So you do recognize me.

Oh yes, you recognize me. I can tell by the way you watch me. You treat me like a wild animal, like I’ll snap and attack you at any moment. Or maybe that’s not it. Whatever it is, you don’t trust me.

The nobles don’t trust me either. I’m new, in a way. I’m different. And I change. But they aren’t wary of me like you are. I’m just a guy to them. They are filled with moonlight.

But you are afraid of me. You remember that bloody night in your courtyard. You remember that I was the one who did the killing then, even if it was all for you. And it scares you, doesn’t it?

I’ve seen your fear as you gaze at me from across the hall. I’m tempted to ask you to dance, like I did that one night. You are so beautiful that I long to do so. But I know you will decline. I can see it in your eyes.

I’ve followed you out to the courtyard more times that I can count now. I don’t even know how long it’s been since I returned. I don’t get hungry, though there is always plenty of food at your nightly balls. It’s all beginning to become a blur. Dance, and watch you, follow you, and watch you, get some sleep, and dream of you, and repeat it all the next day.

Despite your rejection of me, the moonlight cannot touch me. It tries harder and harder every night. It even comes to me as a woman when I sleep. But I will stay loyal to you. My love shall not fail, even though it may never be expressed in more than killing.

Yet I see something besides fear in your eyes when I look at you recently. Perhaps it is a glimmer of hope. You seem to be thinking that, were I not a warrior, I would be acceptable. Of course, I am a warrior. I carry a the sword that my Master left me, even here, to remind me of that. I am a warrior so that I will feel worthy of you.

But when I look at you I feel that you would prefer me otherwise. Like you would want me as just a man. Perhaps that may be so, but I cannot accept that. I love you, completely, but I am still a warrior, and I have been nothing but a warrior since I picked up that knife to defend you from the moonlit nobles.

And because I cannot accept what you would want of me, I think I shall leave. This place is frozen and stale. I am slowly losing my individuality to the never-changing nature of your balls. And I am afraid that if I stay much longer I might be willing to lay down my sword for you. And to me that would be disaster.

So I have one thing I would say to you, before I leave.

I’m not going to change my ways just to please you.