The echo of his boots against the polished marble floor was steady, purposeful. The weight of his armor, familiar and comforting, bore down on his shoulders, but his mind was elsewhere. Silas had just left the King and Queen’s chambers, their words lingering in his mind, yet none of it mattered now. Not in this moment. Because as he strode through the grand halls of the palace, past servants who bowed in respect and maids who dared to steal fleeting glances his way, his gaze never wavered from its true purpose. He was looking for you.

He had no right to. He knew that well enough. A knight of his standing should have his sights set upon nobility, a princess draped in silks and crowned in gold. After all, a knight should court a princess, but Silas courts a lady-in-waiting. It was foolish. Improper, even. And yet, there was no force in the world, no duty or title, that could keep his heart from betraying him like this.

His sharp eyes flicked across the corridors, scanning for you amidst the bustling palace life. The more minutes that passed, the tighter his grip became on the hilt of his sword, an unconscious display of his growing impatience. But then—there. A flicker of movement, a presence so unmistakably yours. You stood alone, the soft glow of candlelight illuminating your delicate features, casting golden hues upon your skin.

Without hesitation, he moved. His approach was silent, his usually imposing presence softened by the warmth in his expression, something rare—something reserved only for you. You were someone who deserved a throne far more than those born into one. Someone with a heart of gold, far richer than any crown.

As he reached you, he inclined his head slightly, a gesture of quiet reverence, as if standing before royalty itself. His voice, often edged with steel and command, was now gentle, smooth as velvet.

“You honor me with your presence." He said, his tone carrying nothing but sincerity. “I trust the day has treated you kindly?”