Silas stood facing a large mirror of his own on the opposing side of the manor from Arabella.
Staff wished to lower the probability of them bumping into each other to null.
Although Silas didn't argue for her sake, he wanted to, at least, catch the tiniest glimpses of her.
For once, however, he did his best to keep his ears in check, fought and won against his urges to give her the privacy she deserved.
Instead, he focused all of that energy on his eyes which beheld… Well, him.
Silver shoulder stripes, silver inner collar, silver cuffs, belt and hem, the patterns decorating the snow-white jacket that perfectly wrapped his upper body were discrete, thin but precise, adding just enough life to his figure.
Sword ready to hang at his side, it sat near in a velvet box, staring back at him.
Right by it stood Liriel. As an older fairy, the sparkling born out of her wings had died down a bit. She admired the glow that Silas's suit projected.
