The Princess and The Reluctant Knight

Episode 27

Elana chuckled. "This storm may have a sense of humor, but so do we."

Jeanette smiled. "Then let us hope our mysterious spellcaster appreciates the humor in being outwitted by a pair of drenched royals."

Feeling braver because of the silliness of it all, the queen and princess got ready to face whatever mysterious thing was causing the storm. They were set to tackle the Not So Enchanted Forest's tough weather, outsmart whoever was messing with the weather like they were a god, and maybe, just maybe, write a fresh, funny story of fantasy and love.

* * *

Sir Alvin felt The Not So Enchanted Forest mocked him with its twisted branches and the chortling wind that rustled through the leaves like some hidden imp laughing at his plight. Princess Brittany, with the regal poise that defied the very storm clouds brewing above, seemed as unbothered by the turn of the weather as she was by Sir Alvin's obvious discomfort.

Alvin's armor was unusually tight around his chest, though it had nothing to do with the impending downpour.

The duel with the Vinebinder had festered, and now he nursed wounds far deeper than the surface - invisible slashes upon his pride and self-esteem, no doubt. The storm brewing in the sky paled in comparison to the doubts swirling within him.

"Would you look at that," Brittany remarked, thumbing back a rogue strand of hair that the wind had taken liberties with, "Nature itself conspires to dampen our spirits."

"We should seek shelter," Alvin suggested, glancing worriedly at the sky.

The first rebellious raindrops began their descent, heralding a deluge.

The duo made for a nearby cave, its mouth gaping like the earth's yawn. With the storm's breath hot on their necks, they ducked into the cave's embrace, the darkness within swallowing them whole.

Alvin looked around the cave quickly, with the shadows moving as if teasing him.

Brittany, either not noticing or not minding Alvin's worry, checked out the cave carefully. "This will work as a shelter from the storm."

"Should we leave Simon out in the rain?"

"No. His armor might fill with water and drown him."

Alvin pondered if this was a problem. He could not help thinking that Simon might free himself from the restraints and make another go at killing him. But Alvin was not a killer of people. Just rodents and ants. Or other pests not of the human variety.

"You are probably right." Alvin, his heart a storm to match the one outside, struggled to find the words to bridge the gap between his imagined inadequacies and the stoic figure he presented. "Your Highness, shall we make a fire to fend off the chill?"

Brittany looked at him, her eyes sharp and discerning. "A sound idea, Sir Alvin. Your prudence is as commendable as your valor."

***

In the belly of a cave that seemed to rumble with the storm's laughter, Sir Alvin, Princess Brittany, and their unwilling companion, Sir Simon, advanced past the damp, whispering walls. The cave mouth had swallowed them whole, and in its belly, they found the rhythm of raindrops accompanying their cautious steps.

"Do you hear that?" Alvin asked.

A murmur of human voices, not the cave's echo or the storm's growl, filtered through the cavern's passageways.

Brittany stopped, searching the surroundings for danger. "Ready your sword, Sir Alvin," she whispered, the storm's electric tension now alive in her gaze.