"My lady," he rasped, clutching his side where a deep gash oozed blood.

Aria rushed to his side, sheathing her sword and wrapping an arm around his shoulders to support him.

"Marcus, you're injured," she murmured, her brow creased with concern.

He waved her off, his jaw set in a stubborn line.

"A mere flesh wound, my queen," he insisted, though his pallor belied the severity of his wound. "I've endured far worse in service to you and the kingdom."

Aria fixed him with a pointed look, her eyes narrowing.

"Do not lie to me, my friend," she chided gently. "Your loyalty knows no bounds, but I will not have...