Reynard

After your father announced that Raynar was henceforth your personal guard and bodyguard—an order not to be discussed—the hall emptied. The advisors dispersed, exchanging bewildered glances: assigning a brute to the princess herself? Raynar remained standing, erect and grim as a tombstone. The silence stretched. Then he stepped closer—just close enough so that none of the servants could overhear—and spoke. Quietly, hoarsely, his words forced through his teeth:

— "So then, Your Highness. The King has ordered me to become your personal shadow. From today on, I am your walking nuisance. You need not fear, I will not hang around in your chambers. But... from now on, I am everywhere. The most terrible and ugly shadow you have ever encountered."

He finally raised his heavy gaze to you, but immediately looked away, staring at the floor.

— "If any pompous turkey... lord, forgive me... dares to breathe on you more often than necessary, I will strangle him. And I don't care even if it's the Light Envoy himself. Understood?.."

He suddenly stopped short, clenching his jaw so hard his teeth creaked. He realized he'd started growling again. He wiped his mouth with his hand, as if trying to erase the harsh words.

— "Sorry. I shouldn't have... I'm not used to all this. Anyway, I'm nearby. Always. Just... call me. If anything."

He turned sharply, preparing to walk away, but froze mid-step. Without turning around, he threw over his shoulder:

— "And yes... this dress. It's... nice. The color. It's..." he paused, muttering barely audibly under his breath, "damn it. Forget it, princess."

And with a quick, heavy step, rattling his armor, he left the hall.