When Adelia stared at him, he couldn’t help but purse his lips inwards, trying his hardest to keep the smile from his face. His eyes lit up with glee. He was having quite the time being a pretty, little, princess. He gave her a quick wink before he cleared his throat and tucked his hands behind his back. It seemed she was going the full route of knight so he assumed he should at least try and play the princess role.

When she said that they were to go on a tour of the village, his face contorted into a grimace. Oh no. He had to go in public looking like this? He looked down at his dress before looking up at her, a look of doubt on his face. She was pulling his leg right? Surely they weren’t supposed to go outside! However, as she teased him and the smirk crossed her face, he let out a low laugh before hacking up his dress and getting ready to walk past her.

“Your majesty!” One of the maids said in absolute disgust and he turned around to look at them. He saw the look of horror on their faces and slowly lowered his dress, an inch at a time until the look of horror finally faded from their faces, the hem of his gown now planted firmly back at the length it was before he hiked it up. He sighed before turning towards Adelia.

“Let’s just go!” He hooked his arm into hers and pulled her along, unwilling to linger any longer with those particular maids in waiting.

“You know,” he said as he leaned in to whisper in her ear, much like he had at the mixer. “I have- no idea what I’m doing.” Guards and servants bowed to them as they made their way through the halls, some wishing them a good morning as they went about their business. Eliot felt like he had to acknowledge each of them and so his head recreated that of a bobblehead, constantly giving a quick nod with each person as they went by. Eventually he just turned a distraught eye to Adelia, silently pleading for her to move faster so they could get out of the castle. Who knew there would be so many damn servants and guards! His neck was starting to hurt!

As they exited out of the castle and into the bright sunlight, Eliot took a moment to look around. People were everywhere! There were horses and guards, servants, and tradesman. There seemed to be some kind of makeshift shopping center set up in the courtyard of the castle and people buzzed around like a swarm of busy bees. Eliot stared at the commotion with a glint in his eyes. Was this what it was like in real medieval times? The movies didn’t show this side of the people. It was always just inside the castle or small glimpses of the villages but this, this was almost as busy as a big city.

He stepped into the hustle and bustle, a large grin planted on his face. This was turning out to be fun.

Adelia had seen a lot in her life. Five siblings, endless sleepless nights, a high school cafeteria food fight that probably counted as a federal offense, but this? This took the cake. No, it baked it, frosted it, and served it on a silver tray while wearing lace gloves.

Adelia had to bite her tongue, physically bite it, just to keep from bursting out laughing right there. The way Eliot froze, caught like a cat with its paw in the fish bowl, then slowly lowered the hem back down like it was radioactive. It was a miracle she stayed upright. And then he was by her side again, arm hooked tightly in hers, dragging her down the corridor in a flurry of silks and mild panic. Her posture straightened instinctively at the contact, the knight facade falling into place like a shield. But then he leaned in, soft voice curling at her ear, familiar despite the dreamscape. A short, dry breath escaped her lips. “Yes, Your Majesty. I can tell,” she murmured back, keeping her tone dutiful, though the glint in her eye betrayed her.

This is one of those waffles dreams, she thought dryly. Of course it is. The moment I said “Barbie Fairytopia” out loud, my brain decided to punish me.

She kept pace easily beside him, her armor clinking softly with every step, the weight more ceremonial than cumbersome. As they passed through the halls, she watched Eliot’s head bob like a man possessed, acknowledging every servant, guard, and stray dog they passed. By the time they made it to the main gates, his smile had started to twist into a thin line of help me. Adelia merely raised a brow in amusement, her stride steady and unaffected. “Perhaps we’ll get you one of those little parasols next,” she said under her breath to him. “For neck support.”

Then, the courtyard opened up and even she had to pause for a moment. It was beautiful. Chaotic, colorful, and loud. Tents had been pitched, with linens blowing gently in the breeze. Fruit stalls sat beside smithies, embroidered gowns flapped beside racks of iron tools. Children wove through legs like darting minnows, and the smell of roasting meat clung to the summer air. A bard strummed on a lute near the well, singing something in a language her waking self probably wouldn’t recognize.

She let go of Eliot’s arm once they stepped onto the cobblestones. She didn’t ask just gently slipped free, stepping ahead of him and surveying the space with a soldier’s eye. The habit was instinctive, even here. She scanned exits, noted the rhythm of the crowd, mentally clocked anything that looked out of place.

A knight’s duty.

A flicker of motion caught her attention—two small children darting through the crowd, one with a stolen apple in hand, the other laughing with wild freedom. The merchant gave a good-natured shout but made no move to chase them. Adelia’s shoulders eased. This wasn’t a dangerous village. Not yet, anyway. But she couldn’t shake the pull in her chest. Not just from the dream, but from him. Back in the waking world, Eliot had felt like a rush of static, brash, charming, all whirlwind and caffeine. Here, in this quiet corner of dream logic, he felt..different. Not false, just softened. Like seeing someone in a different light, and realizing they cast a longer shadow than you’d guessed.

Adelia adjusted her grip on her sword and called back over her shoulder with a wry smile, “Stay close, Princess. If anyone tries to kidnap you, I might not feel like ransoming you back.” She didn’t wait for his reply. Instead, she strode forward into the crowd, head high, boots ringing against the stone and let the dream carry her wherever it wanted.

Eliot let out a very fake laugh as she told him they could get him a parasol. He shook his head then, stepped up to the entrance as two guards pushed the heavy, wooden door open for them.

As he stepped up to Adelia, staying close by her side, he couldn’t help but wave at the children as they ran by. A few waved back, most too busy playing to realize who it was that was strolling through their midst now. As she told him that he needed to stay close else he might get kidnapped, he laughed lightly.

“Oh I’m sure I could pester them enough to have them bring me back.” He let a smirk raise the edge of his lips as he peered over at her with a sideways glance. As they went along, people bowed to him. He gave them a smile and a casual wave. He didn’t really care much for the bowing but something inside him guided his gestures. Something whispered to him the next move to make, to smile and wave, to greet the people and let them see that their prince- or rather princess, was one of them, even if he didn’t feel like one of them.

A little girl ran up to the couple, her hands behind her back and swaying nervously on her feet. “Princess Eliot,” she said as she stared up at the two of them. Eliot smiled before squatting down on his hunches to look at her at her level. “I picked this for you! I hope you like it!” From behind her back, she presented a simple little flower of white petals and yellow pollen. Eliot delicately took the tiny flower from the girl, flashing her a dazzling smile.

“Oh thank you! I’ll cherish it forever.” The girl beamed as she hurried off to tell her mother that the princess took her flower and liked it so much, she was going to cherish it. He watched her go before tucking the flower into his braids. Before he could stand to his full height again, a rather large man stepped up in front of him. Eliot peered up at the man, a frown on his face. He knew this tactic. It was a gesture that insecure men took when they saw an opportunity to be above someone, even for a moment. As Eliot slowly stood to his full height again, practically having to lean back so his face wouldn’t grind along the man’s junk to do so, he let out a deep sigh.

“Princess,” the man said as he took a slight bow, forcing Eliot to step back from the large man else possibly get headbutted in the process. Did this man understand personal space or was he just this obnoxious?

“Yes?” Eliot said, his voice dry and unenthused.

“My name is Lord Jeffery Darwin, of the Darwin lineage. I heard tales of a fine young princess who had yet to take a hand in marriage. I came to see for myself and imagine my surprise when I found the tales to be not only true but understated. You are as beautiful as a young flower at the beginning of spring.” Eliot’s frown on his face only seemed to grow deeper as the man went on and on. It was as if Shakespear and Tolkin had a kid and that kid turned out to be a twat. He wanted to interrupt the man and tell him that he wasn’t interested in the slightest but etiquette, that he didn’t know was trained into him, kept his lips sealed shut. He only watched the man, his face growing emotionless as the fool carried on.

When he finally stopped talking, Eliot peered over at Adelia. He had a lot of nasty things to say to the man but he decided he really didn’t want to make that big of a show.

“I thank you for the compliments.” He said dryly, wanting to move around the man and continue their parade through the village.

Adelia had remained just behind Eliot during the interaction with the little girl, her armor-clad hands clasped lightly in front of her as she watched the exchange. It was.. sweet. Unexpectedly so. The kind of thing that tugged on something deep in her chest, something tender and aching. She didn’t know if it was the innocence of the child or the softness in Eliot’s expression as he tucked the flower into his braid, but for a brief moment, the world quieted. She could almost forget it was a dream.

Then came the buffoon.

Lord Jeffery Darwin—if that was his real name—announced himself like a warhorn to the temple, all booming voice and inflated ego, practically dripping entitlement. Adelia’s posture stiffened the moment she caught sight of him approaching, her eyes narrowing subtly as she stepped instinctively closer to Eliot’s side. The man was huge, broad as a doorway and just as dense by the look of him. The kind of noble that thought his wealth made him charming, and his lineage a free pass to touch what didn’t belong to him.
She let him speak. Because she had to. Because Eliot hadn't dismissed him yet.

But gods, it took effort not to curl her lip at the performance. The audacity of this man. That arrogant tilt of the chin. That puffed-up chest. The way he loomed as if that would make him more desirable. When Eliot looked over at her, she caught the silent plea in his eyes and that was it. That was all she needed.

She stepped forward with calm precision, positioning herself just slightly between the two men. Not overt or hostile. Just... there.

Her voice was low, polite, but honed like the edge of a blade. “My lord Darwin,” she said with a courteous incline of her head, “I thank you for your gracious words to Her Majesty. However, the princess is spoken for. The royal line is to be kept pure, just as she is. I'm sure you understand why the King and Queen haven't reached out to your house.” Adelia’s smile was the kind they carved into statues: polite, cold, and unmoving. It took all of her patience to not thrust her sheathed sword through him. This is just a dream..Why are you getting so heated about this?

When Adelia stepped up between Eliot, he felt that tension in his chest release with just a low exhale of breath. He was so thankful for her at that very moment. Even if he wanted to say rude things to the man, call him a disgusting pig and send him on his way, something kept his lips sealed tight. It was incredibly frustrating, to say the least.

Eliot couldn’t help but try and hide the smirk that was quickly developing on his face. Each time he felt the smile creep back onto his lips, he shut it down which resulted in his cheek twitching time and time again. He raised a hand to his mouth for a moment before he stepped forward to lace his arm around Adelia’s. He could see the tension in her shoulders and though she was being polite, he was afraid she just might end up punching the fool.

“Your proposal is very sweet but as Lady Adelia has stated, my parents are sure to have plans already set for me. If you’ll excuse us, we have a lot of other people to go greet. Have a wonderful day, Lord Darvin.” Eliot carefully pulled Adelia away from the man.

When they were far enough that the man couldn’t possibly hear them, Eliot let out a laugh. “Can you believe that guy?” He gave a shake of his head before he returned back to waving to the citizens as they made their way. As they continued their walk, more people approached the pair, most being simple sellers hoping Eliot would take and wear their items for others to see. Before long, Eliot’s hands were full and he was passing items off to Adelia as well. He thanked many of the patrons, wishing them a wonderful day.

“Remind me next time we do this to bring something with me to carry all this stuff. Or more people. More people would be a better route I think.” If they had more people, they could usher away the sellers before they got to Eliot to give him their items.

Adelia didn’t speak for a moment, eyes scanning the crowd even as her hand gripped the items Eliot had passed off to her, the weight a welcome distraction to the simmering heat that still lingered in her chest. “That man was practically salivating,” she muttered, more to herself than to him, her words clipped as she adjusted the small bundle in her arms. “I don’t know whether I should pity or punch him.”

Her tone was tart, but not angry just..sharp. Frustrated. Which was, in and of itself, ridiculous. Why should she care what some puffed-up noble said? Eliot could handle himself. He was witty, clever, endlessly capable of defusing attention with a smile or a dry remark. And yet the moment that oversized idiot had stepped into his space, her blood had prickled hot beneath her skin. Maybe it was the audacity. Maybe it was that the man had dared to speak about Eliot like he was a thing to be plucked. Like Adelia herself wasn’t right there.

She didn’t realize her grip had tightened around a delicate woven bracelet someone had gifted Eliot until the little silver bell attached to it gave a pitiful crunch. “..Oops,” she cringed, holding it up. “Sorry..I don't know what's gotten over me. I think that idiot rubbed off on me.”

She glanced sidelong at him, hoping to lighten the strange tension building between them, but Eliot looked so pleased, so genuinely full of life, that it stole her breath for a moment. He was smiling, cheeks flushed from the attention, his arms full of trinkets and bright things like he was born to be adored. And the worst part? He looked good. Too good.

Adelia averted her gaze quickly. “We’ll bring a page next time,” she said, voice returning to something brisk. “Or three. A whole entourage. We’ll parade through the square like we’re twice as important.”

She moved to step around a particularly wide merchant cart, lifting the edge of her cloak slightly to avoid catching it. As she did, she tossed another glance over her shoulder at Eliot, narrowing her eyes just enough to feign suspicion. “But if another Lord tries to swoon at your feet, I reserve the right to joust him on the spot. Dress or no dress.”

And with that, she strode ahead, her chin lifted high and pace just a touch faster as though daring him to catch up.

Eliot let out a low laugh at her frustration. He understood but man, was wanting to punch the man a reasonable reaction? He couldn’t help but feel rather flattered by it, however. He could feel a little flutter in his chest at her words. He tried to suppress the smile on his face but he was never very good at it. He eyed her, the smirk peeking out in dimples. He wanted to pick at her, to make a sarcastic comment but he kept it to himself. Especially as she turned to him and apologized. He waved a hand. “Don’t apologize. I think it’s flattering you’re so up in arms about it.” As she demanded to joust the next lord to approach them, he let out a loud laugh. “Alright! Alright. It’s yours. The next lord to approach me if yours.” He watched her huff and strode off with a smirk before he shook his head and followed along behind her, hustling a little to catch up.

As they continued onward, Eliot was quickly finding his hands full all over again even though he had given Adelia a large chunk of the items. As an older woman came up to him to give him a hair pin but he had no way of holding it, he gave her a soft, sad smile before saying, “Sorry.” The woman frowned before walking away and Eliot turned towards his knight in shining armor. Wait? What? No Adelia. He turned to Adelia. That was weird. When had his thought of her shifted so dramatically? He stared at the woman for a moment, trying to think of when that shift occurred. Eventually he gave up and just shook his head lightly.

“I think maybe it’s time for us to go back before they decide to give me a wheelbarrow or something to carry everything.” He said with a laugh as he turned back towards the castle. He tried to situate the items in his arms but he had too much stuff, so he gave up half way through. “Yeah, definitely time to go back.”

He never knew that royalty was essentially used as walking billboards for merchants and sellers. No wonder they were always shown walking with a large entourage at all times. He just figured it was for their safety but thinking about lugging all these items back to the castle, he wished he would have brought more than Adelia with them. He looked at the long path back and gave a deep sigh. Might as well just start. The sooner they start, the sooner it’s over.

Adelia had only meant to play the part of a lady knight. Keep close, offer protection, look the part of the dutiful knight escorting their royal charge and that had been the original plan. But..She hadn’t expected to care for Eliot. At least, not like this. Like they had known each other for years and somehow feelings were threatening to bubble. She had only known him for a short few hours! But watching Eliot struggle under the mountain of merchant gifts, watching him sheepishly apologize to the older woman with no free hand for her offering, something deep in her foreign and familiar all at once twinged at her heartstrings.

Maybe it was the role she was meant to play. Maybe it was just easier to fall into it than resist it now. She fell into step beside him without needing to think about it. Once, she’d walked beside him to maintain the illusion of protection. To keep appearances. But now it felt like muscle memory. It felt natural.

The path back to the castle stretched before them, winding like a ribbon of sunlight through the bustling market. Eliot’s laughter still lingered in the air, warm and genuine as he adjusted the bundle in his arms for the third or fourth time. She could hear the murmur of the crowd beginning to fade behind them, replaced by the soft rustle of leaves and the distant clatter of hooves on stone.

Adelia walked just half a step ahead of him, her gaze flitting over the edges of roofs and treetops. Ever the watchful knight—though more out of habit now than obligation. Her arms ached from the load, but she didn’t complain. This body was stronger than hers ever was. It carried the weight easily. It was a strange thing, how natural this all felt now. The weight of armor that no longer felt foreign. The rhythm of walking beside him, always matching his step. The way his voice had started to settle in her head like a tune she’d always known. “I hope I remember a little bit of this when I wake up,” she said suddenly, the words tumbling out before she could catch them.

Adelia laughed, brushing a lock of windblown hair behind her ear as if it were nothing. “Telling you I saw a Princess Eliot in my dream is going to make you laugh, I just know it.” She glanced away quickly, busying herself with adjusting the leather strap of the parcel slung over her shoulder. “Ah..Never mind. Ignore me,” she said with a breath of a laugh. “That sun’s baking my brain. I’m clearly hallucinating from too much charm and not enough water.” But honestly? She didn’t want to forget. Not the market, not the laughter, especially not the way his arm had hooked around hers when that noble had gotten too close. Was there a way to commit an entire dream to memory?

Their steps naturally fell into sync. He could hear her right beside him, even if he didn’t have a clear view of her, just barely ahead to keep him protected and safe. She was always so diligent, so steady, a tether to keep his dreams grounded. He could always rely on her. His knight in shining armor.

Eliot could feel when the ground turned to the pathed tile of the castle courtyard. No longer did he feel the soft give of the dirt and mud from the square but the hard strength of stone beneath his feet. He felt a flush of relief as the crowds began to fall away into the distance. Soon he could relieve his tired arms from the heavy burden he carried all the way back.

When Adelia spoke up again, finally, it was something he had not expected to hear. ”I hope I remember…when I wake up.” Eliot paused midstride. That was- odd. That was odd right? Someone in his dream just talked about waking up. He had thought maybe he misheard her. There was no way that dream Adelia, Lady Adelia was talking to him like that. It had to be a misunderstanding. There was just no way. Then she said how she expected him to laugh when he found out she saw him as a princess and the items clattered to the ground from his arms.

“What?” he asked as he whirled on her. He stepped over the items he dropped, pulling his skirt up to do so. “What did you just say?” This couldn’t be right. It had to have been his mind playing some kind of annoying trick on him in his dreams. This couldn’t be the real Adelia. How could she be in his dream with him? It made no sense.

Adelia blinked at him, forcing her features into something neutral and steady, but her mind raced too quickly to pin down a convincing excuse. She wasn’t supposed to say things like that. Not as her.

For half a heartbeat, she thought of laughing it off, teasing him, twisting it into some jest about sleepwalking or his own dreams. But the way he was staring at her as if he could peel back her armor and see the girl beneath—it made her chest tighten. "You misheard me,” she said at last and too quickly, the words tumbling with a stiffness that betrayed her. She bent to scoop up one of his fallen bundles, grateful to busy her hands with something, anything. “You’re overtired, Princess. Been listening to merchants haggle for hours. It’s enough to drive anyone half-mad.”

Her voice tried for cool, practiced calm, but her pulse thudded hot against her throat. Her fingers tightened around the parcel she had lifted, knuckles whitening beneath the leather of her gloves. The weight was insignificant compared to the pressure of his eyes on her. She didn’t even have to look up to feel it, the way he bore down on her with that sharp, questioning gaze. "We should get your things inside and prepare you for dinner."