He is madly in love. He is in love with her hair, the fine silk threads that fall behind her mind. He is in love with her smile, what he believes is the quintessential cure for despondency. For his despondency. No one makes a better best friend than her. Nothing could change his certainty.
Besides his rapidly changing feelings. He knows he wants her more than a best friend. He wants her. So he vows, he shall have her.
Since they were children, she had stolen his heart away. No surprise, he thinks, she was so enchanting, and even now she bewitches him. Their meeting was rather cliché, he reminisces with a grin.
Something out of a fairytale, in her little white dress that matched her hair and the simper she made while holding out her hand to him. She squealed to him, "I'm Corrin! Let's play nice from now on!"
His teeth began to show through his smile as she roughly took his hand and dragged him to another room in the castle.
"Now you play the knight, and I'll play me, the princess in distress, ya' know."
After hours of her fake wailing in anguish and his declarations to save her, they sprawled across the hall room carpet laughing. Their faces were red, her hair was a mess, and his shirt became wrinkled.
She sat up, and he followed in suit.
"Say, Silas," she began pouty.
"Yes, Princess Corrin?"
She waved her hand down and scrunched her nose. "Oh don't call me princess, that's so serious."
His heart raced three miles a second. She wanted him to call her by first name? The sweet, Nohrian princess with cream cheeks, wanted him to call her by her first name? Corrin. His crush on her grew bigger by the minute.
"Anyways," she continued. "How come you're not a prince? I know you're of nobility, but if you were a prince I could marry you."
His face flushed as pink as the morning sky.
"But oh well, maybe you could become a knight and steal me away!" she laughed, standing up and smiling at him.
His smile fades away. She said those words years and years ago. She said such wonderful nothings—that meant so many some-things to him—a very long time ago. Yet, he would not stop until he at least attempted to have her. To have her, he thinks, is such a dangerous thought.
A dangerous thought as he realizes he could easily become addicted to thinking. Someone like her, her love would never be guaranteed. He would never stop. A knight? He laughs to himself. He would become a great knight for her if she needed him to, if they were to be together, if they were to see the world together. He knows he will not be able to give her the world, but he could show it to her.
She is his world. After all these years, his life revolves around her because she is his world. He should be able to see her soon, his promotion as a cavalier became a step closer to her, a step closer to his best friend. He hopes she stayed patient. Her knight would come.
But he did not imagine for her knight to come like this. To fight against her, to kill her, he did not become a Nohrian solider for this. His princess now points her sword at him, no longer distraught. Not only defeating him, she cannot recall who he is. He feels his heart plummet to the center of the earth.
Yet, her warm smile and cream cheeks stay the same. She asks him to join her, and he feels his purpose grow again. However, he seems to feel more than just that. A crush? He furrows his eyebrows while watching her practice and swing her blade. Is that sincerely how he feels about his princess?
His feelings are changing. He feels so much more than admiration. He has become besotted with her very being. The words that come out of her soft lips, the white hair that reminded him of Nohr's bright moon, and her summery red eyes, he loves every inch.
He swears so much more than his loyalty to his sweetheart. He swears his undying trust, he swears his infinite faith, and most importantly, he swears his love. He makes vows he shall never break, and dreams of the day she shall make the very same vows to him, as his wife.
Yet, that day may never come. And he becomes confused as to why this must be. He sits there while she practices, sweat forming atop her temple. She stops for a break, panting. He smiles at her across the courtyard and she returns the favor waving, but quickly her body turns away and her lips deliver a wider smile than the one he received.
The smile on his own face twists downward, he cannot understand why she loves him so. He has been rude and distrusting of her for quite some time. Distrusting of her. How could anyone not trust her? The sincerity of his beloved princess could never hold more true, but this prince from Hoshido has seemed to think differently. Yet, all of a sudden, he seems to finally treat her right.
All of a sudden, they seem to be in love. She is in love. He knows her vows will not be made to him anymore. He has tried, and she will not be his. After all, princesses did not marry knights. They married other princes.