"Young man?!" the guard snapped, pressing his sword even closer to Kisha's neck. "How dare you address the Queen's consort in such a disrespectful manner? You have absolutely no right to speak to Her Majesty's royal consort that way!"
"Queen consort?!" Kisha gasped, her eyes widening with disbelief as a mixture of shock, terror, and confusion flooded her face. "What do you mean by that?"
"Let go of her," came a calm yet authoritative voice.
Rhys stepped forward, his presence commanding. At once, the guard withdrew his sword, stepping back in deference. Rhys extended his hand to Kisha, who hesitated for a moment before grasping it. He gently helped her to her feet. Tears were now streaming down her cheeks, her body trembling slightly from the close encounter.
"You're the Queen's consort?" Kisha asked, her voice quivering, her brows raised in curiosity and disbelief. "The favored one... the one all the palace maids whisper about?"
