Every young girl wished of meeting the man of her dreams ride up to her on his trusted steed. This handsome stranger’s hair would flow and his muscular arms would pull at the reigns , bringing the horse to a full stop before her, while she look at him, starry eyed.
This was nothing like that.
For one thing, this man was no stranger. It was Louis, regular at the tavern. The Village idiot as he was so graciously called by the townsfolk. Lavina had never seem him sober while working, and he was consistently making a fool of himself in a pathetic attempt to impress the other patrons at the tavern. But right now, there seemed to be a different air about him.
For one thing, he was no speaking in his usual drunken slur. Lavina pondered for a moment. She was confused. What was the village idiot doing on a horse, riding to the castle, all while completely sober sounding?
“I am requesting an audience with the King of Vutalia. But you good sir,” she said, stepping in front of the horse, glaring at Louis “I might ask what business you have at the castle as well. Are you not normally at the tavern at this hour?”