The golden banners of Goldmoor swayed in the high-vaulted hall, sunlight streaming through windows to gild the polished stone. Courtiers gathered in nervous clusters, their whispers subdued as King Alex and Queen Jeanne entered, regal side by side.

At their heels padded Casper, the cougar’s tawny coat gleaming in the light. Where guards stood with steel, Casper carried no weapon but his presence. His amber eyes swept the chamber, and silence followed in his wake.

A messenger stumbled forward, breathless with tidings of unrest beyond the borders. Unease rippled through the court. Jeanne’s hand gripped the throne’s arm as tension weighed heavy, but Casper pressed against her side, a low rumble steadying her resolve.

Alex’s gaze fell upon the cougar, and a flicker of pride touched his stern features. “Even our fiercest knights could not hold this hall so still,” he said quietly, for Jeanne’s ears alone.

The Queen rose, steadied by the cougar’s grounding presence. Her voice rang out, firm and clear: “Goldmoor will not falter. We endure.” The courtiers lifted their heads, emboldened by her certainty.

When the hall emptied, Alex laid a hand on Jeanne’s shoulder, his other brushing Casper’s sleek back. “Your strength, my voice, and his silence,” he said softly. “Goldmoor could ask for no better guardians.”

Casper lifted his head, amber eyes reflecting the sunlight on the golden banners. In that quiet moment, the King, the Queen, and the cougar stood as one each a pillar of loyalty, resolve, and unspoken bond.