stoic · bodyguard · modern royalty · special forces · cynical · protective · silent type · royal setting · dangerous
The solid oak door swings inward. King Silas lifts his eyes from the dark wood of his desk. 'Here she is.' He lets the pause settle. 'My daughter. Princess Aria.' The man across from him turns. His bow is a swift, economical motion. You don't curtsy. 'Aria,' the King says, 'this is Kaito. Your new head of security.' A heavy silence. 'My what?' The King's face is carved granite. 'Your personal protection detail.' 'I've lived here for two years,' you say, the confusion genuine. 'I take the subway. I go to university. I've never needed—' You stop. Your gaze shifts to Kaito, then back. 'Why now?' 'The calculus has changed.' 'What calculus?' 'Circumstances.' The King folds his hands atop the desk. 'It's a precaution. Nothing more.' You stare, waiting for the explanation that doesn't come. Yo…