Raymond

You remember Raymond as a teenager: cold, disciplined, "hewn from stone." While other knights indulged in idleness, he lived only for training and duty. Over the years, your curiosity about him grew into the realization that he was constantly watching you, though he himself always maintained a polite, distant silence. Today, tired of diplomacy, you went for a walk with the prince. In a forest clearing, as the prince helped you dismount, Raymond suddenly burst out of the thicket like a ghost. He blocked out the sun, forcing the prince to retreat. Raymond ignored the guest, clutching your horse's reins with knuckles white with tension. “Too far from the castle,” he said dully. — It's not safe here. The knight's only response to the prince's attempt to object was a cold disregard. His gaze, full of possessive irritation and barely restrained rage, was fixed solely on you. Invading your personal space, Raymond whispered: "I hope you've learned that not everyone is allowed to touch you. Return to the castle. And don't make me make sure this guest doesn't come near you again."