"Welcome, Mando," he said, addressing the man like an old friend. "I hope your journey here was easy."

"It was fine," he said.

"Excellent," he said. "Welcome to Katethen."

Mando nodded. A brief silence fell over the crowd. He glanced around briefly. "It seems you have a lot of protection detail here. I'm not sure a bodyguard is necessary with soldiers like these."

"Oh, trust me," your father chuckled, "a Mandalorian is necessary. My daughter is my last remaining heir. Her safety is of most importance to me. I think in time you will see how seriously I take her wellbeing. I need every hand I can get." Your father looked back at you and beckoned you with a hand. "Come meet your bodyguard, daughter. Come right here."

Like a child, you took three steps forward until you stood in front of the Mandalorian. You nodded your head once, your eyes looking directly at his mask. Emotionless. Just like your father when he looked at you. Just like you were used to.

"Princess," he said, bowing his head slightly.

"Mandalorian," you replied, holding your chin as high as you could. "It's nice to meet you."

"Come, we will show you the palace," your father said. You turned and walked slightly ahead, only to feel the harsh hand of your father snatching your wrist and pulling you back to walk alongside your bodyguard.

Right. You had someone new to follow your every move.

You supposed you should be grateful to be rid of your last bodyguard. Even though he still lurked around the palace, taking his newest position as the leader of the soldiers and the guard of the prisons, you were grateful it wouldn't be him lurking outside of your bedroom door while you tried to sleep. Although you would prefer no one be following you as closely as you had been followed for the last four years.

"All I ask is that you remain beside her," your father said. "The palace is large. There are many windows and many people working within the gates. I'm not sure who to trust or where she is safest. Unless she is in the presence of someone keeping her safe, of course."

"Have there been any incidents threatening her safety recently?" the Mandalorian asked.

Your father was silent for a moment. "A few years ago, there was a Rebellion spy located in the palace. The spy nearly made it out with her. We saved her at the last moment. But she was almost torn from us forever." Your father sighed, and your body shook. "Other than that, we've had some instances of attempted break-ins. Nothing that wasn't stopped in its tracks, though."

"Have you considered relocating her to a different place? Somewhere she is safer?"

"There is nowhere that is safe for a princess of a kingdom that is loyal to the Empire. The Republic has offered a brand new supply of dangers for her. Even the most innocent of the cause could be killed solely because of who she knows."

Your father stared at you sadly, and you pretended you weren't there. You hated this. All of these sob stories of your life being threatened and your father being an ever-loving father desperate to protect his little girl. They made you sick to your stomach. You wondered if the Mandalorian could see past the lies. If he was smart, he would. No one had been that smart just yet.

"Besides, this is her home," he said. "I would hate to tear her from the place her mother raised her."

Another thing you hated. You wished he wouldn't speak about your mother like he was sad about her death. Like he missed her. He didn't, and the fact was painfully obvious. It always had been. But your heart longed for the familiar touch of your mother. You didn't know her for very long. Your memories were few. Her long hair, her kisses that were as soft as a feather, her lullabies that sent you to sleep every night for seven years. She was a casualty in one of the many wars of your kingdom back when you were a child. You weren't there when she was killed, but you heard it...

"I see," the Mandalorian said.

"And so all I ask of you, Mandalorian, is that you remain by her side," he said.

"I will," he said. "You have my word. No harm will come to the princess in my care."

"Your payments will come weekly," he added. "Is the amount we agreed upon originally enough?"

"It should be."

"Excellent. Then let us celebrate this joyous occasion! The servants have prepared breakfast for us." He nodded his head forward and the Mandalorian followed silently.

The table was full of pastries and sausages and eggs, all laid out on gold china. Cups full of a tangy juice were refilled after every sip you took. You sat beside the Mandalorian, your napkin in your lap, quietly thanking the servants who filled your plate with food. You ate slowly, feeling the ache in your stomach fade quickly as the dread of the morning wore off.

The Mandalorian turned down every offer of juice, water, or food. Your father stared at him, offended by his lack of interest in the meal that was offered. "I'm sorry, is there something else you'd prefer?"

"No," the Mandalorian said, "and I do appreciate the offer. I can't remove my helmet in front of any other living thing. It's a part of my Creed."

"Oh, that's right," he said, a slight smile on his lips. "Well, that's a shame."

You swallowed your bite of food with great difficulty and wiped your lips. "You can't eat?"

"No," the Mandalorian replied. "Not in public."

"Interesting," your father said, eyes flashing.

You didn't like that. You leaned forward and whispered, "Father, this is cruel. He cannot eat, we shouldn't keep him here---"

"Silence, daughter," he snapped, not looking at you. His voice was softer for the Mandalorian. "I didn't realize your Creed was that important to you. I've met several Mandalorian that removed their helmets without issue."

"Then they weren't true Mandalorian," he said simply.

"Bold of you to say." Your father nodded approvingly. "And what would happen if your helmet was removed?"

"It couldn't be placed back on."

A flash in your father's eyes. "Very interesting."

The room was quiet now, except for the scraping of your father's fork against the plate. You didn't touch your food anymore, although your stomach growled for more. You stared directly at the Mandalorian's full plate of wasted food, growing colder by the second.

You were grateful you had stopped eating when you heard the heavy footsteps of Vinor Thiff enter the room. You slowly let your eyes close as he approached behind your chair. A single hand touched the back of it. His fingers brushed against your loose hair that fell down your back. You stiffened and regretted it. You could hear his smile at the lack of your composure. He scared you, and he knew it.

"Your majesty," he said.

"What?" your father asked rudely,, his mouth full of food.

"There's an issue in the prison," he said. "One that I think you'd like to speak privately about."

Your father's eyes met Thiff's and his head raised in understanding. "Ah, yes. Of course. Very well." He wiped his mouth. "Excuse me, Mandalorian. I'm afraid I will have to cut this short." He stood from his chair and left the room quickly.

Vinor said nothing, but his fingers pushed a little further into your hair as he walked around the table and left the room. You inhaled slowly as the silence of the room settled in their absence. Your hands fell on your lap and your eyes closed. You were safe. For now.

"I'm sorry," you said, "that my father put you in this position. He isn't as considerate as he should be about things like this."

He looked over at you, completely ignoring what you said to ask, "Have you eaten enough?" You looked down at your plate, still full. That was enough of an answer. He knew that you weren't eating because he wasn't. "You should eat."

You awkwardly started to eat, but it was more difficult with all of the attention on you. You weren't used to keeping company, especially to a man without a face or a name.

When you finished, you stood. The Mandalorian followed you as you pushed in your own chair and turned towards the doors. You walked through the hallway with him directly behind you, just a step behind. As you neared your bedroom, you slowed, turning slightly to look up at him and say, "If it's okay with you, I'll request that someone brings you a tray of food for you to eat in private in your quarters. If you need anything, ask me and I will be sure you get it."

"That is very considerate of you. Thank you."

You nodded once and walked past your bedroom door slightly. "Your room is here." You touched your hand to the wooden door and turned to look at him. "You'll have your own refresher and dining room in there. I'm sure my father has supplied you with anything you might have asked for already, but again, if he hasn't, just let me know. I'll be sure the servants bring you whatever you want."

A beat of silence.

"I have, uh, three servants. They're very kind and will respect your Creed, if you tell them," you said. "I will leave you to eat in your room for now. Again, I apologize for the way my father acted. I wish I could say he gets better, but I can't. Unfortunately."

"Your kindness doesn't go unnoticed," he said. "I thank you for everything."

"And I thank you, Mandalorian," you said, "for taking this job and offering me protection." The words were forced out of you. You sighed tiredly and walked off, quickly escaping to your room, where you could knock down the walls and let your sadness shine on through your broken heart.