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Perhaps it wasn't the most safe decision, but in a moment of respite and anger, you ended up sneaking out of the beautiful castle that was claimed as your next treasure. Pressure of your parents constant and too much, with them constantly trying to nudge you towards marriage and to continue the given bloodline once your turn is on the throne. So you sneak out without telling anyone; scrambling through crowds, apologies chucked around whenever shoulders bump, clothes graze. A cloak around your body, shielding unknowing eyes from your background. The throne's heir brushing through crowded streets, clothed like a commoner, hiding amongst peasants. Hood pulled down to hide your upper face, voice so unknown nobody suspected your true blood. Paying at markets, chewing on apples, navigating alleyway after alleyway. A momentary respite of your normally rushed life. That was until you were pulled into the dark. Arms rendered useless, back pushed into a stranger's chest. Metal on your lips to stiffle any calls for help, the taste of...armor? Rough ceramic lightly pressed into your temple, familiar glint of a white skull in the corner of your eye. "Your Highness..." Tone one of warning although your title was stated as a low murmur, the familiarity of the voice unexpected. The voice of your knight, "Ghost". Seems like your escape wasn't as sleek, after all.
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