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As a child, Silas had often heard tales of noble knights rescuing princesses from all manner of evil beasts. That was one of the main reasons he’d become a knight in the first place, the mental image of riding in to rescue Sapphira from her freezing tower was irresistible. Of course, when he saw her again the mental image didn’t quite match up with the one that was standing before him. But he was too elated about seeing her again to care.
But if there was ever a time that Saphira looked like a princess, it was now. She wore a sparkling, sliver dress that matched her hair and flowed behind her like a stream. She glided the the steps, one hand resting lightly on the banister. She saw him amidst the crowd, dressed in a more formal version of his armour and moved to join him, linking arms with him when she did.
“You look handsome.” She said, kissing him on the forehead. Silas smiled, his cheeks reddening slightly. They walked over to the refreshments table -the servants had the night off- and they took a glimmering glass of champagne each. Silas’ arm slipped free of Saphira’s and he hooked it around her waist, pulling her close.
“You look like something out of a fairytale.” He murmured in her ear. She giggled softly, turning to him.
“And I suppose you would be my knight, riding in to rescue me?” She teased, hooking her arm around his waist and leading them away from the table. Silas chuckled, leaning against her.
“Something tells me you don’t need saving.”