The Princess's Loyal Knight

Name: The Princess's Loyal Knight
Rating: 5.0 (1 reviews)

Rhea Marie

Fantasy | Ongoing

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What happens when a legendary assassin, trained in the shadows and feared by many, is assigned an unusual mission to become the personal bodyguard of a powerless princess? A princess so naive and fragile that she can't even recognize danger when it's right in front of her. Viviette Frerio The 16-year-old princess of the Frerio Kingdom, born without magic or special abilities. Considered useless by her family and people, she has spent her life being ignored, mocked, and treated with open disdain. Even her own parents show little concern for her well-being. Nymeria Valencia A 17-year-old assassin, known for her unmatched skills, deadly precision, and unwavering resolve. For years, she has thrived in the darkness, eliminating targets without hesitation. But now, she faces her greatest challenge yet-guarding a princess who seems incapable of defending herself. Thrown into a world of royal politics, betrayals, and hidden dangers, Nymeria must decide: Will she adapt to this new life and protect the princess at all costs, or will she abandon her mission and return to the only world she has ever known?

Mystery Fantasy Revenge Arrogant/Dominant Knight Romance Second chance

Chapter 5 personal knight

06-23 17:20

Chapter 1 organization

Chapter 1

"Kid, what are you doing there?" I asked her.

" she asked fearfully, her voice trembling. She had her back turned to me, looking around in confusion as if trying to find me. I shook my head and jumped down from the tree behind her.

"Ahhh!" she let out a small scream upon seeing me. That's when I noticed her outfit-it looked like something from ancient times. A blue gown, a crown on her head... Wait, was that real gold?

"Hey, what are you doing?" I asked again, this time standing in front of her and kneeling down. My gaze landed on her face, which was covered in fresh bruises.

Was she kidnapped?

"A-Ah?" she stammered. I sighed and facepalmed.

"What happened to you?" I asked with a poker face. She was sitting on the ground, her gown covered in mud. What a waste-it was actually quite beautiful.

"W-Wala," she muttered, but I could see the sadness and pain in her eyes.

I glanced to my right, where my target's house stood. Actually, I had just finished taking care of my job, but as I was leaving, I noticed this kid.

We were about the same height, but I could tell I was probably a year older than her.

"Kid, do you know how dangerous it is to be alone here, especially when it's almost night? You should go home-your parents are probably looking for you," I said as I stood up, ready to leave. But I froze at her next words.

"T-They don't care what happens to me," she whispered.

Even though she said it softly, I still heard her.

I looked at her for a few moments before finally speaking again.

"Do you want to come with me?" I asked.

My brow raised when she quickly stood up. Tsk. If I weren't the one who found her and someone worse had taken her in, she might not have survived the night.

I frowned when I noticed her limping as she approached me. With a sigh, I crouched down in front of her.

"Come on," I said.

She hesitated for a moment before placing her hands on my shoulders. I felt her grip tighten slightly as I lifted her onto my back.

Honestly, the only reason I invited her was because I felt bad for her. Besides, I had no siblings, no cousins, no friends-nothing. In short, I was an only child. And as an assassin, I wasn't supposed to have friends. We were trained to hide our true emotions, to become heartless, cold, and dangerous to anyone.

But not me.

I wasn't raised like a normal child. My parents-both assassins-were part of an organization. My father even created it. My mother died of lung cancer, and after she passed, my father became even stricter with me. He sent me to the countryside just to kill someone.

By the time I was twelve, I had already taken a life. My first target was a relative. Yes, I killed them. My father ordered me to, and I couldn't disobey him.

That was years ago, back when I still loved him as my father. But now? Now, I just wanted to slit his throat.

Ever since I started killing, I hadn't seen him. And honestly, I planned to run away from him. I wanted a normal life, like any other kid.

Running away was the best option. But if I ever saw him again, I wouldn't hesitate to kill him.

"We're here," I said, glancing at the girl on my back.

She was asleep. Why didn't I notice?

I entered my small house-yes, my house. It wasn't much, but as an assassin, I needed to keep my identity hidden. We always changed our personalities, making sure no one could recognize us.

"Hey, wake up," I said.

She slowly opened her eyes, looking around the room before her gaze landed on me.

"W-Where am I?" she asked, sitting up. She was still wearing that same gown from earlier, which had now dirtied my bed.

"You're at my place. Here, wear this." I tossed her some clothes. "But before that, take a bath first. You're filthy." I looked at her in disgust.

She lowered her head in embarrassment before getting out of bed.

"Where's the bathroom?" she asked.

I pointed to the door on her right. She immediately entered, and I turned away to change the beddings.

Moments later, I heard a scream from inside. I rushed to the door and flung it open, only to immediately turn my back to her.

What the f-!! Why did she scream when she's-

"What the heck, woman?! What happened?!" I snapped.

"I-I'm sorry! I don't know how this works! Why is there water coming out? A-And what's this big container for?" she bombarded me with questions.

Tsk. Damn it!

"Just sit in there, and I'll come in," I instructed.

I heard her shuffle around before she finally sat down. Once she was in place, I turned to face her. She looked like a soaked puppy in the rain.

Tsk.

I walked over, turned on the faucet, and grabbed the liquid soap, pouring it into the bath.

Bubbles started forming, and she seemed fascinated by them. While she was distracted, I grabbed a scrub and started cleaning her up-she was covered in dirt, after all.

A hundred years later-okay, maybe not that long-I finally finished.

She was actually quite pretty. Her hair wasn't too long, reaching just above her elbows. Her skin was smooth and fair, though covered in bruises. Golden-brown eyes, a pointed nose, and pinkish lips-small, slightly pouty.

"Here, put this on," I told her.

She nodded, so I left the room and went to the kitchen to cook.

I only made eggs, bacon, and hotdogs, along with a glass of milk-for her, not for me. She looked like she needed it.

Oh, right. My name is Nymeria Valencia.

But people know me as Alliah Ramirez. That's the identity I use whenever I go out.

It's also the name registered at school. In short, all my records are under that alias. If anyone tried to dig up my real identity, they wouldn't find a thing about me-or my job.

As for my real name, only two people have ever known it: my mom and dad.

I was born at home, with a private doctor present-someone from our organization. But that person is dead. Mom killed them. The nurses too.

So yeah, only my parents knew my true name. My grandparents? Already dead.

I snapped out of my thoughts when I sensed someone approaching. Before she could speak, I beat her to it-without even looking at her.

"You're done? Come, eat," I said.

"S-Thank you," she said as she sat across from me.

I stared at her for a moment before breaking the silence.

"By the way, what's your name?" I asked while placing food on her plate.

She hesitated before finally answering, "V-Viviette Frerio. And you?"

"Mhmm. Nymeria Valencia," I replied indifferently.

I didn't care if she knew my real name. I'd change it again anyway.

"Nice to meet you," I said casually.

"A-Ah... N-Nice to meet you too," she stammered.

I glanced at her. So she knew how to speak English? Then why did she make me struggle earlier?

"A-Ah, I-I'm not very fluent in 'Inglisim,'" she said, raising both hands as if surrendering.

"Inglisim?" I repeated, confused.

"That's what we call your language," she explained.

I nodded. She was confusing to talk to-like she wasn't from here.

"By the way, when are you going back home?" I asked as I sister.

"I-I don't know," she muttered.

I glanced at her before looking down at my food.

Silence filled the room. Neither of us broke it. We just Sister.

"A-Ahm... C-Can I stay here?" she asked, her voice growing weaker.

"No. I'm leaving this place and not coming back," I told her bluntly.

"Then I'll go with you! Please, I won't be a burden!" she pleaded.

I frowned. We just met, and she already looks desperate.

"I have a job-"

"To kill?" she interrupted.

I froze.

"What-how did you know?" I asked coldly, my gaze turning sharp.

"I saw what you did last night," she said seriously, meeting my eyes without fear.

For the first time, someone dared to look at me like that.

Nymeria's POV

"Don't worry, I have no intention of disposing of you. That's not my job, and I don't have a client asking me to kill you," I said. I noticed how he took a deep breath, as if the fear inside him had suddenly disappeared.

"S-So you kill for money?" he asked hesitantly. I nodded.

"Yeah, I only take lives when I have a client. I don't kill without reason," I replied. He immediately looked up, as if deep in thought.

"How much do you get paid?" he asked.

"50 million per head," I said. He didn't seem surprised, but he also looked like he didn't fully understand.

"Is that a lot?" he asked again.

"Yes, it's a huge amount," I told him.

"Is your currency gold?" he asked, which made me frown.

"In my world, the highest-valued currency is gold, while silver is of lower value," he explained as if it were completely normal.

"H-Huh? Your money is gold?" I asked, suddenly serious.

"Yes, that's our currency," he said casually. I immediately started thinking.

'Just how rich is he?'

"I'll give you gold," he said, making me look at him seriously.