King V

"Stop following me," Viktor's demand echoed through the quiet corridor, a plea for solitude that carried the weight of an unspoken burden. His strides were deliberate, a solitary figure navigating the shadows of the castle halls.

"I'm sorry, I can't do that," replied Kanan, his footsteps maintaining a respectful distance behind Viktor. The knight's voice, firm yet tinged with a sense of duty, resonated with a loyalty that transcended the boundaries of mere assignment. "It is my duty to be with you after all."

Viktor, the son of the king, bore the weight of both privilege and responsibility. The castle walls, adorned with the echoes of whispered intrigues and hidden agendas, seemed to close in around him. His every step was a declaration of independence, a yearning for a space where the expectations of royalty could momentarily be shed.

Kanan, clad in the armor of the kingdom, remained a steadfast guardian, his duty etched in the lines of his unwavering gaze. The oath he had sworn to protect the king's son bound him to Viktor's side, a silent sentinel in the intricate dance of courtly machinations.

The castle's torches cast flickering shadows on the stone walls as Viktor continued his solitary journey, each step carrying the weight of unspoken burdens. The air hung heavy with the scent of intrigue, a palpable tension that mirrored the complexities of Viktor's royal lineage.

Kanan, ever watchful, navigated the delicate balance between loyalty and discretion. His duty extended beyond the physical realm; it was a silent vow to shield Viktor from the political machinations that sought to entangle him in the intricate web of courtly affairs.

As Viktor halted in a secluded alcove, he turned to face Kanan. "Why must you be with me at all times?" he questioned, a flicker of frustration in his eyes.

"It is not just a duty," Kanan responded, his gaze unwavering. "It is a pledge to ensure your safety and well-being, especially in these tumultuous times."

Viktor, caught between the expectations of his lineage and the desire for personal freedom, found himself grappling with the complexities of his role. The castle, a bastion of power and intrigue, seemed to bear witness to the silent struggles playing out within its walls.

Kanan hesitated, his resolve warring with the weight of unspoken truths. As Viktor, continued his solitary stride, Kanan knew he could no longer keep silent. With a steadying breath, he approached his charge, his words measured yet laden with a sense of urgency.

"If I may express my intuition, Your Highness," Kanan spoke, his voice a steady resonance amid the castle's quiet corridors, "you should beware of one of your classmates."

Viktor, taken aback by Kanan's abrupt warning, felt a surge of restlessness grip his core. The nameless specter of caution lingered in the air, casting a pall over the alcove where they stood. The castle, a bastion of power and intrigue, seemed to close in, its stone walls concealing the myriad secrets that lurked within.

For Kanan, the decision to breach the bounds of his duty weighed heavily upon him. As a knight sworn to protect the king's son, he bore the weight of responsibility for Viktor's safety and well-being. Yet, the gnawing intuition that gnawed at his conscience compelled him to speak, to heed the whispers of instinct that echoed in the depths of his soul.

"Now you want to meddle with whom I incorporate with," Viktor's response was tinged with anger, his frustration bubbling to the surface like molten fury. The sudden intrusion into his personal affairs ignited a tempest within him, a storm of conflicting emotions that raged against the constraints of his royal lineage.

Kanan, undeterred by Viktor's frustration, maintained a steadfast demeanor. "My intention is not to meddle, Your Highness, but to ensure your safety," he explained, his gaze unwavering. "In these perilous times, the currents of deceit run deep, and caution is a shield against unseen threats."

Viktor's anger propelled him forward, his strides echoing through the castle corridor like the thunderous beat of a war drum. Ignoring Kanan's presence, he quickened his pace, his mind consumed by a tempest of conflicting emotions. Together, they entered the knight king training ground, the air crackling with the energy of combat and discipline.

Only now did Kanan realize their surroundings, his attention previously consumed by the task of keeping up with the prince's relentless stride. As they stepped onto the training ground, a subtle unease settled in Kanan's chest. Here, amidst the clashing of swords and the shouts of combatants, this was a potential minefield of unwanted encounters.

Before Kanan could voice his concerns, a familiar figure approached, cutting through the throng of trainees with the grace of a seasoned warrior. It was Brayan, his presence a reminder of the tangled webs of loyalty and obligation that bound them all.

"Greetings, Your Highness," Brayan's voice rang out, his tone respectful as he acknowledged Viktor before turning his attention to Kanan. "Forgive the interruption, but it has been a while since our paths last crossed, Knight Kanan. Since the events of the 'Selection,' if memory serves."

Kanan's jaw tensed at the mention of the past, his memories of the tumultuous events of the 'Selection' stirring like embers within him. With a curt nod, he acknowledged Brayan's greeting, his demeanor guarded as he braced himself for the inevitable conversation that would follow.

"It has indeed been some time," Kanan replied, his tone clipped and abrupt. Despite his efforts to brush Brayan away with his terse response, the seasoned knight remained undeterred, his gaze steady as he awaited further clarification.

In an attempt to shift the trajectory of the conversation, Kanan, ever the tactician, pivoted the discourse toward Brayan's well-being. "And how have you fared since the 'Selection,' Brayan?" Kanan inquired, a subtle shift in focus evident in his questioning.

Brayan, perceptive to the maneuver, acknowledged the attempt to redirect the dialogue. His response, however, conveyed a readiness to engage in the exchange, he chose not to let the evasion pass unnoticed. "Your concern is appreciated, Kanan," Brayan responded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Yet, I sense a certain reluctance in your questions. Is there something you are hesitant to discuss?"

As Brayan continued the verbal exchange, delving into inquiries about Kanan's well-being, Kanan responded with a series of terse answers. Each question posed by Brayan was met with a calculated brevity, a defense mechanism wielded with precision to shield the knight's innermost thoughts.

The training ground, a theater of clashing blades and honing skills, became an unlikely backdrop to the silent confrontation between Kanan and Brayan. The combatants engaged in practice mirrored the subtle tension that underscored the verbal sparring between the two knights.

Yet, unbeknownst to Kanan, the absence of Viktor lingered like a shadow on the periphery of his awareness.