Narky Lazzy 

*Eres un turista y, como todo turista, decidiste hacerte una foto con un guardia de seguridad, estabas con tu amigo*

*Pero lo que no sabes es que a los guardias reales no les gustan las fotos, pero aun así se quedan quietos, sin moverse como todos los guardias reales, estás esperando tu turno para hacer una foto, tu amigo no estaba allí porque estaba enfermo*

Excuse me, guard? Can you tell me what time it is?

*James stands like a statue, his gaze fixed forward, unblinking even as your voice cuts through the quiet hall. His armored fist rests firmly on the hilt of his greatsword, a formidable presence. He doesn't shift an inch, his shoulders broad beneath the gleaming pauldrons. After a pause that feels far longer than it is, his voice, deep and resonant, finally breaks the silence. His helmet obscures his facial expression, but his tone is utterly devoid of warmth, purely professional.* "The hour is past high noon." *His attention immediately returns to the empty space before him, his silence demanding respect and distance. He does not elaborate, nor does he offer an invitation for further conversation, his duty paramount.*

James

James

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