Page 1 of Quest for her Knights
Chapter one
Elora
“Ari!” I yell out my best friend's name as I step into her bookshop, agitation soaring through me. I glance around the empty store before throwing myself down into a big beanbag chair. Tilting my head back, I yell again, louder this time, “ARI!”
“Coming!” she calls from somewhere in the back of the shop. It takes her only a few more seconds before her face pops out from behind one of the bookshelves.
“There you are! What’s wrong?” she asks, immediately sensing I’m upset. It could be that she just knows me better than anyone, or it could be the fact that I’m scowling with my arms crossed over my chest.
“Ari, you won’t believe what happened.”
“What?” She joins me, sitting gently on the beanbag across from me. She’s so much more delicate than I am, perching herself lightly on the seat while I just plopped myself down, not even caring if I flash someone in my short pink dress.
“I met with that matchmaker again today, and she fired me. Me! Can you believe it?!” I scoff, throwing my arms out for good measure.
“How can she fire you? You’re the client.” She frowns at me in confusion.
“She said, and I quote,” I clear my throat to get her snotty accent just right, “‘You, my dear, have unrealistic expectations. Until you’re ready to reduce your list of must-haves, we will have to part ways.’”
“Oh, Elora,” Aribella sighs, giving me her stupidly annoying knowing look. “You didn’t take the books, did you?” Her gaze drops to my lap, where four books are, in fact, sitting.
“What?” I ask defensively, grabbing them to show her one by one. “This one has the perfect golden retriever male lead.” I pick up the second book and point to the cover. “The guy in this one is a cinnamon roll, who can resist that?” I drop it and grab the third. “This one has a bad boy who turns good for the female lead. And this,” I say, holding up the thickest book of all four, “has the hottest daddy dom ever.”
“Elora…”
“I know what you’re gonna say! That a guy can’t be a dom and a golden retriever and a cinnamon roll, but I want them all. How am I supposed to pick?”
“Maybe you should try actually dating some guys from each of those categories and see which you prefer? It’s all fun on paper, but you might hate a dom in real life. What if he didn’t let you dress like that? What if he says it’s inappropriate?” she asks, gesturing to my outfit.
If there’s something I might love more than reading smutty romance books, it’s fashion. I make a lot of my own clothes and love wearing different styles. Today I’m wearing a light pink dress that borders on too short, paired with my white wedge sandals.
I glower at her. “If any man thinks he can tell me how to dress, he has another thing coming!”
“See! You would hate a dom!”
“I just need to find one who likes the way I dress,” I tell her, crossing my arms in annoyance.
Aribella is my best friend, and we’ve known each other ever since I stumbled into her little bookshop three years ago. Our love of romance and fantasy books made us instant friends. She has this gorgeous light pink hair that she always manages to maintain with no roots showing. I also loved how unique her style was; she always wore beautiful old-fashioned dresses that looked like something out of medieval times.
I’ve made her several dresses over the years, including the dark green one she’s wearing today. Once, I even made her a short version. It had the same styling, but the hem sat above her knees. She didn’t like it and said it didn’t match the style of that time.
But this is the modern era, and women can wear anything. So I gave it a slight alteration and added it to my own wardrobe. It gets more praise than anything else I wear, so I’m not exactly bothered that she prefers her long dresses.
The only thing we ever argue about is how she constantly tells me I should dress more modestly. I think I should be able to wear whatever I want, but she insists I’ll attract the wrong type of man if I keep dressing this way.
“I’m just worried about you, Elora. You know we don’t live in the best neighborhood. I’d be so upset if something happened to you.”
“Ari, if something happens to me, it won’t be because I wore a short skirt instead of pants. I refuse to let the fear of the unknown dictate how I dress.”
She sighs, the way she always does when we have this conversation. “I know. I just worry about you.”
“Well, don’t worry about how I dress. What you should be worried about is us both being single forever. I still think we should run a speed-dating event here.”
“Heavens, no thanks! I don’t want to talk to a bunch of random men.”
“When’s the last time you went on a date, Ari?”
“When’s the last time you went on a date, Elora?” she fires back, raising an eyebrow at me.
