The Princess and The Reluctant Knight

Episode 35

Princess Brittany's entrance into the dungeon resembled a swan landing in a pigsty. Her gown, a bold splash of crimson, defied the drabness, and her eyes, embers of determination, scanned the cell until they landed on Sir Alvin.

He rose, a rusty clang of chains underscoring his surprise. "Brittany? By all the stars, what brings you to this forsaken place?"

Her smile was a sunrise in the murk. "Love, foolish knight. Love and a dash of royal impunity."

Heathcliff, lounging in the corner, could not stifle a snort. "So that is why you are in here, my boy."

Brittany's gaze snapped to him, a falcon spotting its prey. "And you are the puppeteer pulling the strings, are you not? How did you control the dragon to abduct me while you played games to seize the throne?"

Heathcliff's expression was a mask of feigned innocence. "Control a dragon?" he asked, then chuckled. "My dear princess, you give me too much credit."

"But not enough cunning," she retorted, her voice a whip crack in the stillness.

The man's eyes closed, his chest rising in a theatrical breath. Brittany watched, her heart an anxious drumroll, as Heathcliff's eyes darted side-to-side behind his eyelids.

Outside, a chaotic roar erupted. A clamor of voices. The clatter of armor.

The guards were shouting, their cries laced with panic.

Brittany's resolve crumbled. She turned on her heel, her gown swirling in a red maelstrom, and fled the dungeon, the unsettled dust a testament to her passage.

Left in the wake of her departure, Alvin turned to Heathcliff, his voice a low growl. "What have you done?"

Heathcliff's eyes fluttered open. A smirk played on his lips. "Merely a demonstration, young bard."

The chains binding Alvin rattled as he took an aggressive step forward. "Demonstration? You have endangered her!"

"She is a princess," Heathcliff said, his tone light as if discussing the weather. "Danger is her constant suitor."

But Alvin's worry was a dark cloud blotting out Heathcliff's flippancy. "Reveal your secrets, sorcerer. What binds you to the dragon?"

Heathcliff's chuckle echoed in the chamber, mingling with the distant tumult. "Patience, Sir Alvin. The night is young, and secrets are the currency of the wise. We do not spend them in haste."

Alvin could only watch the shadows dance and wonder at the cost of the secrets still veiled in the dark.

***

Brittany's gowns fluttered around her legs as she raced from the dungeon's gaping entrance, the castle's passageways melding into a dizzying streak of flickering torches. Her breath came in ragged gasps, echoing off the stone walls that loomed on either side of her.

The dim glow of the torches cast dancing shadows that seemed to reach for her, adding to the pounding fear in her chest. Her footsteps thundered through the hall, a frantic rhythm against the cold, hard floor as she navigated the labyrinth of the ancient castle, her heart racing as fast as her feet.

As her urgent escape propelled her into the open expanse of the outer courtyard, the tumultuous sounds that fueled her haste escalated into an earth-shaking roar.

The heavens themselves seemed to be set ablaze as columns of fire surged upwards, licking the dark canvas of the night.

Her eyes widened, taking in the scene as a dragon, colossal and wrathful beyond the wildest imaginings of fable-weavers, was ravaging the castle's venerable fortifications with unrestrained fury.