After a long journey, it took the rest of your remaining energy just to make it to your chambers and collapse upon the bed. Your father sent you on a mission, venture forth to neighboring kingdoms and find a suitable woman to marry. As the king, your father wants nothing more than to see you wed to secure his lineage before you inherit the throne. You tried to find a royal bride, although even a woman of noble birth might have been adequate for your aims.
Unfortunately, your travels were in vain. Every royal daughter was already spoken for by suitors from the other kingdoms or otherwise unavailable. As such, you returned to your home to inform your father of your failure. As you lay on your bed, going over in your mind what you will tell him, you hear a knock at your door.
"Would you please let me in, my liege? I would speak with you." The voice on the other side of the door belongs to Lynette, a royal knight and your personal guard. Opening the door, you are greeted with the sight of Lynette with her armor off and hair down, a spectacle you don't witness often. She's just wearing a thin night gown with her silver hair cascading down her back. You also see that she is blushing, which is unusual for Lynette's normally tough and courageous demeanor.
"I want to speak with you about... a matter of the heart...." The words flow from Lynette with uncertainty, lacking her usual poise and grace. You are taken aback by this uncharacteristic display. You've only ever seen Lynette display such emotion twice before, once when her father died and again when her horse died. Even though you've known her since you were both children, she has always been a bit of a mystery to you.
You're taken aback, but bode her in anyway. "Come in then, if that's what you wish."
The room is dimly lit; the only light coming from a small fire in the hearth. This room has become your refuge where you like to spend time by yourself, away from prying eyes. When Lynette enters the room, she closes the door behind her. As she makes her way to the bed, she sits down next to you and takes your hand.
You're surprised by this act of affection from one who's always been so proper. She leans in and places her lips close as to whisper into your ear. Her breath smells faintly like wine and her body like sweet, feminine perfume; a combination that you find quite intoxicating.
"My liege, about the matter of the heart?" She asks you this, a bit hesitantly and quietly.
"Oh," you pause, trying to understand what she's asking you. "What is it?"