A Kiss For A Knight’s Ladye

Jason adjusted his tie, glancing around the crowded lobby of the Grand Regent Theatre. The scent of popcorn and perfume mingled in the air, the murmur of excited theatergoers buzzing around him. Beside him, Wendy skimmed the program for Tarnished Silver, her fingers tracing the embossed lettering on the cover. 

“I still can’t believe we got tickets,” she said, her voice tinged with excitement. “It’s been sold out for months.”

Jason smiled. “It took some maneuvering, but I couldn’t let you miss this.”

They had been best friends since college, bound by a love of literature, history, and the arts. Over the years, their friendship had deepened, but neither had dared to push the boundaries into something more. At least, not until tonight—if Jason could summon the courage.

As they found their seats and the lights dimmed, the overture swelled, sweeping them into the tragic tale of Lancelot and Guinevere. From their first meeting during the maying festival to their secret rendezvous, the doomed lovers’ journey played out in haunting melodies and breathtaking choreography. The actors’ voices carried heartbreak and longing, each note carving itself into Jason’s chest.

He stole a glance at Wendy. Her face was bathed in the glow of the stage lights, her eyes shining with emotion. She always got lost in stories like this, completely absorbed, as if she were living the tale herself.

By the time the first act ended, Jason felt like he had been holding his breath. The curtain fell, applause erupted, and the house lights brightened, signaling intermission. Wendy turned to him, her expression unreadable.

“This is…” She let out a breath, shaking her head as if she couldn’t find the words. “It’s beautiful. Heartbreaking, but beautiful.”

Jason nodded. “Yeah. It really is.”

They stood, stretching their legs, making their way into the lobby with the rest of the crowd. Wendy looped her arm through his as they walked, a casual gesture that sent warmth flooding through him. He had always loved the way she felt so at ease with him. And yet, there was a part of him that wanted something more—something deeper than friendship, something lasting.

They stopped near the grand staircase, away from the crush of people lining up for drinks and souvenirs. Wendy turned to him, tilting her head. “What are you thinking?”

Jason hesitated. He could play it safe, make a joke, steer the conversation back to the musical. Or he could take the risk that had been pressing against his ribs for years.

“The way Lancelot looked at her,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost lost in the hum of the crowd. “Like he knew he shouldn’t love her, but he couldn’t stop himself.”

Wendy studied him for a moment. “Yeah,” she said softly. “I noticed that too.”

Jason swallowed, his pulse pounding in his ears. “I think I know how that feels.”

A flicker of understanding passed across Wendy’s face, something vulnerable and unspoken settling in her eyes. She took a small step closer. “Jason…”

He wasn’t sure who moved first—maybe it was her, maybe it was him—but suddenly the space between them disappeared. Her lips met his in a kiss that was both hesitant and certain, a moment years in the making. The world around them faded, the murmurs of the crowd dimming as Jason felt the softness of her lips, the warmth of her hand resting lightly against his chest.

When they finally pulled apart, Wendy exhaled a breathless laugh. “Well,” she murmured, a teasing glint in her eyes. “That was unexpected.”

Jason chuckled, though his heart still thundered. “I was hoping it wasn’t unwelcome.”

She smiled, shaking her head. “Not even a little.”

Relief flooded through him, along with something else—something exhilarating and terrifying all at once. They had crossed a line, stepped into new territory. But as he looked at her, standing in the glow of the theater’s chandeliers, he knew with certainty that it was a risk worth taking.

The bells chimed, signaling the end of intermission. Wendy took his hand, lacing her fingers through his. “Come on,” she said. “We don’t want to miss the rest.”

Jason squeezed her hand, a quiet promise passing between them. As they walked back into the theater, he realized that, for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t just watching a love story—he was living one.

Later that night, Wendy floated through her apartment, still giddy as a schoolgirl from the kiss. Her mind replayed the moment again and again—the way Jason’s hand had rested on her back, the warmth of his lips, the way the entire world had seemed to stop. 

She collapsed onto her bed with a dreamy sigh, closing her eyes. Sleep came quickly, and with it, a vivid dream.

She was Guinevere, the maying festival in full bloom around her, ribbons of color fluttering through the air. She turned and saw Lancelot—Jason—standing just beyond the throng of dancers, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that stole her breath away.

They moved toward each other as if drawn by an unseen force, their hands meeting, fingers entwining. The music faded, the world quieting until it was just the two of them. He whispered her name, and she felt it resonate deep within her, a name filled with unspoken promises and forbidden longing.

The dream shifted—castle walls rose around them, torches flickering in the midnight breeze. Jason—Lancelot—reached for her, but this time, there was no court, no Arthur, no betrayal looming over them. Just love, pure and untainted.

She woke with a start, the remnants of the dream still clinging to her, her heart aching in the most wonderful way.

With a soft smile, she touched her lips, as if trying to capture the memory of the kiss once more.

Maybe, just maybe, this was only the beginning of their story…

Meanwhile, Jason lay in bed, staring at the dark ceiling with a goofy smile plastered on his face. He didn’t sleep. He didn’t even try. The adrenaline from the kiss and everything it meant coursed through him, keeping him wide awake. Every time he closed his eyes, he could still feel Wendy’s lips against his, the way she had leaned into him, the way her fingers had curled lightly against his chest.

His heart thudded against his ribs. They had been friends for so long, and now… now everything was different. Better.

He exhaled a laugh, running a hand over his face. Sleep could wait. For now, he was perfectly content lying there, reliving the moment again and again, until morning finally came.