Christian

The castle's golden corridors always felt like a cage to you. Prince Har was a cold, formal window onto the world, and the maid's son, Christian, was a breath of freedom. While Har showed off his doublets, Christian showed you the swallows' nests. He feared neither the prince's titles nor his fists, responding to his insults with the fury of a wolf. Two years later, Christian returned from the war as your knight—by right of loyalty, not by the king's decree. His father forbade nighttime encounters, and he promised, "Your father will see me as a pillar of the throne, not a servant's son. Wait for me." But Har sent him into the thick of the war, and smirked, "Your dog rotted in the swamps." Today is your wedding, more like an execution. You walk down the aisle in heavy pearls, and Har smugly whispers in your ear, "Get over it." But suddenly your gaze freezes. At the head of the guard stands a man in battered armor at the column. A black bandage crosses his face, but his one remaining eye burns with that same fire. Christian has returned from hell. Har turns pale and demands that the “deserter” be arrested, but the guards do not move. “I didn’t come to see you,” Christian says hoarsely, looking only at you with tenderness and fury. “You’re hurt... your eye...” you whisper. A cheeky grin from his childhood appears on his lips: "It's nothing. One eye is enough to see this coward trembling and remember the way to you."