“Oh, excuse me,” she said hurriedly. Kelvin could only stare slack jawed at her face. Before him stood the most pretty girl he had ever seen. Porcelain skin and deep brown slanted eyes were framed by a luscious wave of dark hair. Her rose petal pink dress intricately patterned with lace and beads, it practically screamed money and wealth, while his own shirt and torn cloak made Kelvin feel out of place. “Are you injured?”
“Hello, miss. You don’t happen to live here, do you?” Kelvin quickly rearranged his facial features to that of a respectable gentleman. He didn’t know how he had gotten inside her house, but he didn’t want to add insult to his breaking and entering by being rude or ugly.
“This is my family’s castle, yes. Do you need to get that checked out or?” She edged to flank him, but Kelvin turned with her.
“Ah, this is just a scratch. Where am I exactly?”
The girl gestured for him to follow and walked down the hallway. The rain, drizzling now, continued to turn the magnificent gardens into a bejeweled wonderland, but the sky was still empty of rainbows. As they rounded the corner, the once dark and dim second hallway was now just like the first. In fact, the carpet felt even more plush and the wall sconces shined even brighter. “I think we had some recovery potions over in the drawing room,” she explained. “Welcome to Rosethorn Manor.”
The journey through the house was short, but as they passed open doorways the rooms were filled with colorful couches, cabinets full of fragile china, and books with gold and leather bindings. The drawing room was an array of couches in different shades of yellow, punctuated by emerald and forest greens. But while the furniture and the carpets were all perfectly shiny, the potions stacked in the corner were covered in dust and what seemed to be dried blood. Kevin accepted one from the hand of the girl cautiously, sniffing it before tipping it down his throat, just as he was pondering the particulars of how they had come to be there.
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“I beg your pardon, but who are you?”
The girl curtseyed with all the grace of a wilting flower. “I am Valeria Francesca Cordelia Del ‘la Rous de Champs.” She peeked through long lashes to smile shyly at Kelvin, “Who are you?”
“Well, my name is Kelvin. But I don’t really know much more beyond that,” he chuckled nervously. It was not like he had never introduced himself in front of the type of lady who would curtsey, it was just that he was not altogether familiar with it. “I’m sure I was not breaking in to steal anything. Or so I think. I’m more of a dungeon runner than a petty thief.” Resting his hand gently on his empty scabbard, he added, “And I’m unarmed, so I suppose I am also not here to attack you, because I never leave my sword unless I know I do not need it.”
“Wouldn’t the absence of your sword, but the presence of your scabbard suggest you did bring it? And that you actually lost it somehow?” Valeria pushed.
“Well, if I do not know how I got here, there is not much I can do to get it back.” As he said it, Kelvin recognized that he was talking to Valeria as much as he was to himself.
Valeria, for her part, only bubbled with laughter for a few seconds before speaking again. “Tomorrow my family will be hosting a ball. As you are not sure how you got here, nor where your sword is, maybe you can stay the night and join us for a dance. We can give you rooms here in the manor for the night.”
“I would very much appreciate that,” Kelvin replied.