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sonotpattismith · 3 months ago

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knight Choso is consuming my every thought I fear I can’t rest until part two is finished

my last dying breath (part I)

pairing: knight!choso x princess!reader word count: 8.1k content: YEARNING, mentions of murder, grief, loss, forbidden love, choso being down horrendous, angst, 18+ a/n: marking 18+ as part two will have smut

“With honor as my shield and loyalty as my sword do I, Choso Kamo, pledge my life unto thee, my princess. Should danger darken your path, I shall carve through its shadow, and should treachery whisper in the halls, I shall silence it before it should dare reach your ears. Should death dare extend its hand unto thee, I shall offer my own in its place. This I swear unto thee until my last dying breath, your highness.”

You didn’t expect the man who pledged himself so ardently to you, bent on one knee and neck bowed solemnly in the midst of the Ceremony of Oath, to ignore you with such unparalleled will. Well, perhaps he didn’t completely ignore you.

“Good morning, your highness.” His level voice would catch you by surprise that very first morning following his being sworn in, already standing guard outside the door of your chambers. The knight didn’t look at your way as he greeted you, his posture stiff as a board with his gaze pointed toward the wall across from him.

“Sir Kamo,” you gasped in surprise, placing a hand over your racing chest. “You’re… very early.”

Being surrounded by surveillance certainly was not something you were unfamiliar with. They always lined the dining rooms, each ball and afternoon tea. Still, you had never experienced this— this… shadow of a knight falling into step behind you at all times.

“Your highness wakes early.” He explained simply, making you scoff out a soft, incredulous laugh.

“Well… yes, however surely there is no need for such attentiveness at this hour.” You rationed, looping around to stand before him in hopes he’d finally look you in the eyes. They merely glanced down at you for what seemed like a fractioned second before returning to the wall behind you.

“I shall be here each morning before you wake, and we shall part here each night before you rest, Princess. As is my duty.”

Blinking away the shock that was surely present in your eyes, you hoped he couldn’t sense the dread wafting from you at the notion that you’d never be allowed a moment of solace again.

Of course, since the Queen was assassinated, even in the midst of your grieving the loss of your mother did you acknowledge that things would quickly change within this castle. With your being the next and only rightful heir to the crown that weighed so heavily on her head, it was to be expected that the King would demand constant surveillance of your safety. Why Sir Kamo was the knight he was so insistent upon appointing you, you had yet to uncover.

Attempting to break through his stiffly formal facade in hopes of making all this time you two would evidently be spending together less suffocating, you forced an amused smile onto your lips.

“And if an enemy dares sneak in through my window at night, Sir?” You teased.

“If I may remind your highness, that her chambers reside on the sixth story of the castle.” Choso’s tone remained as neutral as ever, even if the subtext of his words were coated in more sass than he had intended, and surely more than he’d ever dare to mock his princess with. “There are knights appointed to stand guard of these halls in the night, nonetheless.”

“Yes, of course.” You sighed out, feeling the blood rushing to your cheeks at his dismissal of your attempt at a jest.

As though sensing your rapidly deflating mood, his chocolate eyes glanced toward you momentarily for only the second time that morning. Now staring at him head on, you took note of the angry scar that sliced across his face. It appeared fresh— hauntingly so.

“And if your highness should ever feel trapped in any particular danger at such an hour… if you call for me, I shall come personally, princess.” There was the faintest hint of emotion behind his otherwise stoic front, one that had you peering up at him hopefully.

Humming thoughtfully, a faintly amused smile ghosted over your lips as you turned to begin making your way to the dining room for breakfast. You barely had the chance to turn your back to him before he was pivoting on his heels and falling into step behind you.

“And how should you propose I do that, Sir Kamo? Shall I ring a bell for you?”

The man didn’t need to see your expression to note the teasing in your tone. Behind you, his deep baritone hummed briefly.

“If this is what your highness wishes of me, then I shall retrieve a bell.”

You prayed to any god that would hear you that your newly appointed knight would lighten up even if just a little. It seemed your prayers were in vain though, for each gruelling day over the coming weeks was nearly identical.

“Good morning, your highness.” Each time your chamber doors cracked open to begin your day.

“Good morning, Sir Kamo.” Each time you’d steal a sidelong glance at his stoic expression and rigid posture.

You thought Choso a perfectly acceptable knight; unwaveringly loyal and painfully aware of his— your surroundings, evident in the way his arm would cooly swipe in front of you each time there was so much as a pebble that threatened to tip your balance. He was also large enough to ward off any… unpleasant company that dared look your way.

“Advise me when you are finished, your highness.” He’d remind you each time he’d carefully tuck your chair in closer to the dining table during your meals before resuming his post a mere few feet away at the door.

“Thank you, Sir Kamo.” You’d always reply, having all but given up on your attempt to break that stone cold wall in front of him— slowly having come to terms with the notion that perhaps this was but a duty to him, and there was no reason to reciprocate such banter with his employer.

It wasn’t that Choso didn’t favor you per say, he simply couldn’t understand you. You, the princess who’s mother had been assassinated in cold blood a mere few months prior. The princess who was now forced to grieve such a loss with the added weight on your shoulders that the culprit had yet to be caught. The princess who he wasn’t quite sure was grieving at all, throwing jests at him and shedding nary a tear for her fate.

The knight sometimes wondered if he had taken the queen’s death more impactfully than you had.

It was not to say that your mother’s death had not impacted you. On the contrary, you felt constantly suffocated by the reminder of her. It was hung on each wall, in the glint of her portrait's eyes. It was in your smile each time you caught a glimpse of your reflection, and in your quick wit. It was in the footsteps that now trailed behind you each second of the day, a reminder of the gruesome fate she had been subjected to.

Still, there was business to be tended to. You had a mere day to allow the shock to settle into your bones, for you were immediately being pulled into the hearings, meetings, and planning. Your mother’s death had become a methodical scheme to assure the crown had the upper hand the next time the enemy should strike, and it was no longer your mother that had died.

It was simply the Queen.

So, it couldn’t sink deeper than the thinnest layer of your skin— not with the constant royal duties that had been hurdling the crown’s way in horribly rapid succession since the very second she passed. Certainly not with the constant reminder that your marrying and providing the kingdom an heir had now been pushed up to the forefront of your needed contributions to help secure the continued allegiance of the monarchy .

Choso hadn’t been privy to whatever meeting it was that had you bursting out the door he had been guarding for well over an hour, your face blazing with indignation and a fire within your step that he had yet to see from you in the few weeks that he had been appointed to you. He blinked slowly, ridding the barely veiled shock from his face before purposefully falling into place behind you with two long strides.

“Your highness—” The knight called out, watching cautiously as you made your way to the east side exit that would lead to the gardens, but your pace didn’t falter.

“I should like a moment to think.” Your words jumbled together almost nonsensically. He cast a sidelong glance at the stained-glass window to his right that had been on the receiving end of the dreadful torrential downpour occurring just outside the very door you were preparing to exit from.

“It is storming, Princess. You will catch your death out there—”

“A moment to think alone, Sir Kamo.” With your bitten response, you were bursting out the side doors, the ends of your dress gathered in your hands as you made your way to the marbled bench hidden in the midst of the wisteria trees.

The stream of furied rain was bearing down on your scalp, weighing down your hair to stick unceremoniously to your enraged face. Despite the way your dress now clung uncomfortably to your skin, the cool onslaught was a welcomed contrast to your current flush.

It took only a moment before you could hear the distinct sound of weighted steps following closely behind you as you sunk down onto the cool bench. Squeezing your eyes shut in frustration, you bit down on the inside of your cheek in an attempt to take a step back and remind yourself that he was only doing his job.

“It is raining, Sir Kamo.” You gritted through your teeth.

“It is, your highness.” He said simply, his voice raised ever so slightly so as to find your ears even through the storm.

Shifting around to look at him, you pursed your lips at the sight of his now drenched hair clinging to his sculpted cheekbones. His stance was diligent as usual though, showing no hint of discomfort in the midst of your stubbornness.

“Surely you should prefer to wait inside.” You ground out in hopes that he’d catch the hint. His face remained ever neutral though, showing no signs of moving any time soon. You scoffed indignantly at his stone-front. “May I not have even a minute of solitude?”

Choso was silent for a moment before shifting around to face the castle instead.

“Do what you must, princess. I shall be here.”

The forceful sinking of your teeth into your cheek began to draw blood, the weight of his presence— of everyone’s presence, becoming too much for you to bear. You had shouldered it all, the loss, the grief, the stripping of your privacy, the politicizing of your future and body, and you had mastered the art of indifference. Now though, with his stubbornness permeating the damp air around you like a twisted reminder of how your life would appear the rest of your life, your resolve was disintegrating under the heavy pellets of rain and Choso’s watchful eye.

A strangled sob broke past the barrier of your tight set lips. Raising a shaky hand in an attempt to shield your traitorous mouth, your efforts were proven futile as the grief continued washing over you in trembling waves of tears and choked cries. The frigid tips of your fingers curled into your dress as though to ground you from flying somewhere far, far away from all the meetings, the expectations, the protection.

The knight’s shoulders stiffened at the sound of your uncharacteristic cries, eyes widening ever so slightly. His head shifted with a careful subtly to the side to peer at you from his peripheral. At the sight of your heaving form, shaking shoulders, and distraught expression, he quickly faced forward once again, as though personally stung by the cruel edge of your grief.

You were unsure of how long you allowed your cries to take you hostage, but you knew you feared what you might find should you look up from the safety of your hands.

There was a soft shuffling that drew closer to you carefully, akin to a child attempting to gracefully catch a hare without alarming it of his presence. After a few stifling moments, you heard the distinct sound of armour clinking before you. Glancing up timidly from behind your hands, you found your knight knelt on the puddled ground.

His head was bowed down, drops of rain racing down the soaked strands of his bangs that had fallen from his tie. In his hand, being nearly equally pummeled by the storm, was a bushel of hydrangeas, the softest shade of periwinkle blues.

You stared wide-eyed at him for a moment.

His lashes shifted up after a beat too long of your silence, and he gazed apprehensively back at your unreadable expression. Licking his already soaked lips, his eyes fluttered between you and the flowers in his grasp.

“Excuse me if I have overstepped, your highness.” Choso’s hesitant voice trailed. “My… my mother used to tell me I should gift a grieving lady flowers, as she may at the very least pick at their petals as she ruminates.”

His gaze had cast back down to the ground in a boyish display of awkwardness, so he missed the way your gaze softened at his explanation. Taking a moment to study the flowers that he had picked from the bush just a mere couple feet away, you couldn’t hold back your tickled smile.

“Do you wish to kill me, Sir Kamo?”

At once, his head shot up to gaze incredulously at you.

“I-I beg your pardon, your highness?”

You couldn’t help but release a breathy laugh at the bewilderment resting on his handsome features. Sniffling softly, you nodded toward the flowers still clutched in his gloved palm.

“The hydrangeas— they disagree terribly with me.” You explained as you reached up to wipe at your swollen eyes. “Simply holding them swells my skin dreadfully.”

“I’m terribly sorry, princess.” Choso stammered out through rapidly flushing cheeks as he quickly tossed the bushel to the side. “I did not—”

“I suppose I will simply have to pick at your brain while I ruminate instead then, won’t I?” You halted his frantic mortification with a gentle smile, a barely disguised vulnerability shining behind your eyes with the hope that he wouldn’t turn you away when you desperately wanted someone to receive your words— someone without a political agenda to push onto you.

The knight’s mouth opened and closed in uncertainty as he processed your request. With a gentle nod, the corners of his lips creeped up into the whisper of a smile.

“If this is what your highness wishes of me.”

Through your tears, an appreciative smile graced your lips, one he thought looked radiant on your dewy skin. A long sigh slipped past your lips as your eyes drifted upward as though to hold back anymore tears from revealing themselves to him. He remained patiently kneeled before you, his gaze carefully observing your expression.

“My father wishes me to be wed, Sir Kamo.”

It was silent for a few beats as he processed your explanation, his dark brows twitching down in the most subtle of confusion. Pursing his lips for a moment as he contemplated his answer, he shook his head, droplets of rain falling from his nose with the movement.

“I apologize, Princess, however I was under the impression that your wedding was… an inevitable progression for your highness. I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“To eventually find a husband that I may grow to care for, yes.” You began, finally dropping your head back down to meet his gaze. There was a quiet attentiveness in them that you weren’t sure you had seen in a long time, always having been spoken to rather than listened to. “However to find a husband within the fortnight with the intention of bearing an heir within the month… that was not in my plans.”

“I… I see.” Choso released a slow breath, feeling his heart constrict at the predicament you were being forced into in the midst of your grieving nonetheless. The knight’s mind span with possible solutions, anything that might prove useful to you— anything that might save you from the dangers of uncertainty you were facing. He was quickly coming to the realization that this may be the one peril he couldn’t save you from. Choso couldn’t save you from your duty— not your father, not the crown. The only thing he could hope to offer was his saving you from facing it all in solitude, and that would simply have to do for now. So, he clenched and unclenched his jaw before placing an apprehensive hand atop of yours. “I’m sorry, Princess. I truly am.”

His subtle consolation had a fresh wave of tears brewing within your waterline, as though your soul felt safe enough now blanketed in his solace to release them. Your face scrunched up in a manner you thought surely must be unseenly, and you took him by surprise when you fell forward onto his shoulder. A hesitant rigidness overtook his frame, not quite sure what to do with his hands— not sure what was appropriate, even if your falling into his embrace could already be considered far from proper.

“What am I to do, Sir Kamo?” You cried desolately into his shoulder. “There is to be a ball within the fortnight, and I am to be paraded around as though a-a cattle prime for breeding.”

“I am certain your father must have a… perfectly acceptable list of suitors, your highness.” His attempt to ease you only caused your shoulders to tremble more. He squeezed his eyes shut at his own stupidity.

“And if I am forced to dance with an oaf of a man?”

“Then… then you shall ring your bell, and I shall come rescue you.”

This made your shoulders shake once again, but this time it was your harmonious laughter filling his ears rather than your cries, and it made him smile appreciatively, an odd sense of pride swelling in his chest at having been the cause of such a sweet song.

You pulled away from him to peer into his kind eyes, your hands steadied on his broad shoulders.

“Do you promise?” You questioned with a wobbly smile, one that was proving impossible not to return. Forgoing titles and properness, his gloved hand reached up to tenderly swipe at your undereyes.

“Until my last dying breath, your highness.”

In the midst of such an abrupt turn over of your life, there was at the very least some solace in the fact that Choso seemed to be becoming someone you could lean on for support.

The two of you didn’t speak much following your breakdown, as he insisted you move your episode indoors lest you grow ill from the rain. Despite your conversation being cut short, it was evident in the sopping walk back to your chambers that the air between you two had shifted. It felt lighter— less imposing.

So, when you woke the next morning, you were, for the first time since his appointment, actually eager to see him standing guard outside your door. Smoothing down your hair that your ladies insisted on oiling to the heavens the night prior with the sworn oath that rain water would ruin its shine, you pushed open the doors to your room.

“Good morning, your highness.”

“Good morning—” Your response halted as you took note of the drastically different voice greeting you. Looking up at the knight standing guard, you noted that it wasn’t your knight, but the one who typically stood guard in Choso’s place during the night. Blinking a few times at the blond man before you, your brows furrowed. “Pardon me, Sir, I was expecting Sir Kamo.”

The man nodded solemnly, and it was clear that he was desperate to be relieved, evident in the redness that shrouded the waterline of his hazel eyes.

“Sir Kamo has yet to report for duty, your highness.” He explained simply.

“He—” Your lips shut into a perplexed frown as you tried to recall a day when the man had ever been tardy. You were coming up short though, because while you never knew exactly when it was that Choso reported each morning, you knew he was always there before you woke. “That is most strange.”

“Perhaps he is simply running a bit late this morning, your highness.” The stand in before you offered, but you quickly shook your head.

“I’m afraid this is highly unlike him. Are you certain he is well?”

“I have yet to leave my post, your highness.”

You huffed in frustration, though the more rational side of you knew he was merely following orders. That gnawing feeling of unease wouldn’t allow you to accept such a nonchalant explanation though. Raising your chin in a display of feigned assertiveness, you nodded toward the blond.

“Take me to him.” You ordered simply.

“I… beg your pardon, your highness?”

“Take me to his chambers. I shall see if he is well.”

The knight’s eyes fluttered with apprehension, and he clenched uneasily at his fists.

“Pardon me, princess, however I’m afraid it is improper for a lady to enter the knights’ chambers. The king would surely have my head for allowing such a scene.”

“Well, Sir…” Your voice trailed as you raised your brow at him in question. He immediately bowed his head at you, whisps of his neatly kept hair falling upon his face.

“Nanami, your highness.”

“Sir Nanami,” You nodded curtly. “It is lucky that I have no intention of speaking a word of this to my father, just as I am certain you have no intention of standing guard for longer than you must this morning.”

The knight stood in contemplative silence for so long that you truly thought your efforts were going to be in vain, but after nearly two minutes, his lips pulled into a taut line.

“You have a promising future in politics, your highness.” Sir Nanami grumbled before nodding toward the west side of the hall.

Biting back a triumphant smile, you nodded in thanks before eagerly following after him. It was not long before you were stepping into a completely unfamiliar area of the castle. It floored you suddenly, how there were still areas untouched by your presence in the place you had lived in since birth. Your bottom lip caught between your teeth, and you were grateful that everyone had already departed their chambers for their duties that morning.

“I will keep watch here, your highness.” The blond informed firmly, but there was a hesitancy in his tone at the implications of the current scene before him. Nonetheless, he tore his weary gaze from the wooden door you two had stopped in front of. “Be sure not to linger long.”

Nodding ardently, you tried to calm your racing heart as anxiety pooled in the pits of your stomach. What if he had simply overslept? What would he think of your sudden intrusion into his space? Still, despite only having known him for a short while, the thought of such a slip simply did not pair with the image he’d formed in your mind.

With a final, calming breath out, the heavy door creaked open under your delicate hand. The air in the dim room was stifling even despite the way the curtains were doing their best to block out the sun’s rays. A small sliver still shone through, illuminating a modest path onto the wooden floors, revealing the boots that lay haphazardly tucked under the bed, to the small desk against the wall adorned with messily strewn about parchment, all the way to the disheveled sheets on the bed.

Your breath hitched as you followed that fated trail of light up to where your knight remained sprawled out, sheets tangled carelessly through his legs as though he had been tossing and turning restlessly for hours. It was unmooring, seeing the typically well kept and fierce man in such a state, with his usually neatly tied hair loose and clinging to his clammy forehead as a fevered flush overtook cheeks.

The door fell shut behind you, not imposing enough to wake him, but enough to make his brows furrow as he shifted uncomfortably on his mattress. Your breath hitched at the sudden movement, leaving you frozen in your spot by the door. It wasn’t until your heartbeat had subtly steadied from its distracting rushing through your ears, and you were able to hear the ragged labor of his breaths that you snapped from your stupor.

“Sir Kamo?” You called out hesitantly, a slight tremble in your voice as you carefully stepped forward.

The man only groaned softly, a strained cough sputtering from his lips. As you drew closer to the bed, and your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, you took in the sight of his chest, typically shielded by layers of armour, now bared to you in all its scarred and chiseled glory. Your lips parted at the sight, never before having seen a man so exposed to you before, let alone one you were alone with.

Forcing yourself to concentrate on the task at hand, you pulled your gaze from his broad chest back to his glistening face. Taking the last couple of steps until your hip grazed the edge of his bed, you reached out to press a hesitant hand against his forehead. His face scrunched at the sensation, a sharp breath being sucked in through his teeth.

“You fool.” You cursed under your breath upon feeling the unseemly heat radiating off his skin. A gnawing guilt began eating away at the pits of your stomach, knowing that your little outburst the day prior had put him in this predicament.

Leaning a trembling hand onto the mattress by his hip in an attempt to brush the hairs from his forehead and get a better feel, the bed creaked under the shifted weight. An incoherent mumble fell from his lips, and his dark lashes fluttered against his cheek bones before his eyes slowly cracked open. They were beary and bloodshot as they peered back at you in a daze.

“Your… your highness?” His strained voice croaked out quietly, brows knitted together as though he was still trying to process whether you were truly here or simply a mirage conjured up from his fevor-induced stupor.

“Sir Kamo, you are burning up.” Your panicked voice seemed to bring reality crashing back down onto his sore muscles, and his dewy eyes widened at once.

“Y-Your highness!” Choso stammered out as he sat up with a start despite the way his aching bones were screaming in protest. The sheet that had been at the very least partially covering his chest slipped down his torso to pool in his lap, though he seemed far too frenzied to notice. “I overslept! Y-You’re— You mustn't be here, Princess. This is—”

“You must lay back, Sir.” You ordered, your comparably cold hands finding their way to his athletic shoulders to push him back down onto his pillow to no avail as he fought against your grip. The sensation of your skin on his seemed to remind him of his state of undress, the flush on his cheeks growing a few shades darker.

“This is terribly inappropriate, your highness.” Your knight stated with a fervent shake of his head, and he blamed it on his feverish state that he could swear he saw your eyes drifting down the newly exposed expanse of his rippling abdomen. “You must leave, and I must relieve Sir Nanami. Your father will have my—”

“My father will not hear a word of this.” You emphasized with a final shove to his chest, and he was falling back against the mattress with a vicious cough.

Leaving a warning hand on his firm pectoral lest he try to get back up, you reached down with your free hand to grasp at the washcloth hanging off the side of the water basin beside his bed. The sight of the already half-filled basin made you wonder how long he had been suffering his symptoms alone that night. Dunking it in before wringing it out as best as you could with one hand, you carefully brought the cool cloth up to rest on his scorching forehead.

He flinched back subtly from the sudden frigid touch, but it only took mere seconds before his shoulders were slumping back against his pillow, the worried line between his brows slowly relaxing in relief. Licking at his parched lips, he stared back at you hazily.

“I must resume my duties, Princess.” Choso fought weakly, though he made no move to stray away from the caress of the cool cloth you were running tenderly down his cheek and jawline. “You mustn't be without protection.”

“You will serve no use to me in such a state.” You assured softly, smiling apologetically when he jolted ever so slightly as the cloth dragged down his neck. His chest fell with a defeated breath, and his eyes seemed to drift shut lazily against his will. The hand that had since been lingering on his chest traversed up to carefully brush the damp hairs from his face, and you selfishly took the opportunity to ghost the tips of your fingers over the jagged scar across his nose curiously. “I should have stayed inside as you instructed.”

“Nonsense, my princess,” He mumbled out through his daze, eyes cracking open to gaze gingerly at you. “I would follow you anywhere.”

Your lips parted at the tenderness of his words, whether they were conjured from his fever-riddled mind or not. If he took note of the sudden flush in your cheeks, he made no mention of it as he fought to keep his eyes open.

“Yes, I suppose so.” You breathed out with a soft shake of your head. “Rest now.”

“Who will watch over you, your highness?”

“You have watched over me, and now I shall watch over you. Sleep now, Sir Kamo.” You assured gently, watching with a melting heart as the corners of his lips twitched up into the ghost of a smile at the sound of his title rolling from your tongue. His eyes finally drifted shut.

“If this… is what your highness wishes of me.”

Choso was back to his post the very next morning. Albeit, he still had a certain mist over his eyes that evidenced his waning illness, however he was there nonetheless. The both of you made no mention of the way you stayed with him that day prior, watching over him just as you had promised. Still, there was a humble appreciation glimmering in his eyes as he bid you a good morning, one that complimented the subtle flush in his cheeks charmingly as he recalled the state you had found him in.

Thanks to the unspoken bond of trust that had forged between you two, the days leading up to your father’s proposed ball failed to drag on as dreadfully as you had anticipated. At the very least, your knight seemed to understand when the planning and the fittings were becoming too much for you, never questioning it when you made your way out to that familiar bench in the garden.

He was often tempted to ask about your mother— if you had the proper chance to grieve her, how you seemed to be holding up so well, if anyone had told you what had truly happened—

“It seems your head is in the clouds, Sir Kamo.” Your gentle muse pulled him from his thoughts. “Is something on your mind?”

Blinking a few times to rid the hazed mist that had fallen over his eyes, Choso peered down at you in a fluster. Gulping down the apprehension at the very thought of the topic, he tried to gather his thoughts before his lips parted.

“My apologies, your highness. I simply wonder…” His voice trailed once you shifted your attention to him fully.

The subtle movement had the sun’s beams reflecting off your observant eyes, emphasized etherally by the tranquil smile stretching across your plump lips. You tilted your head at him in question, as it was rare that he ever picked at your disarrayed brain. A loose curl of your hair drifted across your face, making your nose scrunch up as the strand tickled the skin there.

One corner of his lip twitched up instinctively at the sight. His hand flexed apprehensively beside him once, then twice, before he was carefully reaching out to tuck the strand back behind your ear. It was well within his duty— was it not? To protect you of whatever might ail you, even if it was a mere lock of your traitorous hair. Why then, did this feel less like his duty, and more like his burning desire for your face to remain unrestricted to his covetous eyes?

“You wonder… what my ladies put in my hair to make it shine so gracefully, perhaps?” You teased with a dramatic flip of your hair and waggle of your brows.

He huffed out a breathless laugh, reveling in the way your eyes creased at the corners with the force of your glee. It suddenly felt wrong of him to remind you that you were meant to be grieving— not when you had found even a singular moment of solace from the whirlwind of events that had been hurled your way as of late. So, he offered a resigned smile and nodded solemnly.

“Yes, your highness. You must forgive me, as it must have slipped my mind that a lady mustn’t share her secrets to those who behold their rewards.”

“Oh, what a shame!” You groaned mockingly, though there was a hint of truth behind your exasperated tone. Standing from your designated spot on the bench, you began walking back toward the castle before leaning your head back to peer at your knight. “I should only wish that my father’s chosen suitors will have half the consideration you do, Sir Kamo.”

Your words sunk into his chest, adding phantom kilos to his already hefty armor. Gulping down the tension that had begun to constrict his throat, he pulled himself from his haze in order to follow after you diligently with a resigned murmur.

“As do I, Princess.”

Truthfully, he wasn’t sure when or why you had stopped vehemently opposing this arrangement, but Choso was quickly coming to terms with the fact that he would perhaps never understand your peculiar method of coping. It was only mere days ago when you had been wailing into his shoulder in utter disarray over the very ball you were eagerly filling him in on the details of now.

He tried desperately to keep up with the sudden shifts in your mood, but he was coming up short. At the very least, the knight was relieved to see you in presumably better spirits than that dreaded day, as he wasn’t sure he could handle the thought of having to drag you out to that ball kicking and screaming.

It had been hours now that your ladies had been filtering in and out of your room that long awaited day, each looking a bit more frazzled than the last. He had lost count of the amount of times he’d had to excuse himself from their thunderous paths, or the amount of times he’d simply been shoved out of the way.

There had been a select few instances when the door would be left open for a breath too long, and he’d find himself tilted his head back ever so slightly in hopes he’d catch a glimpse of whatever witchcraft they seemed to be performing on you. The closest he’d gotten was seeing just a whisper of your hair before the door would be shut once again.

Sure, he’d be branded a heretic if he said he wasn’t dying to see the princess all adorned and fixed up like a true heiress. Truthfully though, he had been dying to get one genuine answer out of you before the night began. Your sudden nonchalance and feigned indifference in contrast to how terribly you had initially taken the news simply wasn’t sitting right in his chest, and it was killing him to know you felt the need to hide it, wallowing in your suffering alone in that labrynth you called a mind.

Choso hadn’t even noticed when the ladies stopped bustling in and out of your room, simply noting that it had been quiet now for some time.

Your door cracked open after some time though, your timid voice following.

“Sir Kamo?”

“Your highness,” The knight greeted as he quickly pivoted to face the door you were peeking your head out from. “Do you wish for me to call upon your ladies?”

“Actually,” You murmured out apprehensively, and he was finally taking note of the subtle ways your features seemed to pop dramatically in contrast to when he had last committed them to memory. “I should like your counsel. Come— make haste.”

He took a step back as your door swung ajar, shaking his head firmly.

“This is hardly appropriate, your highness.”

“Hardly implies a certain semblance of properness at the very least, and that shall do for now. Come now, Sir Kamo.”

“Just as I hardly believe your father will accept such rationality when he makes a eunuch of me.” He mumbled doubtfully under his breath as you hooked your delicate fingers into his chest plate to all but yank him into your quarters.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, your highness.”

The heavy door fell shut with a soft thud behind him as he readjusted his chest plate in lieu of your manhandling. Finally looking up from his begrudged fumbling, his words caught in his throat. Whatever unspirited vision he had conjured in his mind of what you might look like presenting yourself tonight could have been considered blasphemous gossip compared to the sight standing before him.

The ornate lace details of your dress held a faint glimmer that shone in the moonlight peeking in through your window. It cast a celestial glow upon your carefully crafted face, the one with cheeks rosier than their baseline, with lips rouged in a manner that drew the attention of any sensible man that might behold you tonight.

Your hair, which he had grown so accustomed to seeing loose and free after your ladies had given up their hopes on you not picking at your styles throughout the day, was gracefully gathered at your nape and woven through with ornate gems that almost rivaled the shimmer in your eyes. There were a few strands purposefully left out to frame your delicate face, the tips of the curls brushing against your cheekbones as you peered up at him expectantly.

Something— surely the man who spent years in rigorous training to sharpen that poise and regality he prided himself on should have anything graceful to say to the princess he had sworn an oath to, but words appeared utterly lost on him as his dark eyes dragged over your form.

“Well?” You questioned in a fluster, grasping anxiously at your elbows as you chewed on the already mangled flesh inside your cheek. “Do I look foolish?”

“You look…” Choso pursed his lips as though to hold back what his mind so desperately wanted to say, because if he allowed himself the truth of his convictions, he wasn’t sure he’d let you leave for that ball. “Like a dream, your highness.”

A gentle scoff fell from your lips, and you quickly turned to face the mirror and busy yourself with mindlessly smoothing down your gown in an attempt to disguise your flustered state.

“Well versed in flattery, I see.” Your bashful dismissal made him frown, stepping forward as though prepared to reach out to you, but he instead clenched his fists at his sides.

“I do not—” The knight stopped himself with a dismissive shake of his head. It mattered not for him to prove himself to you now. All he truly desired from you before escorting you down to that ball was a modicum of sincerity. “Are you feeling well, Princess?”

You peered up at him from his reflection in the mirror, where he stood tall behind you, eyes ablaze with a concern you couldn’t quite place. Quickly tearing your gaze away from his weighted stare, you fiddled with your earring.

“Do I look unwell? I thought I looked a dream, Sir.” You teased, but he could see the tremble hidden beneath your forced smile.

Your breath hitched when you felt his hand wrap gently around your elbow, turning you to face him. His brows kissed together as he searched your expression for any semblance of something genuine.

“I don’t understand, your highness.” Choso shook his head softly, and you found yourself instinctively lowering your gaze to escape his. As though remembering his place, he abruptly lowered the hand that had found residence on your arm. “If you are frightened, then be frightened. I cannot help you if you do not tell me what troubles you.”

The plush of your bottom lip trembled ever-so-slightly at his words, as though they acted as a stark reminder of the feelings you had grown to repress over the past few days. Picking at the bodice of your dress, you shrugged your shoulders.

“Will it matter?” You questioned with a desolate raise of your head. Your eyes darted over his face in barely concealed frustration. “When I grieved my mother, I was still to attend meetings, and I was to see to building back up the hope that her death had eradicated from our people. Just the same, Sir Kamo, I am still to attend this ball, and I am still to find a husband. So, I must ask again— should it matter if I am positively trembling with fear at the very thought of it?”

The knight’s taut expression gradually relaxed in understanding, but your carefully guarded confession didn’t have the same effect on his heartstrings that yearned to wrap themselves around you and shield you from whatever may be placing that worried frown on your lips.

“It matters to me, your highness.” Choso responded firmly, though his voice was low enough to provide that comforting baritone you were quickly growing so fond of. Stepping just a hair closer to you, he hesitated once before continuing. “I know it may never be enough to shoulder the burden that’s been unjustly placed on you, but you must know— it matters very much to me.”

At once, you felt the weeks worth of repressed feelings bubbling up at the surface, and, much like all the times before, now simply wasn’t the right time nor place to release them, even if your knight’s loyal solitude was transforming into the only place you wished to place your bags down at.

Still, you nodded softly, and he understood it despite your silence, one of his arms raising hesitantly in invitation. You took it at once, grasping at his forearm to press yourself into his shoulder with a shuddering breath. A sob threatened to slip past your lips, but you cut it short with a purposeful grunt.

“You will ruin my ladies’ diligent work.” Your strained voice still attempted to jest with him, making him huff out a soft laugh.

Pulling you away just enough to be at arm’s length, Choso made quick work to remove his gloves before placing his pointer fingers to lay just under your eyes to capture any traitorous tears that dared to escape.

“Look up, princess.” He ordered gently, and you did so without question, only a fleeting wonder of when you had placed so much of your trust into him.

“I am scared, Sir Kamo.” You whispered desolately with your eyes pointed toward the ceiling. “I-I wanted to meet someone as though in… I don’t know— in a fairytale, as juvenile as it may sound.”

Your warm, trembling breath fanned out against his neck as you brought your hands up to rest on his forearms as though to ground yourself. For a moment, your eyes drifted back down to meet him once again. They were illuminated by your unshed tears, wide and uncertain as they gazed into his.

“It was meant to be the one thing I could choose for myself.”

“It still is, your highness.” Choso insisted, but you quickly shook your head with a bitter smile.

“It is not, for if that were true than I—” You stopped yourself, your lips paused around the unspoken words that hung thickly in the air around you.

You were well aware of what was prepared to leave your mouth, and he was well aware of what he hoped it was. Both of you allowed this juxtaposition to linger freely in the small space between you, free of the burden of explanation or analysis. The knight smiled wistfully. Dragging his fingers carefully under your eyes, he allowed his hands to linger on either side of your face for perhaps a beat too long before he pulled himself away, suddenly moving to fiddle under his sleeve.

“You needn’t be afraid, Princess.” He offered with a small yet encouraging smile. “I shall be only a call away throughout the night.”

“Yes, as I’m sure my shouting upon my knight to come rescue me from a less than favorable suitor will smooth over very well for my family name.” You laughed with a quiet sniffle as you worked to pull yourself together once again.

It was then that Choso held up a thin ribbon within your line of sight, the small jingle that followed the movement making your brows furrow. Finally focusing on the delicate charm hanging in the middle of it, you couldn’t hold back the positively unlady-like snort that escaped you.

“Is that—”

“It is, your highness.” He nodded eagerly, proud to have elicited such a genuine reaction from you. “You needn’t shout. Simply ring your bell, and I shall be by your side at once. The oafs will be none the wiser.”

Despite the giggles of disbelief that were shaking at your shoulders, there was an undeniable warmth spreading through your chest at his consideration, of the notion that he had thought about you even when you two were apart.

“May I?” His request pulled you from your thoughts, and you nodded ardently as you presented your wrist to him.

His movements were delicately calculated as he carefully tied the cream colored ribbon around your wrist, securing it with a neat bow. With a triumphant smile, he looked up to gauge your reaction. Your gaze was focused on the small bell though, and how his grip lingered on your arm, his fingers kissing the sensitive skin under it absentmindedly.

Pulling yourself back down to reality, you shook your head with a tiny, dismissive smile as you wiggled your wrist to test out your new makeshift bracelet.

“Will you be able to hear such a tiny thing, Sir?” You questioned doubtfully with a teasing quirk of your brow.

“If it is attached to you, I shall be able to pick it out of even the most boisterous of crowds, your highness.” Choso’s reassurance had an air of nonchalance to it as though he truly didn’t intend for it to weigh on you as much as it did, but perhaps that was what made him so undeniably special. It simply seemed to come so easily to him.

Forgoing shame and formality, you reached up on the tips of your toes to wrap your arms around his neck, a fresh set of tears threatening to form once again. From over his shoulder, you had to blink up pathetically at the ceiling to stop them from coming. The man pressed against you stood stunned in his place, arms hanging stiffly at his sides.

“Do you promise?” You whispered hopelessly, the gentle puff of your breath on his ear sending shivers down his spine.

Deciding he had withstood temptation beyond the limit of an ordinary man, he allowed his head to drift to the side, his nose burying softly into the carefully woven locks of your hair. Choso’s lashes fluttered shut as your increasingly familiar scent filled his senses, and he resisted the urge to press a kiss onto your temple simply to know what you would feel like against his lips.

“Until my last dying breath, my princess.”

part two is already halfway done I PROMISE

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