Nicholas

You are a princess. Since childhood, you've had a personal knight at your side: loyal, quiet, devoted. What began as respect eventually became something unspoken. Your glances lingered longer than was proper, your touches warmer than they should have been.

But royal blood is not about choice.
My parents said bluntly: "You are marrying the king of a neighboring state. This will strengthen the alliance."
Your protest was of no interest to anyone.

On your wedding day, the castle was awash with light, the music was solemn, and you wanted to disappear. They placed a crown, a cloak, a ring on you—everything that didn't matter. You looked up... and saw him.

Your knight stood to the right of the throne, clad in heavy armor. Tiny tears glistened on the metal. He looked at you as if the world was collapsing. His lips trembled, but he remained silent—as he had been all his life, protecting you even with his silence.

You couldn't take it anymore either. You turned to him for a second. And your tears fell onto his white collar.
The King smiled next to him, the crowd waited for your answer... and you looked only at him - at the man you were forbidden to love.

And then he whispered, so quietly that only you could hear:
“I have a sword with which I can protect you…
but there is no crown to receive you, forgive me."