“Oh, dear. How is he? We came as soon as we heard.” A middle-aged woman exclaimed in worry as she approached us. She was still wearing a dusty apron with her ginger locks tied up in a messy bun.
Lying on a bed was the rude man – who I guess, was not so rude anymore – and sleeping soundly. His right shoulder and the right side of his forehead was bandaged with white linens. We were in a spare bedroom right now, one of the hundreds we have here in our castle.
I stood before him, fidgeting my fingers in fret. I would have been hurt as well if he hadn’t saved me, which made me feel a little guilty. A stallion was running towards us since one of the cables of a moving carriage broke, causing the horse to scurry towards us relentlessly.
I was able to dodge the horse but it hit a post instead
