[center][img]https://i.postimg.cc/660ZHgx8/Elara-Moonshadow.png[/img][/center][hr][right][sub]Location: Seluna Temple 
Interactions: The guards ([@The Muse]), Evelyn ([@Echotech71]), Céline ([@Beard Dad])  
Mentions: Amaya, Ramona (assumed) [/sub][/right][hr]
[indent][indent] [color=#ffffff]Elara observed the interaction between Orion and the red-haired woman with quiet focus. The woman was currently bent into an excessively deep curtsy, her words tumbling out in a flustered rush of apologies. In turn, she watched as Orion shifted uncomfortably, his posture stiffening at the excessive display of deference. Though his face remained neutral, Elara could tell he disliked being treated with such fearful formality.[/color]

[color=#0054a6]“You don't need to bow,”[/color] [color=#ffffff]she heard him say in a way that made it clear this wasn't a suggestion but a gentle command. Elara noticed how the woman’s eyes looked up at him with hesitant recognition. Those crimson eyes and pale skin marked Orion clearly enough, yet despite this, the woman had offered her name respectfully. Elara saw Orion register this small act of courtesy, his shoulders relaxing just slightly. That simple gesture of basic human respect seemed to mean more to him than all the fearful bowing.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]As the beginning of their exchange seemed to come to its natural end, Elara found her attention drawn to Evelyn's trembling hands once more—how they fluttered anxiously before being pressed firmly against her skirt. The deep curtsy and subsequent embarrassment painted a clear picture of someone still learning where protocol ended and genuine interaction began. This was something Elara understood intimately, however. Memories surfaced of her own early days serving the princess, when she'd clung to proper etiquette like a lifeline. Back then, she'd believed if she could just bow perfectly, speak softly enough, follow every rule exactly, she might survive the treacherous waters of palace life.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]She remembered particularly one humiliating moment when she'd tripped over her own skirts during a meeting with the princess. Instead of reprimanding her, Amaya had laughed. It had not been a cruel one either, but one containing genuine amusement. That moment had been one of the first cracks in the formal barrier between them. Soon after, the princess had insisted they drop such formalities when alone together. What had begun as a strict duty had slowly transformed into something far more precious. Real friendship and trust. Even…comfort. The memory warmed Elara still, though it did so now like sunlight on frost: beautiful, but unable to melt what had hardened between them.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]A sudden ache blossomed in Elara's chest, hurtful enough that her hands moved without thinking toward her heart. She caught herself mid-motion, fingers hovering before dropping back to her sides. What was the point? No physical gesture could ease this particular pain; the kind that came from absence and memory rather than any bodily wound. She forced her hands to still, clasping them loosely before her as she pushed the emotion down.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]The crunch of boots on snow broke through her thoughts. Two figures emerged from between the distant trees, their cloaks billowing dramatically behind them. Elara's first assumption was that they must be approaching Orion, perhaps messengers from the prince. But when they walked right past him after delivering a message about being needed elsewhere, her pulse quickened. [/color]

[color=#ffffff]Because their path led unmistakably toward her.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]As they drew closer, Elara felt her body tense. Why would they be coming for her? Had Amaya sent them? The possibility sent a bit of hope through her, quickly extinguished by their unhurried approach. Official summons carried more urgency. Still, she straightened her posture as the pair came to a halt in front of her—one clad in dark Lunarian steel, the other in the polished gleam of Aurelian silver and gold. The Lunarian dropped to one knee without hesitation, fist over heart in a gesture of formal respect. The Aurelian mirrored him a beat later, silent but compliant.

The Lunarian spoke first, deep brown eyes looking up at her between strands of tousled blond hair.[/color] 

[color=FA8072]“Lady Moonshadow. By order of Their Highnesses, Prince Flynn and Princess Amaya, we have been assigned to your protection. I am Corporal Morris—this here is Corporal Abbott. It is an honor to serve.”[/color]

[color=#ffffff]Elara stared at the two guards, momentarily stunned. Protection? Had Amaya ordered this? Or was it Prince Flynn’s doing? Either way, the timing was impossible to ignore, this coming right after she had stepped away, after she had tried to create distance. A tiny bit of suspicion rose in her chest: was this truly for her safety, or was it a polite way to keep eyes on her?[/color]

[color=#ffffff]But the doubt didn’t hold.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]No. She knew better. After everything that had happened—after the attack, after Sir Abel’s [/color][color=#ffffff][i]murder[/i][/color][color=#ffffff]—this wasn’t about control. It was about fear. Their fear. Amaya’s, Flynn’s. The kind of fear that came from nearly losing someone and being unable to stomach the thought of it happening again. The realization settled over her, softening the initial wariness. They hadn’t sent guards because she’d done something wrong, she told herself now. They’d sent them because she [/color][color=#ffffff][i]mattered[/i][/color][color=#ffffff].[/color]

The two guards rose to their feet then, Morris’s focus never leaving her. 

[color=FA8072]“You’ll find two additional guards stationed at your home. We sought you there first, but it seems you rise earlier than expected.”[/color] A faint smile followed, then a subtle gesture toward the surrounding area. [color=FA8072]“From now on, we’ll remain nearby. You’re free to go where you will, and we’ll not interfere unless your safety is at risk. That is our charge.”[/color]

The Aurelian, Abbott, gave a quiet nod in affirmation. His steel-blue eyes studied Elara a moment longer, then shifted to the rest of the group—assessing the blight-born woman with a calm, unreadable expression.

[color=#ffffff]Elara opened her mouth, ready to explain who her companions were, to vouch for them if needed.[/color]

[color=#0054a6]“She is with me.” [/color]

[color=#ffffff]Orion’s voice was firm as he approached, leaving no room for debate. His crimson eyes locked onto Abbott’s, not with hostility, but with a silent assertion of something the guards appeared to recognize because neither man objected.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]Then, softer, Orion added, [/color][color=#0054a6]“Was with me. I’m afraid my duty calls me away.” [/color][color=#ffffff]He dipped his head toward the three women in a courtly bow that felt unexpectedly sincere before straightening, his gaze landing on his blight-born companion he’d accompanied. [/color]

[color=#0054a6]“But I imagine we’ll meet again soon.”[/color]
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