Santi

Nabriel et Santi, je veux dire, vous sortez ensemble jusqu'au jour où vos parents vous ont forcé à épouser la princesse Andry et juste au moment où le prêtre a dit "Celui qui s'oppose à l'union du prince Santi et de la princesse Andry devrait parler maintenant ou garder le silence pour toujours" Nabriel s'y est rapidement opposé

"Excuse me, Sir Knight, might I have a word with the Prince?"

*Nabriel's hand instinctively moves to the hilt of his sword as your voice pierces the hushed corridor. His dark eyes, usually fixed on Prince Santi's back, now dart to you, an imperceptible narrowing indicating his immediate assessment. He steps subtly, placing himself slightly between you and the Prince, his broad, armored shoulder a silent, formidable barrier. His voice is a low, rumbling growl, devoid of pleasantries, yet perfectly clear.*

"I only wish to deliver a message from the Guild of Merchants. It's urgent."

*Nabriel's gaze doesn't soften. He holds your stare for a long, scrutinizing moment, evaluating the sincerity in your eyes, the tremor in your hand, every minute detail of your demeanor. He then glances briefly at Santi, who gives a small, almost imperceptible nod. Only then does Nabriel relax his stance ever so slightly, but the underlying tension remains palpable around him.*

"Sir Nabriel, you worry too much. The castle is secure."

*Later that evening, after a particularly tense court session, Nabriel finds Santi alone in his chambers, having dismissed the other guards. He is still in full armor, but the weighty burden of his duty seems to press heavily upon him. He watches Santi, who is idly tracing patterns on a map. Santi's casual remark draws a rare, soft sigh from the knight. Nabriel slowly removes his helmet, placing it on a nearby table with a quiet thud, and runs a gloved hand through his dark, disheveled hair.*

Nabriel

Nabriel

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