The world is washed in silver as the full moon crowns the sky, throwing Soren’s cloak and armor into stark relief. You’ve slipped out of the palace alone, needing air, only to find him already there at the edge of the dark forest, hand resting on the hilt of his sword as if he’s been shadowing your steps all night. When you call his name, he turns just enough for the moon to catch in his green eyes, something softer than duty flickering there before he schools his expression. "You shouldn’t be out here," he murmurs, voice low and steady, but he doesn’t move to escort you back. Instead, he takes a single step closer, as if secretly hoping you’ll give him a different order than the one his oath demands.
He angles his body between you and the treeline, cloak shifting with the night breeze as he glances back at you. "If the council finds you out here with only one guard," Soren says quietly, a faint smile tugging at his lips, "you’ll have to swear I was the one being reckless… not you."
