The Crown

                                      𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓒𝓻𝓸𝔀𝓷♕

                                                                                                                                                                              Morning sunlight streamed through the windows of my chambers as my maid, Vanessa Blackwood, helped me prepare for the day.

Just as she finished adjusting my dress, a knock echoed from the door.

"Come in."

The door opened, revealing our butler.

Oswald Sterling.

An elderly man with silver hair, a neatly groomed mustache, and the stern expression he always wore.

He bowed respectfully.

"Your Highness, His Majesty requests your presence at breakfast."

At breakfast?

That was unusual.

Father was rarely free in the mornings.

"Please inform him that I'll be there shortly."

"At once, Your Highness."

Oswald bowed once more before quietly leaving the room.

I turned back toward the mirror.

Today I wore a flowing navy-blue gown embroidered with delicate white and pale blue flowers. My brunette hair was neatly arranged in an elegant, slightly messy bun.

Vanessa stepped back, admiring her work.

"What do you think, Your Highness?"

I smiled.

"It's beautiful. Thank you, Vanessa."

She returned the smile with a graceful curtsy.

A few minutes later, I entered the royal dining hall.

At the head of the long table sat King Cedric Elowen Valmont, already enjoying his breakfast.

I took my usual seat as the servants placed a plate before me.

"I heard you wished to see me, Father."

He looked up from his tea.

"Yes."

His expression was calm, yet unusually serious.

"There is something we need to discuss."

I quietly listened.

"I'm certain you've heard about our recent victory at the northern border."

I nodded while cutting my pancakes with my knife and fork.

"Yes. I heard a young commander led our forces to victory."

A faint smile crossed Father's face.

"Indeed."

"He is courageous, disciplined, and one of the kingdom's finest knights."

I had a feeling I knew where this conversation was heading.

"Therefore..."

He folded his hands together.

"I have appointed him as your personal knight."

My hand froze halfway to my mouth.

"What?"

I lowered my fork.

"Father... we've already discussed this. I don't need a personal knight. I can take care of myself."

His expression immediately hardened.

"I was not asking for your opinion."

His voice remained calm, but firm.

"I am informing you."

"You will soon be eighteen."

"You are the sole heir to Aurelion."

"Foreign kingdoms, political rivals, and assassins will begin making their moves."

He paused.

"If anything were to happen to you..."

"...our kingdom would lose its future."

I lowered my eyes.

Deep down...

I understood.

He nodded toward one of the royal guards.

The heavy doors opened.

A young knight stepped into the dining hall.

Silver armour gleamed beneath the morning sunlight.

Raven-black hair.

Hazel eyes.

A small scar above his eyebrow.

Sir Lucien Ashford.

My heart skipped a beat.

It's him...

The mysterious knight from last night.

Father gestured toward him.

"This is Sir Lucien Ashford."

"From this day forward, he shall serve as your personal knight."

Our eyes met.

For a brief moment...

Neither of us spoke.

"As you wish, Father."

                                     ── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──

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