Saphire took a deep breath and straightened his court clothes, readying himself for his audience with Amelia. He glanced in the mirror on the wall and smiled slightly at the clean-shaven young man who stared back at him from the other side of the glass. His skin was pale and smooth, though there was a pair of freckles just beside his nose on either side. His head turned when the door opened, a page standing beside the door.
"Sir Saphire Gryers, Her Highness Princess Amelia will see you now," the young boy dressed in dark green stated.
Saphire nodded, adjusting the ruffles on the collar of his white silk shirt once more. His light blue coat hung down to his knees in panels that split at his hips. The blue matched his eyes and was offset by somewhat clinging black pants. Saphire had never considered himself a peacock before, but he wanted to make an impression on Amelia and keep her from figuring out who he was before he wanted her to. He nodded finally and swept past the young man, his grey boot heels not making a sound on the white marble floor. He'd considered getting dressier shoes, but decided against it. The boots fit fine, weren't that old, and were a style that he preferred.
Amelia sat in her red velvet cushioned throne beside her father's. He'd finally become the king, his father having died after hanging on for so long. Saphire stared, his mouth open. She was wearing a pearl dress the swirls of color a pearl possessed were replicated perfectly in the fabric. Her hair was pulled into a bun on top of her head with her bangs down. Upon her hair sat a tiara of pearls and diamonds. Her body had certainly changed over the years. She was taller for one thing and much more developed. She stared back at him then shook her head, blushing.
Saphire remembered himself and bowed deeply, "Your Highness," he said softly, coming forward from the door that had been closed behind him softly by the page. "You look even more beautiful then I'd imagined," he told her, unable to keep himself from saying so. It was true. He'd expected her to look exactly the same, forgetting that she was now nearly twenty-four.
Amelia blushed softly, her innocent freckles had faded over the years, leaving only the darkest ones still visible. "Sir," she said softly, "You flatter me."
"Of course I do," he replied, finding it hard not to revert to his usual stance of arms crossed and weight leaned to one side.
Amelia sighed softly, "I have to warn you though, you're not going to succeed. My heart belongs to someone already."
"Oh?" Saphire asked, almost daring to hope.
"But he left a long time ago," she got up and slowly descended the steps to look up into Saphire's eyes. "You remind me of him though." She looked away. He turned his face downward, clenching his fist, almost pumping it in joy. Amelia mistook, "I'm sorry. I don't like doing this to men..."
He took her hand and bowed deeply over it, "Please allow me the chance to try?" he asked softly of her, lifting his face to look at her pleadingly.
"I can't deny you that," she replied softly, looking mournfully at his face.
"Then might I invite you to lunch? It is almost time," Saphire replied, his chest constricting as he regarded her age-refined features. Light glittered though the skylights in her dark purple hair and he found himself entranced by the shine.
"You may," she replied, "My friends will be joining us though. I hope you don't mind." He shook his head, he had heard that Lina and Gourry were in the area, he'd expected that they'd drop in for free food. Amelia removed her hand from within his grasp and he realized that he'd still been holding onto it and blushed. "This way," Amelia said and glided toward the door.
Saphire trailed after her, watching her with longing eyes. She'd lost that clumsiness of her youth and replaced it with graceful movements fit for one of royal lineage. He wondered weather he should tell her or not, but shook his head, deciding against it.
"Sir Saphire Gryers, Her Highness Princess Amelia will see you now," the young boy dressed in dark green stated.
Saphire nodded, adjusting the ruffles on the collar of his white silk shirt once more. His light blue coat hung down to his knees in panels that split at his hips. The blue matched his eyes and was offset by somewhat clinging black pants. Saphire had never considered himself a peacock before, but he wanted to make an impression on Amelia and keep her from figuring out who he was before he wanted her to. He nodded finally and swept past the young man, his grey boot heels not making a sound on the white marble floor. He'd considered getting dressier shoes, but decided against it. The boots fit fine, weren't that old, and were a style that he preferred.
Amelia sat in her red velvet cushioned throne beside her father's. He'd finally become the king, his father having died after hanging on for so long. Saphire stared, his mouth open. She was wearing a pearl dress the swirls of color a pearl possessed were replicated perfectly in the fabric. Her hair was pulled into a bun on top of her head with her bangs down. Upon her hair sat a tiara of pearls and diamonds. Her body had certainly changed over the years. She was taller for one thing and much more developed. She stared back at him then shook her head, blushing.
Saphire remembered himself and bowed deeply, "Your Highness," he said softly, coming forward from the door that had been closed behind him softly by the page. "You look even more beautiful then I'd imagined," he told her, unable to keep himself from saying so. It was true. He'd expected her to look exactly the same, forgetting that she was now nearly twenty-four.
Amelia blushed softly, her innocent freckles had faded over the years, leaving only the darkest ones still visible. "Sir," she said softly, "You flatter me."
"Of course I do," he replied, finding it hard not to revert to his usual stance of arms crossed and weight leaned to one side.
Amelia sighed softly, "I have to warn you though, you're not going to succeed. My heart belongs to someone already."
"Oh?" Saphire asked, almost daring to hope.
"But he left a long time ago," she got up and slowly descended the steps to look up into Saphire's eyes. "You remind me of him though." She looked away. He turned his face downward, clenching his fist, almost pumping it in joy. Amelia mistook, "I'm sorry. I don't like doing this to men..."
He took her hand and bowed deeply over it, "Please allow me the chance to try?" he asked softly of her, lifting his face to look at her pleadingly.
"I can't deny you that," she replied softly, looking mournfully at his face.
"Then might I invite you to lunch? It is almost time," Saphire replied, his chest constricting as he regarded her age-refined features. Light glittered though the skylights in her dark purple hair and he found himself entranced by the shine.
"You may," she replied, "My friends will be joining us though. I hope you don't mind." He shook his head, he had heard that Lina and Gourry were in the area, he'd expected that they'd drop in for free food. Amelia removed her hand from within his grasp and he realized that he'd still been holding onto it and blushed. "This way," Amelia said and glided toward the door.
Saphire trailed after her, watching her with longing eyes. She'd lost that clumsiness of her youth and replaced it with graceful movements fit for one of royal lineage. He wondered weather he should tell her or not, but shook his head, deciding against it.
