Once Upon a Faire {Excerpt}

Chapter 4

The show must go on. The show must go on. The show must go on. I repeat the words to myself as I hope they'll make me feel better. I know it was an accident, but I want the authority to kick out patrons who spill beer on us poor costumed workers. From my chest to my wrist I'm sticky and I smell like the floor of a frat house during a kegger.

The opening day crowds are massive and I try not to take it personally that Gavin still hasn't come to see me. I'm stuck at the archery range where one of the workers called in sick with a migraine. The jousting arena is clear on the other side of the faire so his chances of making it this far between bouts are slim.

I help someone dressed as a hobbit figure out how to knock an arrow before I see Cat has wandered into Sherwood Forest. She has a horde of kids following at her heels. They beg for more bubbles and Cat obliges them. With a sweep of her magic wands, she produces thousands of bubbles that fill the clearing in the woods. Kids squeal in delight and chase them through the crowds while their poor parents try to keep up.

I chuckle as Cat catches my eye. She flicks her brows up with a wink. When the patrons are distracted by the bubbles, I slip out my phone and snap a picture of her to put on my Instagram. My 350 followers are mostly amateur cosplayers who like to see how I put costumes together. Cat is usually my model for the finished product. I've been sharing bits and pieces of Cat's fairy costume for weeks. If she decides not to use it, I'll put it up on my Etsy shop to sell; I've sold a handful of both Renaissance and cosplay costumes there.

"What sort of contraption is that?" A voice echoes beside me.

I nearly jump out of my skin as I find Gavin standing beside me. He's not in full armor, just the quilted linen shirt and hose a knight would wear underneath it. His whole ensemble is a deep black and there's a long sword peace tied to the belt around his waist. Just looking at all that dark linen makes me glad the temperature isn't as bad as the forecast called for.

"Oh this," I hold my phone up for him to see. "This, good Sir, is a Venetian picture box. It allows me to capture an image and send that image into the aether where other people may look at it through their picture boxes."

"Witchcraft!" Gavin cries.

"Yes, perhaps," I say with a giggle. "I think I should stow it away before any folk catch me with it and send me to be burned at the stake."

"Maybe. Or, I think perhaps I should find my own Venetian picture box to communicate with yours," he says.

I smile as my insides go all sorts of warm and fuzzy. He's looking at me with a smile in his eyes and I really don't know how to improvise this any further when I want to ask him for his number right here and right now.

"Sir Gavin, Black Knight of the Realm," Cat calls from where she's encircled by a throng of kids. "Come meet this fine group of young princes, knights, princesses and a turtle who goes by the name of our contemporary, the artist Michelangelo."

Gavin turns up the heroic swagger as he saunters towards the group. Half of the kids look up in awe at the real live knight. Others shuffle their feet awkwardly, eyes averted, unsure of Gavin.

"Verily, this is an excellent group of young nobles you've gathered here," Gavin says as he sinks down to his haunches so he's eye level with the kids. "Do any of you know something about knights?"

Eyes widen, but it takes a few seconds for one of the girls to speak. "Knight have swords."

Gavin's face lights up. "Yes we do, and we wear really heavy armor made of metal. Does anyone know how heavy our armor is?"

A few heads shake.

"A knight's armor is over 50 pounds — that's as much as some of you." Gavin grabs the ninja turtle and throws him over his shoulder. "There. Now imagine I have to fight another knight, or possibly two, with one of you hanging on my back."