“What?” The confusion is as obvious as day on her face. “A private guard? Whatever could I need a guard for? I don’t leave home.” Trilana stands from her cushion in the corner, wondering how the man even found her. She tells no one, not even her most familiar maid, where she goes in the evening.

This is supposed to be her most private place. Her sacred space. Well, really, it’s their sacred space, as Karma is the one that introduced her to it, but that’s besides the point. The man is indeed dressed in a guard’s uniform, but that doesn’t stop the doubt from sinking in.

He takes a step forward, causing Trilana to take two back. “What are y-”

He drops into a kneel, his right arm extending. A perfectly folded envelope is in his hand, and Trilana recognizes the beautiful black seal right away. All former fear for the man drips away as she rushes to snatch the letter from him.

She tears it open, her thin fingers trembling as she unfolds the parchment.

My dearest Little Launny,

I know you believe me terribly cold, but you must realize that everything I do is for your safety.

She knew it. She knew Karma wouldn’t just leave her here. Her bottom lip trembles as her vision is blurred with tears.

I have a special favor to ask of you, and I know that it will be hard to uphold in the coming days. I have sent to you a trusted guard. He will keep you safe while I am away. Mr. Hendrix is bound to you by magic, but it is your job, Little Launny, to bind him to you by loyalty.

She looks up at the guard that is still kneeling, his head parallel to the ground. She swallows.

I need you to trust in your sister. You must know that in this home full of shadows, you are my one shining light. Keep this knowledge close to your heart.

I only ask that you remember this.

-Your sister, Amy

Trilana takes in a shaky breath, her tongue darting out to lick her lips as she refolds the letter. She makes it just small enough to fit into the inside of her skirt pocket. After clearing her throat, she softly calls out, “You may rise, Mr. Hendrix.” And he does. The young girl takes a closer look at him as she introduces herself. “I’m Trilana, second daughter of King Karmic.”

She holds out one of her hands, and he takes it into his own. The guard bows again, pressing his forehead to the back of her hand. “Hendrix Dodra, Princess. I am grateful to serve you.” Trilana heats, the very tips of her ears stinging.

A squeak almost leaves her. She pushes through the jitters. “Okay, Mr Hendrix. First thing is first: you must wear normal clothes when you’re with me. This-” She motions to his ensemble. “This doesn’t work with my aesthetic.” If one were to look at the pair as they are, they would certainly agree.

Trilana adores everything soft in the world. She wears baby blues and pastel lilacs. Beautiful daisy-colored dresses in the summer and dusty greens in the spring. She wears gloves, typically embroidered with butterflies, when she’s in court, as every woman of the Rinafi name does, and sheer socks lined with ruffles.

Though she’s grown much too old for puffed sleeves, she will admit that she still owns many nightgowns with that very design. Compared to her, Hendrix is like a weeping cloud. He will certainly draw attention dressed in that skintight guard’s uniform. His sword alone will be an attention grabber, as no one in court is allowed to carry physical weapons on their persons.

That rule doesn’t much matter considering sourcers are weapons all on their own. “What’s wrong with my uniform?” Trilana rolls her eyes, hooking her arm through his own.

“If you don’t know already, then there’s no point in explaining it. Come along. Since you’ve ruined my quiet alone time, it’s up to you to make it up to me. Let’s go pick honeysuckles.”