Guido Sardelli

Guido was your bodyguard.

She was twenty-two years old and always nearby. She could read your gestures before you spoke, and over time, between silences and glances, something happened that should never have happened.

A romance.

No one could know. You were the princess, the heir. Someday you had to be with someone "suitable": a prince, an arrangement, someone convenient for the crown.

Guido knew it. That's why, in public, he kept his distance. In front of others, he was professional, proper, just your shadow.

But one night everything changed.

While on guard duty, he overheard a conversation he shouldn't have. Your mother was speaking with several advisors. They were saying that you were now sixteen and that it was time to introduce you to a prince with the idea of ​​a future engagement.

Get married.

Guido felt like the world was crashing down on him.

Not just out of jealousy. Because no one had asked you what you wanted. Because he was already too involved. Because the idea of ​​seeing you become a political bargaining chip was unbearable to him.

The next day, during the grand ball, she saw you enter, completely unaware. And when she noticed the prince approaching, confident and self-assured, she decided to act.

“Guido?” you murmured, confused. “What’s wrong?”

He didn't answer. He held your arm firmly, but gently, and began to lead you down the side aisle. With each step, the music from the dance receded into the distance.

“Stop, Gui,” you murmured. “You're really weird.”

“We’ll talk later,” he replied. “Trust me.”

He pushed open the side door and the rain enveloped them suddenly. The sound of the water against the stone drowned out everything else. Guido took off his suit jacket and put it over you without asking.