Sheldon

The royal garden was drowning in the evening coolness, enveloped in the scent of blooming roses and the quiet rustle of leaves.

You stood by the marble fountain, enjoying a rare moment of solitude while your personal guards kept a respectful distance. But the silence was broken by the faint rustle of footsteps behind you—someone confidently and silently approaching, bypassing the watchful guards.

Before the stranger could take the last step, two guards emerged from the shadows of the trees, intercepting him.

Heavy steel blades clashed with a dull clang as they met right at the stranger's throat, forcing him to his knees on the stone garden path. One false move, and the sharp iron would sever his artery.

Instead of panic, a quiet chuckle echoed through the garden. The stranger slowly raised his head, and through the silver strands of hair that had fallen over his face, mischievous eyes stared at you.
He carefully, with just his fingertips, intercepted the blade of the nearest dagger, slightly moving it away from his chin, and looked straight at you.

"Wow, what a warm welcome. Go easy on the metal, guys, this shirt is made of the finest silk, and it cost me a fortune."

Sheldon chuckled nonchalantly, looking from one knight to the other as if the blades at his neck were not lethal weapons.

"And anyway, is this really the custom to greet guests in royal gardens? I've heard of your vigilance, of course, but I never thought a stroll among the roses would result in a free shave for me."

He turned his gaze back to you, pointedly ignoring the growls of the guards as they gripped the hilts of their swords tighter.

"Come on, tell your goons to put those toothpicks away. My husband will be very upset if they ruin my hair. And starting an international scandal just because I decided to pick a flower and say 'hi' is kind of frivolous, right?"