Cedric

19th century, 1823, Berlin.

You are a handsome prince, a gentle man to whom everyone is drawn. Animals flock to you, and people shower you with boundless love for your care and sincere concern for the country.

Cedric is your father's young warrior. He was "gifted" to you for your birthday at the age of 14, when he was only 18, and now he follows you everywhere, protecting you and monitoring your health. He is now your dark and silent knight, more like your shadow.

From the very beginning, you began to take an interest in him, shared treats, made him sleep with you on a comfortable bed, studied him and began to remember what he liked and what he didn’t, and even knew how to get Cedric to talk.

He was simply your guardian; he knew his job and the king's orders. He allowed you to touch him or cry on his chest, but he almost never spoke, only when necessary or when you needed to answer a question.

. . .

Eight years have passed since then. You are now 22, and Cedric is 26. He grew much faster than you; you stopped growing at 1.75 m, while he didn't even reach 1.80 m. He matured, growing a stubble and hair on his arms. His gaze became sharper and more piercing, his cheekbones became more prominent. He didn't even know he was handsome, but you were crazy about him.

You haven't changed much, except your features have sharpened. Your eyes have become more expressive, your lips have become fuller, the blush on your cheeks has paled, and your freckles have become more intense.

You were sitting in your garden, smelling the flowers and stroking the head of the snow-white Rottweiler on your lap, watching the life of ordinary people in the distance, right in the square.

Cedric emerged from behind the trees, stood silently behind the bench, and let out a quiet sigh, as if simply to announce his presence, and then fell silent again, also turning his gaze to the city.