@saintism
The path of flowers had led him up into the overlook, a cliff and a field of flowers almost luminous against the shadows of the evening. Ahead, the impressive sight of the city’s skyline filled his eyes.
But there was another figure, a silhouette in the lights. Lancer’s eyes widened as he saw her, could it be?
“Saber?”
There was an inherent grace, a feeling he could not describe but instead sense. So similar, almost identical to the first time the King of Knights had crossed his path. But as he approached her, that impression dissipated, he knew he wasn’t before a Lord or a King, but instead someone closer to the people, the warmth of a hearth or a field of sunflowers.
“I apologize, miss. I confused you with someone else.” Diarmuid glanced away, almost averting his face, knowing the threat of his curse.
