A Knight in Rusty Armor (and in love)

[4] Sweet Dreams

The halls are quiet by the time I head to my bedchambers.

The other Knights must have explored the castle and continued socializing, but I got distracted poking around in the library. They've got all sorts of books on magical creatures in there, and I do so enjoy reading about them. My dream, after all, is to run a rescue. People get domesticated mini-dragons these days just because they think they're cool, and then abandon them as soon as they set a few household appliances on fire. Which is like abandoning a puppy because it peed on the carpet once. All of those creatures need a place to go, so why not start up a rescue for that purpose?

I'll probably never be able to do that, though. Not as long as my last name is what it is.

I raise the candle I was given slightly higher. The people here are really dedicated to the whole medieval thing. They could have just given me a flashlight, but no— I'm holding a weird little dish with a burning candle in it.

This place is strange, I think to myself. It's like a 24/7 renaissance fair or something. I saw witches and blacksmiths lining the streets and accepting payment in gold coins, but I also think I spotted at least a few smartphones. Or their own weird magical versions of them, anyway. If this is the way the people here like to live, I won't judge them for it. I just can't help but find it amusing.

There aren't too many kingdoms like this left anymore— not in the USA. Most of them get turned into protected nature attractions or amusement parks at some point. Corporate greed tends to overwhelm people's appreciation for pretty castles, and as it gets harder and harder to make money selling potions or catching fish, people often have no choice but to give in. It's a shame, but maybe someday people will find a way to make the two worlds coexist a little better.

My room is at the very end of the hallway. Just as I reach the door, I hear someone trying to get my attention in a whisper. I step a couple of doors to my left, to where the voice is coming from. I immediately recognize Daniel Pridebanner, even when his face is illuminated at odd angles by the flickering candlelight. He's the one who cut my nose, after all.

"I just wanted to apologize again," he whispers. "I didn't mean to cut anybody. Hope it didn't hurt too bad."

Another door, the one right beside Daniel's, opens the second the words leave his mouth, like the man inside was waiting.

"And I'd like to offer my apologies for my companion's frequent idiocy, on his behalf. Possibly in advance. I'm normally better at keeping him in line, but he does still manage somehow."

I blink at Serin Ridgeworth, whose mysterious eyes are oddly shiny in this light. I thought that they were an olive green color, and they are, for the most part, but I can also see flecks of gold. I feel like his hair is a strange color, too. It's a mousy shade of brown that almost looks grey.

"Your companion? ...Do you two already know each other?"

Daniel sticks his head out enough to glare at Serin. His eyes, also very distinctive, are a dark shade of blue.

"What he means to say is that we're very good friends despite the fact that I tend to do stupid shit. He's just trying to be all fancy about it."

It's hard for me to accept Daniel's words as fact. He and Serin are almost total opposites. Serin is thoughtful and speaks carefully, if at all, while Daniel tends to blurt out whatever is on the tip of his tongue. But then I think about it some more, and it occurs to me that opposites can often balance one another out. Maybe Daniel tries to help Serin loosen up a bit, and Serin keeps Daniel from getting himself in trouble. Usually.

"We go back a ways," Serin adds. "Our fathers worked together."

"So you've known each other since you were..."