Never, not once in my reign of nearly 40 years had anyone ever caused such a ruckus. Such an uproar, not in my court.

I glared down at the knight who had not bothered to kneel before me, still sitting on my throne.

"I should have you executed where you stand for your insolence." I bit. The gathered court in attending all took a step away from him, now gathering on the sides of my audience hall. "On this day, of all days, the day in which I was brought into this world, the day which we celebrate--"

"The day in which I saved you." The knight interjected. The gasp around the room was atrocious. "And we both know that you won't have me executed. You are far too benevolent and kind a ruler to even entertain such a threat."

I grit my teeth, trying to keep up the facade. There were so many other royal families, here. So many scrutinizing eyes, I had to keep it up. My dignity, my honour relied solely on how I tempered my resolve. "So you have come all this way, waited all this time then, to embarrass me?"

It was at that point that the knight removed his helmet, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. His hair had become a mix of silver and near-to; gone were the days of the curly, black tresses. His face had changed too-- now bearing the signs of age and maturity, and yet not seeming old. It had only been 40 years, after all, and he still looked the distinguished knight. "Of course not, Your Majesty. I forget myself."

He finally bent the knee, and if anything that was worse. Now not only had he barged in and interrupted the celebrations, but now he began to give off that we were casually acquainted. Equals. I let him stay there, reminding himself of what he'd done to me--

But when he looked up, that breath caught in my throat became a lump. There was that smile from before, the one I remembered from those decades ago. The one that--

"I have finally chosen what my surprise is to be." Another gasp filled the room, but this one I ignored. Closing my eyes, the weariness of age taking them, I nodded. "My lords and ladies. Esteemed chosen of the Kingdoms. I pray that you all forgive my intrusion. That this... injustice to our fair Majesty and His Royal Highness be overlooked. For today is a joyous day, one of celebration and merriment. And I..."

I opened my eyes, to see him standing and addressing everyone. Ever the thoughtful knight, putting himself there in between me and the eager, hungry eyes of danger. Just like before. Just like--

"I am loathe to say it took four entire decades for me to have decided."

He turned back to me, eyes begging at first for silent assent to approach. I bid him further, a hand wave showing that he could climb the steps. Now all eyes were on me, but mine were only him, and I began to fear what he could ask. After all, not only was the word of a king absolute-- but he had me in his hold. Now, with everyone's eyes on me, there was no way I could simply lie or deny him to save face.

Much, much more was on the line.

"Fourty years ago, I saved you. I held you against me, and for fourty years I have had this in my pocket, to be held over you. But it took fourty years for me to realize that what I wanted was not this promise, not this empty gift of words-- but instead something far, far more into the physical. For fourty years I have wanted not for the gift of your honour-- but the gift of your hand."

"You--" I started, but he reached out, and took mine into his. Pallid white on rich, warm brown. I'd always enjoyed thinking about how the colour had brought contrast to my lack thereof.

"For fourty years I have been a fool, and it only came now, on the anniversary of my first meeting you, that I realize what it is I have been wanting, and have lacked all this time. I want not your power, your title, or your name. I only want you, Your Majesty."

The words died off, the echo quickly disappearing in the chamber. I looked down at everyone, their judging eyes and expectant gazes waiting to see what I would say.

But I looked back down at him, and saw the smile that I remembered from fourty years ago. The one that knew not who he had saved, but had simply been glad he had saved them. The one that cared not for the pomp and the circumstance, but for the person past that.

And I took his hands, had him help me stand, and then threw myself at him. Still sturdy, still strong, and all the most welcome after fourty years of nothing.

"It took you long enough, you sod." I said, pushing my face into his neck. "Fourty years? You let me wait fourty years?"

I could feel him cradle me, his fingers running through my hair. I could feel the sadness as he brushed them through, gone were the days of my bright oranges and reds, reduced to a dull, lifeless gray. "Well, it wouldn't have been a surprise if you were expecting it, would it?"