The Knight stood firm at her post. The day was hot, and sweat trickled down her back under her armor. It wasn't necessary, the extra armor, but to hide the female underneath, it was. The other guards and staff didn't know, only the Commendatore and the King himself knew, because the King had to be told when the Commendatore knighted her three months ago. They, the king and herself, hadn't met. A counselor or two might know.

She shifted her sword grip slightly as two maids passed, carrying baskets of laundry, chatting away. The Knight gave a small bow as they passed, which sent them into giggles.

A few quiet moments passed. The Knight glanced back at the doors that she was guarding, which was the King's Chambers. The normal guard, Sir Ronadle, had just gotten reposted to the far side of the kingdom. So the Commendatore had posted The Knight to the doors. It was afternoon, the sun was high. Before, when the King left in the morning, a different guard had been there, the night man. He was asleep currently.

The Knight turned as voices drifted to her ears. The King himself was walking up the corridor, his counselor at his side. They were talking about a repair on a wall near the east border.

" -And don't spare money, I don't want the villages over there worrying. Oh, and be sure to add the extra pay to the day guards at the noble doors." The King was saying. The Counselor nodded as he wrote down the order. They had arrived at The Knight, who took a step to the side and pushed open the door.

The King waved the Counselor off as he was turning, then he spotted The Knight. "You're not Ron," He said, "Who are you?"
The Knight kept her voice as manly as she could. "Sir Ronadle was reposed, Your Majesty," she said, staring forward, "I was posted as your day guard."
The King crossed his arms. "Tell me your name."

The Knight shifted. "Knight Becker, sir."

The King paused, then called the Counselor back, who had stopped at the staircase when The Knight and The King had started to talk. The Counselor hurried over, and they vanished into the chambers.

The Knight went back in front of the doors.

After a while, long enough for the sun to come into view, the Counselor left the room, gave The Knight a glance, then hurried off.

More silence. Come sundown, a servant in kitchen clothing came up with a tray, with food and drink for two. She said to The Knight, "It's his majesty's dinner."

"All this for one man?" The Knight asked, eyeing it. She stepped to the side to let her in

"The Counselor gave the food order to us." She said. She gave a small bow before going in. The Knight heard them talking in low voices before the Maid left.

A few moments later, The King stepped out.

"I think you need to taste this for me," The King said, shoving an exquisite cake in The Knight's face.

The Knight blinked. "Um, I'm not allowed to eat on duty, My King."

"What, would you rather your King be poisoned?"

The Knight flinched, of course she didn't. She hesitantly took a mouthful, only to practically melt in delight, "Oh my god," it was amazing. Then she caught herself. "I-er-think it's fine."

"You should have a sip of wine too," The King said. "Just to be safe. Come in too."

The Knight was then forced inside and pushed in the direction of a chair by the fire, on the table in front of the chair was a goblet of wine. "Sit, sit."

The wine seemed fine, more than fine really, in the Knight's opinion. The King noticed.

It took The Knight slightly too long to realize that it was a form of a date, with the King feeding The Knight delicacies from his plate.

"You're a brave woman, doing work like this," The King said, now sitting on the arm of the chair with his arm draped over the back. The Knight sat rigid. "You can relax, you know."

When she didn't, the King said, "Remove your helmet. Now."
It was not a request.

She reached up and pulled her helmet. A long brown braid fell out, along with a set of straight bangs. Her face was gentle looking, with large brown eyes and a spray of freckles along her nose and cheeks. Plump red lips, slightly chapped, were chewed as she squirmed under his gaze.

The King loved it.

"Your surname is Becker, correct?" He asked, reaching to catch a stray hair that hadn't lasted in the braid. The Knight went still. "What, pray tell, is your first name?"

She carefully cleared her throat. "It's Daleka, sir. Daleka Becker."
"And how, Good Knight, did you become a Knight?"
She reached up to tug her braid. "I've got almost seven brothers my senior, each has become a knight. A tradition and hope in my family. As I grew up, my Father told me if I wasn't a Knight in some way, I would be nothing short of a dishonor, and would be sent to a convent. So, My brothers Thomas and Bane did some smooth talking, and here I am."

The King frowned. "So... you took in a job that is one of the most dangerous in our lands, to please your Father?"

The Knight slowly nodded. The King snorted, "That is utterly ridiculous."
"It's what some children must do, Your Highness."

He just shook his head. "Its nothing short of ridiculous and you cannot change my mind on tha-"

A gong sounded throughout the castle. The Knight leaped to her feet and snatched up her helmet. "I must leave You Highness, I have to go to the kitchens."

The King stood. "The kitchens? Why?"
"I work as a maid come night, till midnight. It's part of the job." She tucked her braid back into the helmet. "I bid you good evening." She tried to get past the King, but he grabbed her arm.

"Wait, you work two positions? For how long do you sleep?" he demanded.
The Knight didn't face him when she replied. "About five hours. It's fine."
He gave her a tug till she turned around. "No, it's not."
The gong had gone silent.

"Please, I've got to go."
"I want to talk to you longer."
The Knight lowered her head. "We can't, I'm already breaking protocol being here."

The King sighed. Then he straightened, an idea forming. "Alright then. We'll talk soon, hear me? Because you will become my bodyguard."
The Knight's head snapped up. "Bodyguard? Are you sure, me?"
The King grinned and nodded. "Yes, I am. Now, off with you."
The Knight nodded her head. "Good night, my lord." she turned to grab the door knob.

"Call me Frey, Daleka."

She was frozen again. Being allowed inside the royal chambers was one rule breaker, but calling the King by his first name? Go ahead, throw her out.

But she knew so much better than to say otherwise. "Good night then, Frey."

Frey smiled and let Daleka go. She slid out.

"You're late!" The Head Maid snapped when Daleka ran in, redressed in her work dress. She dropped down on a stool and plucked up a shirt with a rip in the sleeve and started working, her face hidden by her veil. The Head Maid scoffed and stormed away, leaving Daleka alone in the dark workroom, a single candle being her only light.

Time passed. The watch hanging from the peg ticked loudly in the room, echoing in the room.

Then, about an hour till the midnight bell, the door opened again. Daleka looked up from the sock she was mending and stood. "Hello?"
A figure leaned in. "Hello, Daleka?"
She gripped the sock and needle tighter. "Yes?"
The figure stepped in, shut the door, and pulled off his hood. "Evening."
Daleka dropped the sock. "Your Highness!"
He waggled a finger. "Ah ah ah, I said call me Frey." he looked around and shivered. "It's freezing down here! Aren't you cold?"

A small flair of anger went through Daleka. "I've been through colder. I doubt you have though," she sat down with a huff. Frey stayed against the door. There was silence.

"I didn't mean to offend you," He said, walking forward and dropping down on a stool beside her.

She didn't look up from her sock. He reached out and took her hands in his. "You're the first person that's made me look twice."

Daleka looked up. "I'm a guard-maid, you're a King. We don't operate on the same level."
"I can change that."

She pulled away. "Don't."

"But-"
She stood. "Don't play with my heart." she started to walk away but Frey stood himself and put out his arm. She stopped and made no move to move his arm, or touch him.

"Give me a chance," he said, a slight plea in his voice. She looked at him, really looked at him.

He had tan skin from spending time outdoors in his youth. His light brown hair was slid back, showing his face off. His hazel eyes bore into hers, searching for a response that he wanted.

He slowly moved his hand to reach for Daleka's. "Please."

She gave her hand a tug away from his. Then looked into his eyes. "How about a deal?"
Frey grinned, if there's one thing he loved it was gambles and deals. "I'm listening."
"You can have... two months to try and... court me, I guess." She said, tugging her fingers, "And we'll go from there. But I will keep my job until further notice!"
Frey signed, he had been hoping to have her drop The Knight act. Eh, it could be worked around. This would make things a bit difficult, but nothing bad.

"Do you agree, Frey?" Daleka asked. She offered out her hand.

He took her hand and shook it. Then pulled her into his chest, slid his other hand around her back, and said, "I agree, and look forward to every moment."