Nobody was there.
Someone cleared their throat, a tiny, high-pitched throat-clear. There, next to my foot, was a mouse standing on its hind legs. “Are you the one they call Lady Courtney?” he asked.
A scream tore out of my throat. Instinctively, I ducked behind the door, using it as a shield as I gaped at thetiny talking mouse.
Unfazed, the tiny talking mouse extended a hand. “Greetings. I’m—”
“Nope.” I slammed the door.
Was it a bit mean to slam the door on a small woodland creature? Perhaps, but I wasn’t keen on the thought of enduring the annoying antics of a no doubt snarky, no doubt cringey, no doubt ridiculously over-the-top animal companion. God forbid he broke into song.
Plus, I didn’t want the bubonic plague.
Before I could do anything else, another knock came at the door. This time, it was a servant telling me I was expected atthe training grounds. I’d have to wait a little longer to interview the princess. In the meantime, I could only hope the city guards found Winston soon.
After dressing in puffy brown pants, a loose cotton shirt, and a hobbit vest, I ate a quick breakfast in the kitchen before the servant led me down to a central courtyard.
Bryce and another guy stood waiting. Bryce looked like a low-budget Jareth the Goblin King wannabe in a thin white shirt and leather breeches, and the other guy looked like an overeager camp counselor. He was youngish and blondish and shortish.
“Greetings!” The camp counselor smiled a pearly white smile, which was impressive considering dental hygiene couldn’t be great here. He was practically vibrating with a level of joy I considered obscene, given the early hour. “I have been instructed to help you refine your swordsmanship skills in preparation for the tournament! Which of you noble warriors wish to start us off?”
Bryce stared at the guy like he was trying to figure out if this was real life.
A few townspeople grew curious and walked over. Their expectant eyes reminded me of Thanksgiving. That moment after all the cousins flaunted their successes, and it was my turn to impress, proud familial eyes glowing brighter with each of my achievements even as my exhaustion grew heavier.
I remembered how dim the eyes of my family were when they didn’t look at me through the rose-colored lens of my accomplishments. Who did I think I was, volunteering to save the world when I couldn’t even keep a meaningless marketing job?
“Well?” Castle Camp Counselor asked, bouncing on his toes. “I am sure you’re both naturally adept warriors, seeing as all Chosen Ones effortlessly slay legions of monsters with little to no training.” His smile widened as his excitement grew. “Nevertheless, I daresay there are always ways to improve!”
“Before we begin, I’m going to need you to take it down about ninety-eight percent,” I said.
“Pardon me?” Castle Camp Counselor asked.
I sighed. “You’re up here.” I raised a hand above my head. “And I’m going to need you about here.” I bent until my palm grazed the dirt.
“Ah! Indeed!” Castle Camp Counselor ambled over and lay on the ground at my feet.
It took me half a beat to recover. “Look at that, Bryce. Most men know to bow before me.”
“Have you ever had a dream where you go to bed, and then you wake up still in the dream?” Bryce asked, swaying a bit, a dazed haze in his eyes. “That’s impossible, right?”
Did Bryce think we were in a dream? Suddenly, his unexplained confidence made sense, as did the comfort he displayed last night when he… Oh my god. Why was Brycecomfortablewith crawling into my bed in his dreams? And why was I okay with him crawling into my bed when I knew it wasn’t a dream?
“You’re definitely in a dream, Bryce,” I said, and his shoulders sagged with relief. I’d considered telling him the truth, but I was too curious to see more of this Bryce, the Bryce that was only free to be his true self in the deepest, safest corners of his mind.
“When one’s whole life is a dream,” Castle Camp Counselor was saying from where he still lay on the ground, “you live in paradise whether sleeping or awake.”
This dude loved his job way too much.
“Do people usually worship me in your dreams, Bryce?” I nodded down at the counselor.
“Please. The poor bastard is under the illusion you could be the Chosen One.” Bryce walked over and held out a hand for Castle Camp Counselor. “Arise, good citizen.” His voice took on a booming cheesy quality. “For a good leader will raise you up, not put you down. It is I, your Chosen One. You can tell it is me by my flowing red hair.”
Castle Camp Counselor rose, a look of reverence on his face as he grasped Bryce’s hand.
“Red hair proves nothing,” I said.
“Sure it does,” said Bryce. “All Chosen Ones have flaming auburn hair and piercing eyes.”
