Chuuya Nakahara | Knight

You were never meant to be a farmer.

The blood in your veins, the name you were born with, none of it belonged in the quiet fields where you had spent your entire life. You had no memory of the opulent halls of the royal palace, no recollection of the golden crib where you once lay beside another infant... your twin sister. The two of you were born heirs to the throne, bound to a fate of crowns and daggers... but fate had other plans.

A prophecy, whispered in fear and secrecy by the royal astrologer, spoke of twin heirs—one destined to bring peace, the other to... drown the kingdom in blood. And it was you, the prince, whom the stars condemned. It was written that your ambition would rot into cruelty, that your charm would twist into manipulation, and that your rule would leave the realm in ashes. You were meant to be the sword that broke the crown. The throne could only belong to one, and the solution? Erase you from existence. Kill the boy, spare the girl.

On the night of your birth, a loyal servant... perhaps out of mercy, or perhaps out of guilt, spirited you away before the royal decree could be carried out. The kingdom had no room for a boy marked by the stars as a future tyrant. You were smuggled past the palace walls and abandoned at the doorstep of a poor farming couple beyond the kingdom’s borders, raised as one of their own. You had no idea that somewhere in the grand halls of the palace, another child, your twin sister, your mirror image, grew up in silk and gold while you tilled the earth with bare hands.

Until now, your lives had never intersected.

---

In The Palace

“You can’t just vanish whenever you feel like it, Your Highness.” Chuuya’s arms were crossed, his glare sharp enough to cut through steel. “What if something happened to you? What if some idiot assassin tried their luck? Hell, do you even think before you act?”

The princess only laughed softly, tilting her head as she lounged with effortless grace in her gilded chair. “Oh, Chuuya. You worry so much it’s almost adorable. Nothing ever happens here. It’s dreadfully dull.”

“Boring? You—” Chuuya cut himself off, inhaling sharply before rubbing his temples. “I swear to the gods, if you get yourself killed, I’m dragging your corpse back just to yell at you.”

Before the princess could offer another infuriatingly calm reply, a guard appeared at the door. “Sir Chuuya, His Majesty has requested your presence immediately.”

Chuuya exhaled through his nose, clearly reluctant to leave. He shot the princess one last warning glance. “Stay. Here. If I come back and you’re gone, I’ll—”

“You’ll what? Lecture me to death?” The princess smirked with practiced elegance, waving him off with a flick of her fingers. “Go on, Sir Knight. Don’t keep Father waiting.”

With a scoff, Chuuya turned on his heel and left.

The door had barely shut before the princess was on their feet, grinning to themselves.

Finally.

A few hours of freedom wouldn’t hurt.

And so, with the guards none the wiser, the princess slipped through the palace gates. She wandered through the bustling streets, her hood drawn low, relishing the fleeting taste of rebellion.

But that happiness was short-lived.

“Tch. That was almost too easy.”

The voice was rough, amused. The princess barely managed to lift her head before a boot slammed into her chest, sending her crashing onto the cold, filthy ground of the alleyway. Shadows loomed over her—three, four figures, their faces hidden behind masks.

“Did we really just kill a princess in a back alley?” one of them muttered.

“Not yet,” another corrected, crouching down and grabbing the princess’s chin, forcing her to look up. Their smirk was visible beneath the mask. “Tough little thing, aren’t you? Sorry, Your Highness, but this is nothing personal. Just a job.”

The princess coughed, tasting iron.

The world around her felt... distant. Like a dream. No, a nightmare.

Chuuya's going to be so pissed…

That was her last coherent thought before the dagger was driven into her heart.

Darkness took her before her body hit the ground.

.......

---

The market was bustling with life, the air thick with the scent of spices, freshly baked bread, and roasting meat. You were only there for ingredients—just a few things to cook a decent meal for the night. Your coin pouch was light, as always, but you knew how to stretch what little you had. You had just reached for a bundle of vegetables when the vendor’s voice rang out, sharp and accusing.

“Thief!”

Rough hands grabbed at you. “Trying to sneak off without paying, huh? I knew you looked shady!”

The accusation hit like a slap. You hadn't stolen a damn thing. But no one in the crowd was on your side, just another penniless nobody caught in the act, at least in their eyes.

“Guards! Someone stop them!”

The words sent a ripple through the crowd. People turned, eyes narrowing. A murmur spread, accusations, judgment, all directed at you. The guards stationed nearby wasted no time. Heavy boots pounded against the dirt as they rushed toward you. You barely had a second to think before instincts took over.

You ran.

Dodging past stalls, heart pounding in your chest. But the guards were trained, and you were just some farmer trying to escape a punishment you didn’t deserve.

Then, just as a hand seized your arm, another voice cut through the chaos.

“Unhand them. Now.”

The grip on you loosened instantly. You turned, breathless, and found yourself face to face with a knight clad in polished armor, his red hair unmistakable even in the shifting light. His piercing blue eyes locked onto you, filled with something between exasperation and relief.

“For the love of—do you have any idea how long we’ve been looking for you?!”

The guards stiffened, stepping back in alarm.

“S-Sir Chuuya?” one of them stammered.

“Damn right,” Chuuya snapped, before his gaze swung back to you.

“What were you thinking running off like that? You could’ve been killed, you little—” He groaned, rubbing his temple before grabbing your wrist.

Chuuya looked you over, his eyes narrowing as he took in the state of your disheveled appearance. Your hair, once neatly styled, was now a tangled mess, strands falling loose and wild around your face. The clothes you wore were far from royal—rough, ill-fitting fabrics that clearly belonged to someone far from the palace. He couldn’t help but scoff, shaking his head. “Pfft, no wonder the guards couldn't recognize you. What happened to all that royal grace? Did you get smarter, or did you just manage to blend in with the villagers in this silly disguise?” He tugged you a little harder, frustration building in his voice as he continued. “Seriously, Princess, what the hell were you thinking?”

Chuuya blinked, squinting at you as if trying to make sense of what he was seeing. For a moment, he thought he was hallucinating. You seemed... taller than he remembered. And your shoulders—definitely broader than they should be for a princess. Was he losing it? Chuuya quickly snapped himself out of it, shaking his head. Stop it, he scolded himself internally, You're just being creepy now. He cleared his throat, trying to focus on the situation at hand rather than whatever was making his brain short-circuit.

“Wh-Whatever. You’re coming back to the palace. Now.”

You barely had time to process before he was already dragging you through the streets. “Sneaking off into the city, getting accused of stealing—do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused? And here I was, worried you were actually dead—”

“Seriously, what kind of royal heir gets caught up in a damn theft accusation? You have guards for a reason! Just—ugh, shut up and walk, Your Highness.”

Why was this knight treating you like you knew each other? Why was he looking at you like you had personally made his life harder?

And most importantly—

Why does he keep calling you ‘Your Highness’?