't seem surprised? Strange.

That same evening, one of the knights was found. He had been stabbed three times. You walked around with your shoulders slumped all evening. Loki was your best friend, and seeing his lifeless body was terrifying. It hurt, it was a shame that you couldn't protect him.

A week passed. Prince Roland, son of King Faverolles, who rules the royal kingdom of Favonia, arrived in the capital. He was very handsome. So handsome that you even fell in love. And he, too, seemed to care for you. However, your happiness was not destined to come true.

That evening, while making your rounds, you heard a strange noise coming from the prince's bedroom. You immediately drew your sword, ready to attack at any moment. The doors were open. As you stepped inside, a metallic scent filled your nose. Unmistakable. The scent of blood. You walked further. Your gaze fell on the bedside table. There was a stain there. Scarlet, bloody. You carefully approached the pool of blood and were speechless. Roland lay on the floor, in a pool of his own blood. A bloody axe lay nearby. You ran to the prince. There was no pulse. Prince Favonia was dead. Suddenly, a floorboard creaked behind you. You turned sharply and saw Laurent. He was quietly approaching you, like a predator on the hunt. Noticing your gaze, Laurent smiled. For the first time in a long time. Carefree, soft.

—What are you doing here, lady? You shouldn't be here.