The next day I didn’t have any work, and the sword fighting tournament didn’t start until two, so I had plenty of time to get ready. I’d picked an outfit to fight in that I was pretty excited about. It had a skirt that split open on the sides, and dark leggings underneath. I looked pretty fantastic in it, if I did say so myself. Doing my hair took a long time too, because I tried to do some intricate braids which sort of didn’t work, but I went with it anyway. When I was done, I looked like a battle ready warrior. I couldn’t wait.

“Greg, come here,” I said as I pulled out my phone. “I feel like we need to take a pre-tournament selfie. You know, so we never forget this moment.”

Greg gave me a dubious glance. “Though I fear to ask,” he began, “what is a ‘selfie’?”

“It’s just a picture with the two of us,” I said, walking over to him as I held out my phone.

He still didn’t look like he was buying it. “I don’t know what you’re expecting to get a picture of, Lady Jessica. I haven’t got a body.”

“I know!” I said excitedly. “Aren’t you curious to see how it will turn out? I’ve been dying to try this for a while now. Come on, it’ll be fun!”

With an irate sigh, Greg leaned closer to me and I held out the cell phone. I could see myself clearly enough in the screen, but where Greg was standing looked foggy and a little distorted. I hurried and snapped a couple of pictures, but I wasn’t actually sure if I was getting anything. My phone was acting all glitchy, and the screen kept freezing.

I lowered the cell phone and brought the screen closer to me. “Let’s see if we got anything,” I said as I started flicking through the pictures. Greg leaned in closer as well. He seemed curious in spite of himself.

“Oh my horror,” I muttered as I stared at the first picture. Even Greg leaned back with a look of disgust. I was in the picture, smiling wide, and right next to me was something out of a nightmare. It was the vague, wispy shape of a person, with eyes glowing bright. The face was white and it looked horribly disfigured. I quickly flipped through the other pictures, but none of them looked any better.

I glanced up at Greg. He seemed to be rendered speechless.

“I don’t,” he said after a moment when he found his tongue again, “I don’t look like that to you, do I?” His voice was weak.

I couldn’t help but laugh at his mortified expression. “No,” I said. “You’re very handsome Greg, don’t you worry. But when you first started haunting me, that’s pretty much what I saw.”

His eyes were wide as he stared at me. “I am so very sorry,” he said.

I laughed again. “It’s water under the bridge.” Putting away my phone, I smoothed out my dress. “We’re going to win today, right Greg?” I was starting to get a little nervous now that 2 o’clock loomed closer.

He shrugged, folding his arms across his chest. “I dinnae ken,” he replied, a little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

That was not the reassurance I was hoping for. Scrunching my eyebrows low over my eyes, I frowned at him. “I dinnae ken,” I repeated. “I’m Gréagóir. I’m always in a bad mood and I say weird stuff like ‘I dinnae ken’ because I think I’m cool and Scottish.”

Greg’s eyes got big and his smile widened in disbelief. “Are you mockin’ me, wee lass?”

I folded my arms like his and dropped my voice as low as it could go. “Are you mockin’ me, wee lass?” I echoed.

“I cannae believe it!” he said with a laugh, “the insufferable insolence I have to put up with! Have some respect for the dead!”

I grinned. “I’ll respect the dead when the dead deserve respect.” I glanced around the room and took a deep breath. “I guess there’s really nothing else for me to do now. We may as well head out.”

Crossing the room, I stepped out into the hall and locked the door behind me. As I headed toward the exit at the end of the hall, Greg walked beside me until we were out of the building. Once outside I rounded the castle and headed to where the tournament was being held. When I got close to the arena, I was surprised at how many people were lined up. I was also taken aback by the age ranges. There were like, a ton of little kids. I wasn’t going to have to fight a little kid, was I?

I soon found out that there were different age ranges. A wave of relief came over me at that. The arena had been divided into three different rings for several sword fights to take place simultaneously. With so many people, I knew it would be a long time before it was my turn to fight. The sun was hot, and waiting in line sucked, but the time went by faster than I thought it would. It was fun to watch as other people fought. A bunch of spectators crowded around the fence of the arena, cheering on their favorite competitors. I had no idea this was such a big event. As my turn approached, I got even more nervous.

When they called my name to go up next, a worker came by and helped me put on some padded armor and a helmet. Then he handed me a sword. It was heavier than the one I was used to practicing with. Hopefully it wouldn’t throw Greg off too bad.

The match in front of me came to an end and I was ushered inside the ring. My heart was pounding. Turning my head, I glanced over at Greg and nodded. He stepped toward me and I felt the icy rush. I was used to it by now.

Looking ahead, I saw my opponent. It was a girl, taller than me of course, but I could tell by the way she held her sword that she was inexperienced. As a voice called out for us to start, I didn’t even have to think as Greg moved my body. It felt natural to me now, like we were a part of each other. I could anticipate his actions and I trusted him completely. We really did make a good team.

Within minutes we’d knocked the girl completely off her feet and disarmed her. Scattered applause came from the crowd of spectators. I felt kind of bad for beating her so thoroughly so I ran over to help her up. She gave me a wide grin as she took her helmet off.

“You’re way good!” she said, patting me on the arm. “I’ll bet you do great the rest of the tournament!”

“Thank you,” I said, caught by surprise. She was absurdly nice for someone who just lost.

“When do we fight again?” asked Greg as he appeared beside me.

“Not for a while,” I muttered, hoping that no one would notice me talking to myself. “Everyone else here needs a turn first.”

His impatience was written clearly on his face. “That wasn’t difficult enough. I want a real challenge!”

I couldn’t fight a grin. “Hold your horses, we’ll get our chance.”

Returning my armor and sword, I watched the rest of the people as they dueled. Most of them weren’t any good, but it looked like they were having fun. I suppose that’s really what mattered. Soon enough, half of the contestants had been weeded out and the half that remained were organized into new pairs. My turn came much sooner now. Donning the armor once again, I got into the ring. This time my opponent was a teenage kid, probably a little younger than me.

Again, Greg and I made sure the fight was a quick one. I couldn’t believe what a rush I was getting. Sword fighting was actually really fun. And I was good at it! As I stepped out of the ring, I tried to reign in my enthusiasm. After all, it wasn’t actually me who was any good, it was Greg.

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We fought three more people after that, until the numbers dwindled to just the last two. It was me, and a greasy-haired middle-aged guy that I could tell took this whole thing way too seriously. I’d seen him fight and I was worried.

Taking a deep breath, I wiped away the sweat beading up on my forehead. It was getting hotter out here, and I’d been fighting so long. I didn’t know how much energy I had left. Stepping into the ring, I tried to block out the sound of the crowd around me. But then I saw a brightly colored someone push through the crowd until he reached the fence. It was Allan. He’d been able to make it after all. He gave me a thumbs up and smiled before Greg pulled my attention back to the fight.

Someone yelled out a countdown, and then the fight began. We both circled for a bit, judging the other, waiting for the first move. This guy was taller than me, but I was used to sparring with Allan, and that boy was like a flag pole.

My opponent made the first lunge and I blocked the blow, stepping to the left. The movement came so automatically that I wasn’t sure if it was me or Greg that moved. The man swung a second time and I blocked it again, pushing his sword away to leave him unbalanced. I then moved closer and hit his shoulder. We both took a step back as points were tallied and another countdown began.

Sword fighting was coming so naturally to me now that I hardly gave any thought to it. Before, it had felt so obvious that Greg was moving my body. Now, I honestly couldn’t tell the difference.

As we started circling a second time, I tried to ignore the sweat running down my face. It was so freaking hot out here! The padded armor I was wearing felt like a winter parka. Taking a deep breath, I lunged toward my opponent and he blocked my hit. I recovered before he could take advantage of any openings. Behind the man I saw someone else, someone watching, someone floating a foot above the ground.

It was Greg. He wasn’t possessing me.

A flood of panic washed over me and for a moment, my concentration was completely broken. Then a sharp pain in my side brought me back to my senses as my opponent struck me. Staggering back a few steps, I centered my weight as the countdown started again. I was staring at Greg, wide-eyed. I wished I could yell at him. Why wasn’t he possessing me? This was our final match! When his eyes met mine, he didn’t give me the mischievous grin I was expecting. He just nodded at me, entirely solemn.

As the countdown reached zero, I turned my attention back to the greasy-haired man in front of me. I could do this. I had to. The man lunged forward, swinging his sword at me. I blocked the attack. Moving swiftly, as if I had done this by myself a hundred times, I twisted my sword around, knocking the blade from his hands. I pressed the tip of my own blade against his chest. The crowd burst into cheers.

With a frustrated yell, the man I was fighting pushed my blade away with his hands and walked off. I staggered back a few steps in shock. I’d just won. Without Greg’s help, I’d been able to defeat my final opponent! I felt dizzy as the announcer ran over and lifted my arm high. The crowd cheered some more.

“Congratulations to Jessica Rivers!” he yelled, “this year’s sword fighting champion!” As someone else came and took my sword, the announcer handed me a small, heavy statue and a gift card. I was still too overwhelmed to really process what was going on.

At that moment I saw someone climb over the fence and come toward me as the crowd began to disperse.

“You did it!” Allan cried as he wrapped me in a tight hug. The embrace made me smile in surprise. This was the second time he’d hugged me in two days. I wished it had lasted longer, but I was so covered in sweat that short and sweet was probably better.

“I knew you could do it,” he continued, his smile bright as he stared down at me. “I saw you take down that guy twice as big as you, without Greg too!”

At the mention of Greg, I looked around. He was standing right behind me.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

He shrugged. “I knew you could do it.”

“What time is it?” I asked, turning back to Allan.

“A little after five,” he said. He elbowed my arm. “Just two more hours before the ball. Do you think you’ll be able to pull off a Cinderella, or are you planning to go as Joan of Arc?”

I looked down at myself and laughed. “As awesome as Joan of Arc is, I think I’ll see if I can get cleaned up a little.” I glanced at Allan. “However, don’t be expecting a Cinderella transformation. I’m definitely going for more of an evil queen sort of vibe.”

He tipped his jester hat to me. “I look forward to it.”

With a smile still on my lips, I turned around and started to weave my way through the crowd. I needed to hurry if I wanted to be ready in two hours.

Once I got back to the employee dorms, I showered and got started on my make-up. As an employee, I wasn’t allowed to wear much make-up, but tonight I was free from those rules. I put it on fairly heavy, making my eyes really dark. Then I went with a deep red lipstick. If I let my hair dry naturally, I knew it would end up as straight as a board, so I put some product in it and put it up in a messy bun.

Now to get dressed. Leaving the bathroom, I went to my own room and closed the door behind me. I’d left the dress spread out on my bed earlier and when I saw it, I couldn’t stop a feeling of excitement from swelling up within me. Changing out of my clothes, I pulled the dress over my head, being careful to not mess up my hair or make-up. Once it was on, I laced up the back and spun around. I felt amazing wearing this. Moving to stand in front of the mirror, I looked up. Dang. I looked amazing wearing this. The dress was mostly black, with silver accents. Around the waist was a corset and the material at the chest was bunched up, which was good, because it made me look like I actually had some curves. The skirt of the dress was a little too long, but hopefully I wouldn’t trip over it too much.

I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. “Greg,” I said aloud, “you can come back in now. I’m ready.”

“And looking as black as the Earl of Hell’s waistcoat!” Greg added, materializing before me. “You look lovely, Lady Jess.”

“I know I thanked you earlier,” I said, staring up at him, “but it was sort of hectic then, so I wanted to thank you again.”

“Don’t think of it,” Greg said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Really,” I said, stepping toward him. “Being in that tournament today was so much fun. I honestly can’t believe how much I enjoyed it.” I glanced at the floor. “But the whole time I had to tell myself that it wasn’t really me winning, until that last round. You showed me that I really could do it by myself. Thank you.”

Greg laughed. “You’d have to be a prancing English fool to spend all those hours with me and not learn anything.” He gave me a meaningful glance. “You were doing more than you knew.”

I rested my hands on my hips. “I hate to refute your belief that the English are totally worthless,” I said with a teasing smile, “but a lot of my ancestors are from England. I mean, we’re in America. A whole lot of people around here have at least a little English blood.

“Then I’m sure you’ve got a bit of Scottish as well.”

I tapped my finger against my chin as I thought. “I’m not so sure,” I muttered. “I’m English and Scandinavian, and I think one of my Great Grandmas was from Mexico, but there’s no Scottish.”

Greg laughed heartily. “Lineage aside, you’ve come a long way this summer, Lady Jessica. You began your stay here with breaking a sword, and now you can wield one with a degree of skill. With any luck, you’ll be better than me one day.”

“I should hope so,” I said. “I don’t want to end up dead in a duel!”

The humor in Greg’s face vanished. “That was a bit uncalled for,” he said as there was a knock on my door.

My heart did an excited little flop as I rushed to open the door. Allan stood on the other side, a small bouquet of flowers in his hands. Instead of wearing his usual jester costume, he was decked out in a black tunic with dark trousers and tall boots. His tunic had silver accents, just like my dress, and with his pale skin and white hair, the contrast was striking.

His eyes got wide when he saw me. “Wow,” he said, “You look—you look pretty.”

I squinted at him suspiciously. “There was some definite hesitation there Allan.” A smile stole across my lips. “Do I look too witchy? Have I finally creeped you out?”

He hid his face behind the flowers and laughed. “That’s not it at all,” he muttered. “My first thought was that you looked really hot, but I didn’t think that sounded very classy.”

His statement so surprised me that I laughed aloud. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice the blush I could feel creeping up my face.

“Anyways,” he said, sounding nervous, “take these flowers and let’s forget the past ten seconds ever happened.”

As I accepted the flowers, I could see that he was blushing. Maybe it wasn’t so bad that I was blushing too. “Thank you for these,” I said, “but I don’t have a vase or anything to put them in.”

He grinned, apparently relieved to be talking about something else. “Oh I know. I figured someone like you might enjoy live flowers for a day or two, but you’d enjoy dead flowers for a whole lot longer.”

I placed a hand over my heart. “Oh Allan! You know me so well!” I pretended to wipe away a tear. “Dead flowers are my favorite.”

He laughed and shook his head, offering me his arm. “Shall we go to dinner?”

“Yes we shall,” I said, taking his arm.