Page 5 of Sweet on the Royal Guard

BENEDICT

The words flow from my fingertips like water, filling the screen with the story that’s been buzzing in my head all morning. I’m in the zone, that magical writerly trance where the real world fades and all that exists is the world in my head.

A heavy knock on the door nearly makes me jump out of my skin.

Grumbling, I push away from my desk and shuffle to the cottage door. When I swing it open, my irritation evaporates, replaced by a jolt of anxiety.

A royal guard stands ramrod straight on my doorstep.

“Mr. Montgomery?” His voice is clipped, all business.

“Yes?” My own voice comes out embarrassingly squeaky. I clear my throat. “Can I help you?”

“You need to come with me to the palace immediately.”

My stomach does a backflip. “The palace? Why? What’s going on?”

“I’m not at liberty to discuss details.”

Zeke. My heart rate kicks up a notch. “Is everything okay with Zeke? He works with you, right?”

The guard’s gaze warms a little. “Zeke’s fine. He’s waiting for you.”

“Um, okay. Just let me grab my things.”

I duck back inside, snatching my wallet and phone. I follow the guard to a sleek black car with windows so tinted they’re practically opaque.

Did someone find out about us? Is Zeke in trouble? Am I in trouble? Is this because he jumped the palace wall that one time?

I slide into the backseat, my palms sweaty. As we pull away from the cottage, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being whisked off to my doom.

“So,” I venture, trying for casual. “Nice day for a drive to the palace, huh?”

The guard’s eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror. His expression doesn’t change. “We’ll arrive shortly, Mr. Montgomery.”

Right. Clearly not a chatty fellow.

I slump back against the leather seat, my thoughts spiraling. What have I gotten myself into?

The car glides to a stop, and I step out, my jaw dropping at the sight before me. The Lydovian Palace looms, a breathtaking confection of gleaming white stone and gilded spires that make my cottage look like a shoebox.

I can’t see inside the walls from my yard, and I’ve never done one of the many guided palace tours. I never thought my first time inside would be with a royal guard on my heels.

“This way, Mr. Montgomery,” the guard says, leading me up marble steps.

I follow, acutely aware of my faded jeans and rumpled shirt. “I’m a little underdressed for the location,” I mutter.

The guard doesn’t respond, but I swear I see a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

We enter a grand foyer, and I’m surprised at how modern it looks, considering the architecture of the building.

Finally, we reach a set of glass doors. When we go through it, I see Zeke immediately.

He’s wearing his royal guard uniform and his light-blond hair has been combed into submission.

His posture is rigid, hands clasped behind his back. It’s jarring to see him like this—no easy smile, no warmth in those blue eyes.

“Thank you,” Zeke says to the guard, and then he turns to me. “Please follow me.”

I do as he asks and follow him into a conference room with a large oval glass table and a wall filled with screens.

We’re alone, but Zeke maintains his distance. My heart sinks. What’s going on?

“Benni—Bennedict,” he says, his voice formal. “I’m sorry for making you come here all of a sudden.”

I swallow hard. “Zeke, what’s happening? You’re scaring me.”

He takes a step closer, and I see the struggle in his eyes—duty warring with the desire to comfort me. “I’m sorry,” he says softly. “Something happened, and I need you to help me.”

My mind races. “Help you? I’ll help you with anything. I hope you know that.”

He opens a folder on the table and takes out a newspaper.

His professional mask slips for a moment, revealing a flash of concern. “Benedict, who are you?”

He unfolds the paper, and my world implodes.

There, splashed across the front page in full color, is a photo of us. Kissing. In my backyard. It must have been taken the morning after he stayed over. The headline screams: REVEALED: The Secret Hideout of Benedict Montgomery!

I can’t breathe. The room spins as memories flood back—paparazzi, invasive questions, my privacy shattered. Everything I’d run from, everything I’d built my quiet life to avoid. It’s all crashing down around me.

“No,” I whisper, stumbling backward. “No, no, no…”

Zeke reaches for me, but I flinch away. “Benedict,” he says, his voice gentle. “Talk to me. Why is this photo such a big deal? I know it’s an invasion of privacy, but your reaction… There’s more to it, isn’t there?”

I want to explain, but panic claws at my throat. My thoughts are a jumbled mess of fear and flight instincts. Run. Hide. Protect yourself.

“I can’t,” I choke out. “I can’t do this again. The scrutiny, the judgment, my whole life picked apart…”

Zeke’s brow furrows. “Again? Benedict, what do you mean?”

But I’m spiraling, my breath coming in short gasps. The walls feel like they’re closing in. I need air. I need to escape.

“I have to go,” I manage, backing toward the door. “I’m sorry, Zeke. I just… I can’t.”

I fumble for the doorknob, my vision blurring with unshed tears. As I wrench the door open, I hear Zeke call after me, his voice a mix of confusion and concern. “Benedict, wait! Please, let me help you!”

I pause, my hand on the doorknob, Zeke’s plea echoing in my ears. My heart pounds like it wants to break free from my chest, but something in his voice makes me hesitate. I turn back, meeting his concerned gaze, and suddenly, the words I’ve held back for so long come tumbling out.

“I come from media royalty.” I laugh at the words I’ve heard all my life because now I’m standing in an actual royal palace. “My dad owned one of the biggest news agencies in the US. I grew up in the public eye and learned early on that I was expected to behave a certain way.”

Zeke’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t interrupt. He just nods, encouraging me to continue.

“When I was fourteen, I was caught kissing a friend. The photo wasn’t that clear, but the tabloids, the paparazzi…

? They were relentless,” I say, sinking into a nearby chair.

“My dad sat me down and told me he would take care of it for me. I didn’t know what it meant.

It wasn’t until weeks later that I discovered my friend had moved to a different state.

I was so upset because he was my best friend, and I thought he liked me like I liked him.

He was going to be my first boyfriend. Of course my dad couldn’t have the image of his perfect family tarnished by a gay heir. ”

“Oh, Benedict, I’m so sorry that happened to you,” Zeke says, reaching over to hold my hand.

“It was fine. I also learned very quickly that there were many other guys like me in the social circles. We were all in the closet together, and as long as we could keep it that way, we could keep pretending to the rest of the world.”

“Why did you run to Lydovia?” Zeke asks.

I meet his eyes. Zeke plays the player so well, but I know he has much more depth than he lets show.

“My parents both died a few years ago. I didn’t come out then because old habits die hard, and I was in love with someone who was also not out.

Nothing would change for us, so I was happy to have what I could from him.

Someone we both knew orchestrated a stunt with the press and outed us.

I found out later that the guy I’d been seeing was also seeing the other guy. ”

“So you were outed and hurt all at the same time,” Zeke says.

“Yes.” I run a hand through my hair, feeling the familiar weight of those memories pressing down on me. “That’s why I came to Lydovia. To disappear. To just…be me. Without the world watching.”

Zeke moves closer, his presence oddly comforting. “Benedict, I had no idea. That must have been incredibly difficult.”

I nod, feeling a strange mix of relief and terror at having shared this part of myself. “It was. And now, with this photo… God, Zeke, I can feel it all coming back. The panic, the loss of control. I don’t know if I can face that again.”

As I speak, I feel the old urge to retreat, to return to the cottage, pack my bags, and run.

Zeke leans in, his blue eyes filled with understanding. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I can’t imagine how scary this must be for you.”

I laugh, but it comes out more like a sob. “Terrifying. But also…kind of liberating? I’ve never told anyone about what happened. You know, what wasn’t reported by the media. It feels… I don’t know. Real.”

“It is real,” Zeke says softly. “You’re real, Benedict. Not the image they created, not the headlines. Just you. And that’s more than enough.”

I feel a lump forming in my throat. “Even with all this baggage?”

Zeke smiles, reaching out to take my hand. “Especially with the baggage. It’s part of what makes you…you.”

For a moment, we just sit there, hands clasped, the weight of my revelation hanging between us. And for the first time since seeing that damned newspaper, I feel like maybe, just maybe, I’m not facing this alone.

Zeke’s thumb traces gentle circles on my hand, and I focus on that small point of contact, anchoring myself in the present.

“Listen, Benedict,” he says, his voice low and earnest. “You’re not alone in this. Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”

I want to believe him. God, I want to. But the cynic in me, the part that’s been burned before, can’t help but push back.

“You say that now, but…” I swallow hard, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “Zeke, this could cost you your job. Your entire career. I can’t ask you to risk that for me.”

His brow furrows, a flash of worry crossing his face. “I won’t lie, the security breach is…concerning. You’re in the media, and I’m a royal guard. There will be consequences.” He takes a deep breath. “But what we have is special too.”

What we have. The words echo in my mind, and I feel a surge of panic. It’s too much, too fast. I can already see the headlines, the scrutiny, the loss of the quiet life I’ve built here in Lydovia. I’m not even meant to still be here, but the peace I feel in this country has fueled my creativity.

“I—I need some air,” I stammer, pulling my hand away and standing abruptly. The room feels too small, too confining. “I’m sorry, I just…need a minute.”

I don’t wait for his response, just hurry to the balcony doors and step outside. The warm air hits my face, and it feels stifling.

“Benedict?” Zeke’s voice is soft, tentative. I hear his footsteps approaching, slow and deliberate. “I know this is overwhelming. But please, don’t shut me out.”

I close my eyes, willing the panic to subside. “I’m not…I’m not trying to,” I manage. “It’s just… It’s a reflex at this point.”

Zeke comes to stand beside me, close but not touching. I can feel the warmth radiating from him, and it takes everything in me not to lean into it.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he says gently. “Even if it’s messy or doesn’t make sense. I want to understand.”

I let out a shaky laugh. “You might regret asking that.” But I face him, forcing myself to meet those kind blue eyes. “I’m thinking… I’m thinking I’m terrified. I want to run and hide and never come out again. I’m not sure I’m strong enough to face all of this.”

Zeke nods, his expression serious. “Those are valid feelings, Benedict. But you don’t have to be strong alone. That’s what I’m trying to tell you—we can face this together.”

“But at what cost to you?” I counter, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “Your career, your reputation… I’ve been through this before, Zeke. It’s not just headlines and gossip. It’s relentless. It changes everything.”

He reaches out slowly, giving me time to pull away. When I don’t, he takes my hand, his thumb tracing soothing circles on my skin. “Maybe it does,” he admits. “But some changes are worth it.”

I stare at our joined hands, torn between the urge to cling tighter and the instinct to pull away. “I don’t know if I can do this,” I whisper. “I need to be alone. I’m sorry.”