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You’ll Have To Take My Word For It: 21, My muse is your muse’s loyal guard.
On a more frequent basis than infrequent, he felt that his services were just a formality. If there was one thing that was obvious to even the grandest of dullards, it was that his Master was not a man to be trifled with. Kingdoms and crusades aside, he was personally formidable, which was why few felt the desire to countermand his decisions. Given that strength and grandeur, Khan felt often that a court guard, and his position as personal guard, served little purpose to such a man.
But out of loyalty, he forsook the sting in his pride at the relative uselessness of his station. There were knights to guard the castle and police its citizens, whose daily utility far surpassed his own. Yet he knew another thing for certain - the Master of the keep was not one to abide with offal. If something, or someone, was not useful, they were not allowed to linger simply out of sentiment. Which meant that, for whatever reasons to his mind exclusively existed, there was some purpose to the silent, innocuous presence of a personal guard.
Attending to his typical evening report, he found the Master in his study, locked in seemingly deep examinations undoubtedly over his next conquest. “The tower is secure, sir,” he reported from the door, given he’d never been given permission or had reason to enter. Unlike the rest of the guard, he maintained the majority of the evening watch within the halls.
