Leaving the palace was easier than Arelion expected.
Convincing everyone that it was a good idea, however, was another matter entirely.
"You will not be traveling alone."
That was the final conclusion reached after an hour of arguments, protests, and at least one noble nearly fainting from stress.
Arelion sighed.
So much for slipping out quietly.
He stood at the palace gate, wearing far simpler clothes than a king should. No golden embroidery. No excessive ornaments. Just a dark cloak, practical boots, and a sword he didn't actually need.
Behind him, the gates slowly opened.
And waiting there—
A knight.
She stood straight, back rigid, armor polished but clearly well-used. Silver plates layered neatly over dark fabric, bearing the royal insignia on her shoulder. A longsword rested at her side, untouched but ready.
Blonde hair tied back cleanly. Sharp eyes. Calm expression.
The moment Arelion stepped forward, she dropped to one knee.
"Your Majesty."
The single word carried weight.
Respect. Loyalty. Discipline.
Arelion blinked.
"…Oh. Wow. That was fast."
She didn't react.
"I am Sir Elayne," the knight continued, her voice steady. "By royal order, I have been assigned as your escort."
Assigned, huh.
Arelion glanced behind her. "Let me guess. Chosen by the council?"
"Yes."
"Unanimously?"
"Yes."
He rubbed his temple. "Of course."
Sir Elayne remained kneeling, unmoving. There was no hesitation in her posture, no doubt in her eyes. If he told her to stand guard here for the rest of her life, she probably would.
That was… impressive.
And slightly terrifying.
"You can stand up," Arelion said.
She did so immediately.
"I assume you were told I'm not exactly doing this the traditional way," he added.
"Yes."
"And you're still fine with following me?"
"Yes."
No pause.
No question.
No visible concern.
Arelion studied her for a moment longer.
This one's dangerous in a different way.
"Alright," he said at last. "One condition."
Sir Elayne straightened even more. "Name it, Your Majesty."
"When we're outside the palace," Arelion said, "drop the 'Your Majesty' every five seconds. I'm trying not to attract assassins."
She frowned—just slightly.
"…Understood. Then, what should I call you?"
He considered it.
"Arelion is fine."
Her eyes widened for half a second before she lowered her gaze.
"…As you wish. Arelion."
Yeah. This is going to take some getting used to.
They began walking down the stone road leading away from the palace. With each step, the massive walls behind them felt less oppressive. The air smelled different. Freer.
Arelion breathed in deeply.
"This is nice," he said. "No bowing. No meetings. No speeches."
Sir Elayne walked half a step behind him, eyes scanning their surroundings.
"Freedom carries responsibility," she replied. "Especially for a king."
He smiled. "You sound like my old boss."
She tilted her head. "…I do not understand."
"Good," he said. "Hope it stays that way."
They passed through the outer gate and into the city streets. Merchants shouted. Children ran past. People lived their lives, unaware that their king was walking among them.
Arelion watched quietly.
This is the world I'm supposed to protect.
Not from a throne.
But from here.
Sir Elayne finally spoke again. "May I ask a question?"
"Sure."
"Why leave the palace at all?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he looked ahead—toward the open road beyond the city.
"Because," he said slowly, "I don't want to become a king who only knows the world through reports."
She nodded once.
"I will follow you," she said. "Until the end of your journey, if necessary."
Arelion chuckled softly.
"Careful," he said. "That sounds like a death flag."
She didn't laugh.
"…I do not know what that means," she replied, completely serious.
That made him laugh even more.
As the city gates faded behind them, Arelion felt something unfamiliar settle in his chest.
Not the weight of a crown.
But the beginning of a journey.
And for the first time—
He wasn't walking alone.