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doodle-pops · 9 months

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Promises of Tomorrow, Today

Royal Guard!Beleg x reader

A/N: I just love the idea of Beleg serving as a Royal Guard and then falling in love with some angst :) Can't tell you how proud I am of this fic >.<

Warnings: flashbacks, mentions of nudity, suggestive, mentions of premarital sex, groping each other in semi-public, talks and plans of eloping, kissing/making out, mentions of faking death, arguments, Beleg and reader are displayed as mortals in this AU

Words: 3.7k

Synopsis: Breaking his oath and choosing death as his punishment, Beleg faces a crisis where matters of the heart refuse to accept his self-made trial, and a second chance for love to bloom without fear and the looming of oaths and death.

Citizens of state,

By decree of His Royal Majesty, all males over

the age of sixteen are to come forth and present

themselves as soldiers for the upcoming war.

You are tasked with the honourable duty

of protecting your women and children,

young and old, helpless and sick.

On this day forth, you are reqired to give your name

and dedicate your life to your Kingdom

The King

The first time you heard those words, there was no reaction from you, none whatsoever. You stood in the stone archway of the city hall with your Royal Guard to your right, listening to every word your father carefully chose to announce his declaration of the upcoming war. It was considered normal for a Kingdom to witness war, yours suffering two and surviving the aftermath for many years, it was a part of the entire order of ruling. There were few who were blessed to remove themselves far away from the constant chaos the realms would throw themselves into. Whether it be for a lover or wealth and riches or for an old family feud, most of the time, your home found itself participating due to its allegiances with many.

When the true meaning of the war struck you, there wasn’t anything you could do. Watching the countless young boys—maturity had not graced them—carrying the weight of the sharp and polished metal in their hands, accompanied by silver garnishing them from head to toe, your stomach lurched. Many of the faces you sullenly observed as you strolled through the courtyard were grim and hollow. Your father was sending hungry men out there to fight for your home. What little strength could they possibly have to swing a sword and defend their possessions?

Their stringed arms swung about the air attempting to strike at the wooden dummies, others, at their living target. Anyone could see the fear and weakness these men possessed. How could your father possess thousands of skilled and battle–hardened warriors but still require the lesser and meek people? Was there, not enough pain and suffering by sending skilled warriors who were sons, fathers and brothers? They were dancing with one foot in their grave with death.

But even you would come to hurt with them as well.

Your eyes scanned the area for that familiar mop of silver, but your heart dropped at the loss of his figure. There was no glimpse of him anywhere. Deep down, you knew he would be hiding from you, slowly retracting his presence and passing your protection to another Royal Guard he trusted while he disappeared. His name was known for being the best at the tournaments, having knocked countless of their horses and leaving many broken and battered. His speed and agility had caught your father’s eyes, but it was his charming smile he cast when he caught your floral bouquet during the standing ovation. None but yours has captured his eyes…and heart so much, that in his haste, he bent the knee and pledged his servitude to your house.

Your Royal Guard.

He followed you everywhere you went, standing five steps behind and always at your beck and call.

Rounding the corner and coming to an empty tunnel, your footsteps echoed before you came to another to your right and there he stood. His posture was rigid and straight. His left hand was on the hilt of his sword and his right was limp at his side. You knew he already sensed you—he called it his keen animalistic senses the Gods blessed him with—yet he made no move alerting you of his knowhow. His eyes remained ahead as he watched the autumn leaves fall to the ground and transform into a boat in the puddles. Autumn was his favourite season…no, it was spring, but it became his favourite after your confession and dance in the rain. He hated the cold, but when he met you, it became his hymn.

Heels clicking in the distance as you approached him, the corners of your lips upturned as you covered the grounds and appeared at his right side. Neither of you said anything as you observed strong gusts of wind tearing the fragile leaves of the trees and scattering them about without a care. You wished to reach out and hold him, touch him in any way before you parted. Your last with him was months ago and he dared to not touch you again until everything was over. All you had were fragmented memories of lying on a pile of straws in a hidden room.

The cool summer wind curled through the vents of the old storage mill while you and Beleg lay curled up beside each other bare. An old tarp was laid on the ground for you both to sleep on while his cloak covered you, mostly the lower regions. His left arm acted as his pillow while his right did the same for you. Your right leg was slung across his hips and half your body draped over his.

Not much was said between you both, not much was ever exchanged between you both. He understood and knew his place as a Royal Guard even though he broke his oath multiple times to have you to himself. While he sometimes claimed it was done out of lust, he would debate and whisper three words he normally rolled his eyes at when others said it. However, tonight, there wasn’t anything said between you both since the declaration was made that morning. In a fit of rage, he rushed to meet with you after dark to release his frustration.

“I could do it, you know, but I would not place you through that harsh life,” he whispered to break the silence, “I can be selfish…well, I am selfish as my friends say. But I cannot watch you suffer by my selfish actions.”

The day you mentioned running away with him after he broke his oath to bed you, it was all he constantly kept reminding you about. He knew you like the back of his hand within the first three months, you were too predictable. He loved you, but he could not bring himself to run away and make you leave your luxurious life behind. There was nothing he could truly provide for you outside the Kingdom. A life as a hunter was not always fruitful, could you settle for that?

“I would still run away with you if given the opportunity Beleg.” You reached your right hand up to cup his face and bring his focus on you. You saw the hesitancy in his forest–green eyes; he wanted to agree but he thought of the repercussions. The Kingdom would label him as a kidnapper and a bounty would be placed on his head.

“You know life would be dangerous if we left, love,” he reminded you with a whisper. His body shifted to lie on the right side to face you.

“If I did not know, then I would not have suggested it.”

You were so naïve in his eyes, and he loved it about you.

Sacrifice was necessary at times if he wanted it to work.

Peeking up at him, his face was still afront and stone set. He wasn’t great at hiding his thoughts especially when they involved strategic planning, so you could see his thoughts written all over his face. Dropping your eyes from his face, they roamed his full-plated armour. He was dressed in silver accompanied by his silver hair tied into a man–bun. Returning to look at the withering tree before you, there was a curt intake of breath followed by a pregnant pause. Beleg’s stance shifted to stand at ease and the hand on the hilt of his sword dropped. Within an instant, you were pulled into a choking embrace.

All sense of composure left you the moment his arms surrounded your waist, and you returned the gesture despite the uncomfortable poking of his armour. Both your faces easily buried into each other’s neck, breathing in the scent of lavender and mint. His chest plate moved aggressively against your unprotected chest from his laboured breathing the tighter he squeezed you. His body pushed and pressed with half its weight as he backed you against the cold cobblestone wall. A loud gasp left your lips the moment you collided with the frigid stone and was soon muffled but the scent of mint waffled through your nostrils. Lips that were a mixture of pillows and sandpaper dragged against yours, desperate to taste you one last time.

His ragged breathing was stuffy in your ear the more he panted as his lips interlocked with yours aggressively. The loud smacking of wet lips echoed in the tunnel, but you two were too far lost in the closure of one another to care. He made the first move in the open, all you were required to do was follow suit.

His right hand travelled lower to grip your leg and hoist it around his waist while his fingers massaged the flesh through the material. The other hand was busy cupping the nape of your neck and tilting your head upwards to angle the kiss deeper. He was torn between wanting to devour or cherish you at the moment. All sane actions were lost and forgotten; all that mattered was you and him currently. Gasping when you felt him tilt your head at an unorthodox angle, he bit your bottom lip, seeking entrance which you granted with ease. The minute his tongue slipped past your lips to meet yours, the grip and weight on your body increased and a growl emanated from within.

Your body was easily hoisted off the ground despite the leg wrapped around his waist; you had to scramble to wrap the other around him. They were both entangled in his cloak. You could feel the palm of his right hand cupping your butt while respectfully restraining himself from squeezing it like he desired. You on the other hand were losing a battle of the tongue as he pried songs from you. Not once did you two stop to cater to the passing soldiers from above who could be your audience as you both moaned and groaned into each other’s mouths. The longing desire between you both blinded all other voices of reason…for you.

Wrapping his tongue around yours and dancing with your muscle, he pulled more songs from you and groaned in response. Breaking the kiss to drag his lips across your jaw, nipping and biting as he moved, and down your neck, he froze once his lips collided with the juncture of your shoulder. Hovering his lips over your slightly reddened skin, you could feel the heat from his warm breath and shivered. At that moment, his eyes reopened and focused on the grey wall behind you. Thoughts hurdled across this mind, contending with him to make his final decision and end his games. Consciousness returned and seized control of his mindless body, urging him to have some pride and dignity. He was a Royal Guard, not your lover.

Unhurriedly, he straightened his posture and towered over you once more, flashing you his forest-green eyes that were filled with confusion and anger. Inch by inch, he pulled back until he settled you onto the ground and returned to his stationed distance.

“Beleg, what’s wrong?” you inquired while licking your lips to soothe the swelling of them.

His response made your heart sink when he bowed at a right angle and greeted you formally. “Your Highness, apologies. I was…savouring one last moment between us.” His eyes refused to meet yours and chose to settle at your feet.

Tears immediately prickled the corners of your eyes as you stared at his retracted demeanour. What happened to just now?

“Beleg—”

“With all due respect if I may, it is Ser Beleg Cúthalion, Your Highness.” He corrected.

“What is the meaning of this?!” you cried.

Hearing the crack in your voice and knowing that tears were streaming down your face, he still kept his face to the cobblestone and bowed with greater depth. “Your Highness…this should end between us. I should have never initiated anything from the very start. I knew you were gullible and I abused it to satisfy my personal needs. I-…I found it impossible to comprehend that I would have nothing as a Royal Guard, and yet there you were, as beautiful as the dawn. I desired and I craved you like you were the air I needed to breathe.”

“Beleg…”

He straightened his posture but still refused to look at you. “I had my fill, and I loved every minute I spent with you, despite craving more. There’s a difference between us and it is a wall impossible to climb,” he paused to exhale and sniffle, “I tried to climb it out of foolishness believing that I was blessed, and if I was caught, my life would be lost. I’ve already lost my dignity and oath the day I took you, please allow me to keep whatever little I have left.”

You didn’t bother wiping your tears away and left them to fall, staining your garment with darker blotches. Your eyes were reddened, cheeks swollen, and lips curled back, ready to snarl. If only you could lunge at him and shake the stupidity out of his yolkless brain to make him see how much you did not care, you would. You were willing to leave your entire life behind to spend out your days with him. Nothing mattered, not even if his trade was being a hunter or a carpenter, you loved him and wanted to spend eternity with him. And here he was, unenthusiastically putting up a fight—it wasn’t much of a fight, to begin with.

“Please tell me that you are joking, and it is all part of something greater perhaps?” you pleaded as you took a step closer. Only he took a step backwards. He could hear the sorrow in your voice slowly chipping away the happiness while his temper grew to unparallel lengths.

“I am not Your Highness! You cannot survive on my love—can it cloth your skin, put food on our table? Can it provide us wealth and comfort?” he shouted in anger while maintaining his voice, nothing above the howling of the wind. The temperature had dropped, and a storm was brewing in the mix.

Crying out at his rejection, you refused to accept such truth and pushed against the door he wished to shut in your face. Not after all you two had been through. “So that is your reason?!” you exclaimed, “after spending a lifetime with me beneath starlit tapestry, it meant nothing to you? Do you think that I would love you for pleasure and not desire a future with you? I want to be with you!”

Taking one step closer to you, he trembled in rage at your stubbornness. You were so damn difficult! Why couldn’t you accept his reason and be done with it? Why couldn’t you just accept heartbreak and run off crying? Responding in exasperation, he pinched his nose, “Do not be foolish. You are royalty, above my status. We cannot mix, we cannot be. Do not provoke what little oath I have to myself as your protector. I’ve already betrayed the King by sleeping with his child.”

“I do not believe you! This isn’t you Beleg—you would never tell me these things!” You shook your head, dismissing his explanations.

“I stand as a solitary sentinel, oathbound and condemned to embrace a lone demise. What love could a man, treading the path of death, offer a courtesan who dances amidst the starlit tapestry?” he murmured, his voice a lament, a hollow vessel drained of life's essence.

“Many things,” you hopefully whispered, “so many things that can only be should you choose to live beside me, and not by the grave’s shadow. Your fate is not written in stone yet. Defy destiny's grasp, fight it! You are a warrior with a lion's heart. Fight for us!”

Closing his eyes and shaking his head, he spoke up once more, this time crestfallen, “Why do you foolishly cling to me still? I have a war to fight, if I survived, I will not choose the life of a commoner for you. I do not wish to hear you ask when next is our meal or for new clothes. I know I cannot provide those things for you—I will not be so selfish.”

“Then I will!” you exclaimed and ushered to stand directly before him. Your hands stretched up to cup his cheeks and twist his head to look you in your eyes. Even tears were building up and being collected in his lashes. “Let me embrace selfishness, folly and clumsiness, for my heart beats only for you! The opulent and cold-hearted suitors hold no appeal as my love is yours alone. There is no joy in this world if you are not there to share it with me! Your very existence is my will to live! Does your heart not return my plea?”

Here was the opportunity to reject you completely and leave you run off to cry your heart out. All he had to respond with was ‘no’ meaningfully. It was there on the tip of his tongue ready to eject into the air and hit you directly in your emotions. Break you down and allow you another form of happiness in the end…but he couldn’t. His heart squeezed the word into his throat and suffocated it.

“Beleg, your heart, does it not respond?”

It does, every day and night, but I mustn't give in!

“Does your heart not answer?!”

He looked at the ground and grunted.

“Beleg?!”

“It does! It beats for you day and night, but—”

“But nothing! That is all that matters.”

Silence settled over you both, drowning your thoughts and voices as you continued to lock each other in an intense stare-down. Tears were matching tears. His hands left his sides to grip your wrist and bring them to his lips to kiss before returning them to his cheeks. There were small wrinkles at the corners of his eyes when he smiled sympathetically. You were the most foolish and naïve person he had ever met. There wasn’t a bone of fear or danger, just a leap of fate and chance, and a measure of courage. He bore all the sense and sensibility to keep you out of trouble.

Beleg was rummaging around his head to find a suitable answer to reject your offer despite your wonderful heartfelt confession, but there wasn’t anything he could manage. You had a solution to everything no matter how crazy the suggestion was. At times, he felt as though he was both royal and guard.

“What sorcery is this that ensnares me in such sweet foolishness? Where have you concealed my reason and prudence? How do you lead me astray, causing me to surrender to this… What mystical incantations have you cast upon my heart?”

“It is the tapestry of emotions called love. We are but humble captives of its gentle grasp,” you confessed with a tender smile, your eyes shimmering as if they held the constellations themselves. “But if you truly desire our union, then fake your death before the battle.”

His head jerked back at how easily the response flew past your lips and eyes darted around for the sake of suspecting eavesdroppers before returning to yours. You were contemplating this for months he could tell.

“And what of you?”

“I would fake my death as well. During the war, attempts to break in occurs. I shall use that as my opportunity of escape and reunite with you, and we can live across the sea where no one would recognise us,” you explained in an excited hush-hush tone. These were your thoughts brewing in a cauldron over the past few months since your first night spent together. All it took was for him to understand and agree.

He bubbled over your suggestions for minutes while refusing to remove himself from your hold. The wind blew and scattered loose leaves throughout the tunnel, the sound of soldiers marching in the courtyard echoes and the song of the bird and beast rattled in the background. He stewed long and pensively over everything, searching for any loopholes that could possibly disrupt the flow of the progression. His blood and heart were singing the more his thoughts channelled until he found nothing.

“And what if no one breaks into the castle?” he challenged.

Shaking your head with a nonchalant smile, you pacified his worry. “There are other means to faking my death during that time without suspicions. All you have to do is fake yours before the war and meet me at an assigned location. I’ll bring enough gold to start us off, we’ll live fine. We can marry like we desire and be together.”

“…I have my doubts about this. This is persecution and death for me, while treason for you.”

“I know, I can see it in your eyes,” you hummed and smiled with your eyes. “But just, try. For us, for me.”

Closing his eyes and heaving, he internally fought the urge to reject the chance to elope, the change to hold you forever in his arms. To kiss, to cherish, to freely love under the moon and stars, all without hinderance. Break my oath to have the love of my life, but it’s already broken. Ha! Nothing ever comes without risk to get reward, even if death clung like a leech… Then so be it!

“…Alright, I’ll try. I make no oaths.” He nodded sceptically at first and slowly broke into a steady rhythm before rapid assurance. The hands that held yours glided down your arms you to cup your face and pull you in for a quick kiss. This time, his lips were softer and gone was the sandpaper sensation as they glided across yours. They moulded easily against yours and left a warm fire burning in the pit of your abdomen.

“I’ll take that as a sign of approval,” you breathed hopefully. “Now that everything is partially settled, I demand that I see you tonight at the old mill. You started something without finishing it Ser Beleg Cúthalion. We can argue during or after our rendezvous if your blood is stilling boiling,” you teased and pulled on the collar of his shirt under his armour. His squeaked at your abrupt action and stumbled further into you.

Awkwardly coughing, he grinned. “As you wish Your Highness. Consider this a celebration for our plan set in motion.”

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tare-anime · 7 months

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Royal Guard AU (wip)

There's a Royal AU for TwiYor week @twiyorbase, and I've had this wip for quite some time now, and I don't know when I'll finish it.

So, please accept this humble 'will be chapter 1 of someday will be finished fic'

Inspired by the amazing @mochidoodle Royal Guard AU art. (not at all part of their AU).

Summary:

Prince Loid Forger of Westalis loves to go undercover and blend with his people to gain information. To ensure his safety during his late-night shenanigans, Westalis' General of Royal Knights assigns him a personal bodyguard. Unbeknownst to them, this personal bodyguard also has her own personal mission.

(AO3)

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"Your Highness. This is Ms. Yor Roseate. She is to be assigned as your personal bodyguard starting today."

Prince Loid Forger raises his brows as he looks up from the thick tomes in front of him. "And why do you think I need a personal bodyguard, Ms. Sherwood?"

The red-haired General of the Royal Knights' brow furrows. "I think you know full well of the reason."

Loid looks directly at her eyes. "I'm afraid I do not. Please enlighten me?"

Instead of backing down, the older woman hardens her looks. "Do you really want me to spell it to you?"

He sighs in defeat.

He should've known better than to challenge their Royal Knights General, who is also his personal trainer and has been with him since they were young.

Of course, the woman would know his nighttime shenanigans. And even though he had tried his best to cover his most recent injury (he was so sure he had done it secretly), those things do not escape Sylvia's observation.

"You won't tell Father, will you?"

The red-haired woman smirks. "Are you questioning my diplomatic ability?"

He chuckles, "No. Of course not." And then he mutters, "I still value my life after all."

"What was that?"

"Nothing!!" He stands up and comes closer. "So, any special reason for assigning Ms. Roseate as my personal bodyguard? Why don't you yourself be one?"

He saw the general gesture at the stiff woman beside her. "She might be the newest recruit, but she happens to be the strongest and most talented."

"Newest recruit?"

"Mhmm. But I highly suggest you not underestimate her, lest you want to taste her wrath."

Loid doesn't like the smug face of his martial arts mentor.

There must be a hidden agenda that Sylvia is scheming.

He plans to uncover that along the way.

The man then focuses on the dark-haired woman that stand in perfect stance ever since she is introduced.

Dark long hair, red eyes, and a lean figure.

What interests him most is her unique lean rapier-like swords that rest at her hip.

Double swords? Interesting….

"Well then. It's a pleasure meeting you, Ms. Roseate."

"The honor is mine, Your Highness." He sees her bow.

Mmm… very polite. Let's see how long until she asks to be replaced.

"And I trust you'll be on your best behavior, Your Highness? Please do not underestimate the 'recent' rumors."

Darn it! Loid is sure that he has suppressed the smirk.

"Of course, Ms. Sherwood. You can count on me for that."

The look that Sylvia gives him tells that she doesn't believe every single word that he says.

Loid just smiles politely.

She knows me too well.

It is the first day that Yor is officially on duty as crowned Prince Loid Forger Henderson's personal bodyguard.

And she feels nervous.

No, she doesn't think that her skills are under-standard.

She has passed General Sherwood's tests with flying colors.

It's the responsibility that unnerves her.

If something bad happens to His Highness, then aside from that her head will be on the line, it will soil her reputation.

And her mission.

She simply cannot allow that to happen.

So, she makes sure to stay close to His Highness and observe her surroundings thoroughly.

The day's tasks are part of Prince Loid's daily routines as crowned prince. He goes around villages, listening to the farmers' problems and giving advice to solve them and also taking notes for things the palace has to intervene to make sure they have a good harvest in upcoming months.

In other places, he monitors the progress of their new harbor, designed to make sure their fish products can be packed and distributed to wider areas, one of the most promising export commodities of Westalis.

On the way, he always returns the greetings of his subjects.

Yor often hear about the humbleness of the Prince of Westalis. But to witness said act by her very own eyes is certainly a different experience.

Seeing how the people of Westalia clearly love the Prince, and how he reciprocates each one of greetings is a bit overwhelming for her.

There's a certain pang of alien emotion bubbling in her chest.

When was the last time I felt envious of other people?

She squashes the feeling by refocusing on her task.

The amount of people gathering so close to him can mean danger.

What if someone with bad intentions was among these people and was waiting for a chance to harm the Prince?

So she better do her job properly and observe every small movement of the people, the environment, and every possible place for any surprise attack.

Thankfully, no incident occurred that day until they returned to the palace.

Arriving back at the palace, Loid then sits in his room and starts to read, and sign paperwork.

All the time, his newly assigned personal bodyguard sticks to his side, like what a usual bodyguard does.

However, Loid's keen observation noticed how Ms. Roseate many times look tense and glaring at his surroundings.

And she is still doing it now. He muses.

"Are you always this stiff, Ms. Roseate?"

He raises his brow when he sees her start.

She immediately bows "Apologies, Your Highness."

Loid chuckles and waves his hand. "Relax, will you? This is the last of my tasks for the day by the way. You are dismissed."

Yor blinks and answers, "I am sorry Your Highness. Ms. Sherwood assigned me to be at your side 24/7."

Loid's eyebrows arch, "24/7? Must you stay by my side even when I'm doing my business at the loo?"

Face immediately flushes, he hears Yor stammers, "O-Of course I'll be waiting outside, Sir…. I mean, Your Highness."

Loid guffaws. "That would be unnecessary. Sylvia can be too paranoid sometimes. But rest assured. Nothing bad will happen inside the palace. You may rest."

He gives her his best reassuring smile which always manages to convince everyone.

It looks like she is included.

He sees her fidgeting for a moment before finally Yor bows and retreats from his room.

Loid smirks triumphantly.

It is time to leave this confined palace and continue his nighttime routine.

After applying the fake mustache and goatee, clad in his cloak, Loid, or now known as Twilight, sneaks out of the palace through a secret passage.

The first place he always visits is The Frizz Tavern.

The place may be reeking of tobacco smells and alcohol, but people always gather there and so are information and rumors.

Today is no different.

He comes in and takes his seat at the corner of the bar. Right beside a curly-haired man, who once again is seen trying to woo the waiter and failing.

Slapping his shoulder, Twilight greets him. "Yo, Frankie. Still trying?"

The shorter man grumbles, "Shut it! If only you would share one or two of your persona with me, you stingy bastard!"

"It's not right to pursue women through deception, Frankie."

"You're one to talk!" Frankie grumbles, "Who is she?"

Twilight raises one eyebrow, "Who's what?"

Frankie places his chin in his palm and points past Twilight, "Her of course, who else?"

Puzzled, Twilight twirls on his chair and almost jumps from it in surprise.

"Good evening." The calm and soft voice of Yor Roseate greets him.

Thankfully she is wearing a massive cloak that covers her from head to toe, hiding her royal guard uniform, and a mask that hides half of her face.

But that doesn't answer his question, so he whispers, "What are you doing, here?!"

"I'm following my order from Ms. She-...."

Twilight immediately clamps her mouth and whispers, "No no no! Not here!"

Frankie peeks from his shoulder and says, " So you do know her. Is she another of your-..."

Twilight doesn't let him finish as he abruptly grabs Yor's wrist and briskly walks out from the tavern's back door.

After making sure that they are alone, Twilight starts his questions, "How do you know where to find me?"

"I'm following Your Highness."

Following him? From the palace? But he didn't feel anyone's presence.

He presses on, "Nobody should know I left the palace."

"I've been following you since you left the room."

Twilight blinks, "But I went through…." He abruptly stops himself lest he blurts his secret.

"That passage is indeed very cleverly built, as expected from Your Highness. But as Ms. Sherwood said it is-...."

He lifts his hand to stop her, "Wait wait….. Sylvia knows about that??!!"

The woman in front of him shrugs, "It's not that hard to find."

Twilight faces faults.

And suddenly Sylvia's warning rings in his mind: do not underestimate her.

Several weeks prior

“You are to go on a solo mission in a faraway place. I wish you to keep up your impeccable performance and not put shame on our country.”

Yor bows her head deeply. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Go. And make our country proud.”

Once again Yor bows her head and turns to leave the majestic throne room.

“Oh, and Yor…”

She stops and turns to face the King of Ostania.

She notices how His Majesty’s face softens a fraction as he whispers, “Please be careful.”

Yor smiles. “I will… Father.”

She then continues to pack her belongings and immediately departs to the kingdom of the West.

#spy x family #yor forger #loid forger #twiyor #twiyormonth #royal guard AU #action #comedy #wip #sxf fic #sxf fanfic #sxf wip

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