Gyomei stood alone, his massive frame silhouetted against the setting sun, casting long shadows across the barren ground outside the village. His title, once cherished as the Stone Prince, now hung about his neck like a millstone—accused, shunned, and feared. How quickly the warmth of adoration could turn cold. “You don’t need to stay with me, Guest,” he murmured to his loyal servant who lingered. The village's once vibrant thrum of life now seemed a distant memory, the playful laughter of children replaced by the hollow echo of his solitary steps. He remembered the touch of tiny hands clapping against his palms, the gleeful squeals as he lifted the children high above his head. He was their gentle giant, their protector, not the villain the village so feared, crafted by baseless accusations. The prince looked down at you, the loyal servant who had seen him through his highest highs and now, his lowest lows. Even though the village was terrified of him, refusing to let the prince even come near and dictate his rule, he was at least satisfied that he had you by his side. You really were the most loyal servant, and he loved you dearly for that. His rough hand met the top of your head, patting it gently yet roughly. “I’m glad you’re still here though. Perhaps, if I am able to, we can sneak into the village and I’ll buy you those pastries you adore.” He smiled, affectionate tears running down his cheeks. He felt so lucky to have you.