"Hi, Princess!" Jann bows. "Sir Jann of Raxwell. Here to rescue you. Is your dragon about or should we sneak?"

"In the mountains on non-princess-related knight business," shrugs Jann, "heard you were, as you say, captive of said dread dragon, thought I'd drop by. I am at a total loss on etiquette slash safety procedures on a dragon who is home but feeling lazy."

"No, I'm doing this on my way. I suppose I could camp out until your dragon is feeling more energetic? Make it sporting? Or just come back when I'm leaving the Mountains again if you're still here."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I just assumed- your knightly business wouldn't be interrupted by a princess in tow?"

"It's not particularly time-sensitive, I'd take you home first, of course. Unless you really want to see the Caves of Fire and Night."

"I've seen them, actually," Emmalina admits. "Morath's taken me through a few times. The darkness was unnerving, the first time."

"I've heard that it does that, yeah."

"...what would you do if I didn't want to go home?" she asks abruptly.

"What, if you want to stay here? I'm not going to kidnap you, I'm a knight, not a dragon. Bit peculiar but not my business."

"I just-" she sighs. "You're right, I know. It's peculiar. And I don't know if I can stay here, not forever. I'm not exactly Queen Cimorene. But I can't go home either, so." She shrugs. "No refuge camp for stray princesses where you're from?" she jokes weakly.

"I mean, if you want to get married that's a whole 'nother thing but that isn't an invariable package deal with the rescuing part and I for one would need to think about that, not that you don't seem very nice," says Jann. "...Queen Cimorene didn't stay with her dragon forever, she got married and queened. How refugee-ish are we talking here? If I bring you home Raxwell's a pretty nice place to live but it doesn't have, ah, established public services for stray princesses, really."

"I don't know, like, a restaurateur who I can put in a word for you with," says Jann, scratching the back of his neck. "I'm guessing the duchess'd probably take enough of a shine to you to help you along some but I haven't got a speck of detail, this has never happened before."

"I'm not in a hurry. Dad's not getting any more turned to stone."

"...oh," Emmalina murmurs. "I'm so sorry."

"Happened before I was born, don't worry about it."

"...he'd be in the cave with the well, right?" she asks, blinking at him. "That's not that far... do you have a map?"

"He's at home, I need to bring the water back. I do have a map."

"I can just... take you there? If you want. I don't want to delay you."

"Really? That's very nice of you! But what about your dragon, hadn't I better wait for him to be fightable and then fight him, there's a procedure for making off with a princess while the dragon isn't home but you said he's home."

"Mmm... grab your stuff, if he doesn't wake up we'll treat it like he nipped out," says Jann, nodding decisively.

"Oh, aren't you just the prettiest girl?" Emmalina says delightedly as she walks up to say hello to the roan. "Yes, hello, it's nice to meet you too."

"Her name's Morganite!" says Jann, untying the horse. "I can walk while you ride, if you like? I don't think I want her carrying two in rocky territory like this."

Emmalina giggles as Morganite lips at her hair, then extracts herself and sobers. "I'm not sure you can even bring her in the Caves?" she says as she sizes up Morganite. "I don't know how she'd take the darkness, or the magic caverns, or anything. And the rocks will only get worse."

"Yeah, but it's a ways from here to the entrance, isn't it? I'd rather find somewhere nearish the caves to park her."

Emmalina nods. "There's a closer entrance but I don't know the password and there's always dragons around." She looks at Morganite's gear and shrugs helplessly. "Thank you for the offer, that's very nice of you. Whatever's faster, maybe? I can't imagine I walk faster than you but without a side saddle I'm not sure riding's any better."

"We can both walk, give her a break." He takes hold of her reins. "Lead the way, princess."

"Nice place. Ruled by a duke and duchess because it's technically half a kingdom - other half is currently called Ferdinandia. Crown broke in half when they split, whole long story there, everyone wants them back together but it's a bit tough going."

Emmalina frowns thoughtfully. "I think I've heard something about a broken crown. There was an adoption and a marriage involved, right?"

"Yup. Standard-issue princess ran away from Ferdinand-winner-of-now-Ferdinandia, adopted one married him, crown took exception. Conveniently, the current heir of Raxwell and current duke of Ferdinandia are adorably in love. Inconveniently, both men; unclear if they'll satisfy the crown."

"That does sound cute. I guess there aren't spells to check that sort of thing..."

"Not really. If they get married and that doesn't solve the problem they might have to have kids. They're planning to consult those three princesses of the Enchanted Forest."

Emmalina laughs, but it comes out rather pained. "My parents had conniptions when they heard that story."

"Huh? Why? I thought it was cute."

"Me too. But it didn't fit with how they thought the world should work, I suppose."

"It is rather nontraditional."

"Well, since making deals with dragons is apparently traditional, I don't see the appeal." Emmalina realizes she's getting close to ranting and takes a deep breath. "...sorry."

"You were a contract abduction? Those... well, they happen, but it's not actually customary."

Emmalina shrugs and looks away uncomfortably. "Well. They've at least happened before. Which was good enough, I suppose."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, but thank you." She smiles at him. "You rescued me, so it's rather the opposite of your fault, actually."

"It was a sneaker rescue, so I won't award myself full marks, but thank you."

"Fine. I deduct 5 points for sneaking and award 10 for not being sent by my parents."

Jann laughs. "Thank you, Princess, that's very generous."

"I do my best."

"If I were still in school I'd want it in writing so I could bring it back for extra credit, but I think my relatives will take my bare word on the subject."

"What was school like?"

"It was great! Learned all your standard knight stuff, made friends - only it was a pity my cousin couldn't go, he's under this curse that would make it very dangerous for him to even try. Wicked fairy."

"That's awful. What does he do instead? Can he learn at home?"

"Not knight stuff. Well, he can ride a horse. But he's very good at chess and he'll make a good duke-or-king-whatever-depending-on-crown-opinions."

"Oh, one of the dukes is your cousin? I must have missed that. No wonder you think the relationship is cute."

"Oh, yeah, my dad was the duke's brother, so my cousin'll be duke next."

"Well, tell him good luck with the crown thing? It sounds like they have a shot, anyway."

"I'll pass it on."

"How's life after school? Is there, I don't know, a knightly letter that goes out with quests on it? I don't know much about knighting."

"I bodyguard m'cousin occasionally - Milo, his name's Milo - and I'm qualified to rescue princesses from dragons while I'm in the neighborhood and if something else in Raxwell or possibly Ferdinandia came up I'd be the go-to."

"I do appreciate the rescue, truly." The trail narrows and Emmalina focuses on picking her way rather more carefully before resuming the conversation. "Do you enjoy it, then? Being the go-to?"

"It's all right. I didn't have anything else I wanted to do and I like knight stuff."

That's not the most enthusiastic endorsement Emmalina's ever heard, but it's a fair step above her opinions on princessing, so she lets it pass. She considers asking if he's excited to meet his father, but drops the idea instantly; she doesn't want to talk about her father, it's hardly fair to interrogate him on his. Instead, she looks up at the sun, and winces. "We're not making the best of time... I'm sorry, I know it's really rather my fault."

"It's all right. I might get to the entrance faster without you but then I'd only fumble around for a week looking for the water, mm?"

"I'm sure you wouldn't take nearly that long. I mean... you said you had a map, didn't you?"

"It's not a very good map. And I don't see very well in the dark."

"Well, my advice for the dark patches is just to stay put, so I think it'll work out somehow."

"Okay. I can stay put, that is one of my knightly skills."

"I'm very impressed! What about sitting down, that one too?"

"I can sit! On, or off, of horses!"

"Well, now I'm picturing you standing on horseback. I'm sure Morganite appreciates your restraint." She moves closer to the horse and strokes her mane. "Don't you, pretty girl?"

"I guess she agrees."

"Who's they?" wonders Jann, tying Morganite to the stump and detaching some bags from her nonperson.

"Morath said the dragons control the Caves of Fire and Night. I mean, I'm sure he's probably biased, but... who wants to argue with a dragon?"

"In most cases it is best avoided." Jann puts a bag of oats within munching distance for Morganite and shoulders what-all else he seems to expect to want. "Shall we?"

Jann accompanies her well within easy bodyguarding distance.

"We just sort of park, yeah?"

"You don't have to, really. Morath knew his way through all right, but I'm not Morath. So yes, unfortunately."

"There's worse things than standing around."

"I could be Morath."

"That would be such a thing!"

Emmalina chuckles, then sobers. "He was actually nice enough, as dragons went," she says contemplatively. "Some of the younger dragons were nasty." She scowls invisibly in the dark at the memories. She liked that dress. It was not improved by the claw marks.

"Yeah? Which ones were worst, I can pass it along that those ones should be prioritized when they've got princesses."

Emmalina immediately names two, then adds one more after some thought. "There was another one, but I can't imagine it will matter. It wasn't even old enough to pick a gender yet."

"Noted. Princesses will presumably thank you."

"Lead the way! I appreciate this escort enormously, you know."

Emmalina blushes. "You're welcome. I mean, I appreciated the rescue? And you've been nothing but nice and I know the way, it seemed the least I could do."

"I wouldn't go in here without a quest," Jann says. "It's not trivial."

"I had 'do not annoy the dragon into eating you.' It was a kind of quest? If you squint?"

"Why did he want to bring you into the caves anyway?"

"He didn't at first. Then one of the younger dragons tried to poach me. It's not done, she got into a lot of trouble, but after that Morath decided it was easier to just bring me along if he was going to be gone more than a day or two. The caves aren't meant to keep dragons out, just knights."

"I'd think they'd be a little cramped in places for a bigger dragon."

"Well, at least they're fair-minded." Jann clanks to a halt. "I had definitely heard that dragons and wizards did not mix well."

Emmalina grins, not that Jann can see. "They're allergic, can you believe? Of all the things."

"That I didn't know! To wizards, huh. I suppose they have a well-established ability to sniff out all kinds of people. Not that they're infallible."

"To their staffs, mostly. Morath said the staffs steal their magic and it makes them sneeze." She shudders. "I'm glad no wizards ever stopped by. Dragons sneeze fire, and I am flammable."

"Oh, yikes, that would be really scary. I know how to tell where a dragon's going to breathe fire on purpose, but if they're sneezing? Yikes."

"I'm not sure they do sneeze without a wizard around," Emmalina says uncertainly. "So- don't fight one with the Wizard Staff of Hayfever and Pepper?"

"Okay! I'll keep that in mind."

Emmalina can't help laughing. "You have one in your cellars I talked you out of using?"

"No, but you never know what you'll run across, knighting around."

Well, she certainly can't argue with that. "What sorts of things have you run across, 'knighting around'?" she asks curiously.

"Haven't done that much knighting around yet. But speaking of what's in the cellars there's a magic carpet that turns people into rabbits if they touch it."

"You didn't!"

"It wasn't my fault! I was a little kid and my cousin wanted me to grab it because he was too short, and we figured it had to be a flying carpet, you know, harmless, so I grabbed it, and next thing you know - rabbit."

When she's stopped laughing helplessly, Emmalina gasps, "That sounds adorable. How did they unrabbit you? Unless they didn't and you've got a really convincing knight disguise."

"It's so convincing. You wouldn't believe how long it takes to get all the prosthetics on. Nah, you de-rabbit by going out under the new moon, I was fine."

"That... sounds pretty harmless, as magical misadventures go. The other princesses were always full of horror stories- "the ring turned her into a tree!" "the slippers made her dance every night!" "the makeup jar had a genie in it!", you probably know the type."

"Yeah, I was lucky. As penance m'cousin turned himself into a rabbit later. He was very fluffy."

This time the light comes back before Emmalina is finished laughing. "Your cousin sounds like an adventure," she tells him. "Ready?"

"Yep! To both."

Emmalina scrambles to the ground. Her skirts catch on something, she thinks the hem is torn, but she's already torn it in at least three places walking through the caves; one more rip is hardly a concern compared to giant cave spider. She gulps down a whimper and scrunches herself against the wall as much as she can, doing her best to avoid cutting her hands on the rocks on the floor as she moves.

Jann... lets go of his sword, since it can probably prevent the spider from being dangerous all by itself, and hugs her back. "Hey, it's okay. I can handle a spider."

That earns him a weak giggle. "You can. I get to be shaky for a bit." She shivers. "I'm glad you're good at this."

Pat pat. "Do you want, like, a knife, I have a knife."

"...are you likely to need it? I mean. I appreciate the thought, it's very sweet of you. But between me being slightly nervous and you missing a knife...? Second one's worse."

"If I lose my sword." The sword is still sticking out of the spider, which is no longer twitching. "Or if something goes after us in close quarters. But not usually."

"That's-" Emmalina looks at the dead spider, swallows, and looks away. "Yes. Please."

He hands her a little sheathed dagger.

Stepping away from Jann, she takes the weapon with a small smile and a quiet "Thank you." She's somewhat awkward with it, but eventually figures out a way to wear the sheath without it digging into her side. Then she looks at the sword, the spider, and at Jann, before taking a deep breath and asking, "So. I suppose- now we continue?"

Emmalina points resignedly towards one of the tunnels. Suspiciously large spiderwebs are visible hanging from one of the walls. "I don't know if there will be more," she admits unhappily. "They always avoided Morath."

"I'd avoid Morath too, if I was a highly flammable spider. Maybe they'll have the sense to avoid me too. If they don't, I'll stab them, don't worry."

Chatting, now there's a good distraction. "You're a highly flammable knight and you didn't actually avoid Morath," Emmalina points out, amused. "Or I suppose you did by accident, but it wasn't the plan."

"I'm not that flammable. I'm only modestly flammable."

"I suppose," Emmalina starts, then blushes and looks down. "I shouldn't tease- you rescued me. I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's all right. I'm not offended. And you don't have to walk on eggshells around me because I happened to not actually fight a dragon on your behalf, really."

"Well. You seemed to want to, and I was the one to suggest we skip it."

"One of these days I'll rescue somebody from a dragon and have to actually fight the dragon over it."

"Am I just the latest in a string of dragon rescues, then?" Emmalina asked with a faint smile.

"Did I not tell you about the time m'cousin got carried off? He got carried off. Apparently he smells like a princess to things, we're not sure why. I had to go fetch him because it would've been the height of awkwardness if somebody else had done."

...that is absolutely not what Emmalina was expecting. She wants to respond but she can't help herself. She starts laughing helplessly. "He. He smells like a princess? That's- what?!"

"He does! He smells like a princess and the dragon was old and blind and deaf! This wasn't even the first time, a giant got confused too, but Milo was able to talk his way out of that one."

"Your lives sound wonderfully absurd," Emmalina tells him rather wistfully.

"I'm not sure he found it wonderful, but I find it a funny story."

"It sounds like it ended well. So now you can laugh as much as you like."

"And he did enjoy organizing the dragon's library!"

Emmalina blinks at that. "...was it a particularly interesting library?" she inquires. "I organized Morath's treasure sometimes, but half the appeal was seeing history's poor fashion decisions. And I'm guessing- hoping- your cousin was not wearing the books."

"I don't think so. He's the bookish type, though."

Sound of drawn sword! "Ow." Squelch. Clank. Clank. Squelch. "Say something, which direction are you in -"

"Here, I'm here, it was-" she thinks frantically- "ahead of me, a little to the left?"

"I've touched it since then, just wanted to make sure I hadn't got turned around, don't want to take my sword out of it till it stops twitching -" Clang. "And it's easier to pin down with the ground helping."

Emmalina nods jerkily, remembers he can't see her, and manages to gulp out, "Okay, so it's- good. That's good."

"Yeah, I got it, we're fine," he assures her.

"Shit," says Jann, and he resumes spider-stabbing. "Are you okay, did one bite y-" Scrape of fang on armor. "How many of these things are th-" Stab. Slash.

"It's-" she feels spider hairs on her arm and stabs for them, "-trying but-" it steps on her leg and she even manages to connect the dagger this time, "-hasn't gotten-" she can feel it move towards her face, swallows another shriek (mostly) and slashes wildly in front of her, "-just yet?"

Jann kills the second spider. "Can you, I don't know, kick it in my direction, something like -" The light comes back. "Nevermind." He spears it in the abdomen and removes it from Emmalina's person.

He gets another hug. A shaky, rather bloody hug, admittedly, but still a hug.

Pat pat pat. "Let's get as far from here as we can before it goes dark again."

Emmalina nods, pulls herself together as best she can, and starts off down the tunnel again. She has to pick her way over the dead spiders to get through the tunnel; the one that attacked her gets a vengeful stomp on one of its legs as she goes.

"Thank you very much," says Jann, and he heads straight for the beat-up tin dipper on the wall, takes it, dips some water into a canteen he brought along for the purpose, and then says, "On the way out we'll have help with the spiders, at least," and starts dipping more water onto all the boulders.

As soon as the water drips on them, the boulders turn back into men. Most are wearing armor, though there's the usual mix of fortune seekers, middle sons and even what looks like a magic user or two. They cluster around Jann, all of them are effusive in their thanks. Emmalina presses back against the cave wall, feeling out of place and uncomfortable.

Jann introduces her to them as "my guide, Princess Emmalina of Griffinmarsh" when he's gotten all the rocks and put the dipper back. Several of the ex-boulders collect some water of their own to take home, this time all managing to remember to use that one and not the gold and jewel-encrusted one, and look at her to lead the way.

He stays near the front of the group and helps with herding them, but she's the one who actually knows the way; he's only been through the once and there was a lot of darkness in the relevant time period. He makes sure that not too many people are trying to cross that rope bridge at the same time, though, which means he's the last person across. It doesn't break. He shoulders to the front again when they're all on the far side.

Jann, too, is concerned about the missing spiders. He sticks close to Emmalina. "Everybody look alive," he calls to the various knights and princes. "Could be something bitey here, we had trouble with giant spiders on our way in."

"Somebody didn't pass his etiquette classes in knight school," mutters Jann under his breath. Walking a bit faster now, slightly between Emmalina and the ex-boulders.

Emmalina glances backwards. "No armor, no sword," she says softly. One of her Princessly Skills is the ability to be able to speak quietly without looking like she's talking. "He's probably a forester out to make his fortune, someone's middle son maybe?" She looks back at Jann. She doesn't smile, but the stress lines around her mouth loosen a little. "The knights I know are perfectly polite."

"Hey sweetheart, do you-" the man at the back starts, before someone near him clocks him on the head and angrily hisses something about ingratitude. Emmalina rolls her eyes and lets herself smile, just a bit. "I should probably be upset by the violence," she tells Jann, sounding completely unbothered.

"As long as they don't start trying to kill each other it's all just a slightly informal tourney. For, in this case, your honor."

Well, that gets a laugh out of her. "That would be a first," she says.

"Really? Can't scarcely credit it."

In retrospect, that might have revealed a bit more than she meant to. Too late now. "There's not a lot of knights in Griffinmarsh," she says. "I was supposed to meet more, at the tourney, but- well. Morath."

"Very bad timing on his part."

Emmalina shrugs slightly. "The tourney didn't actually exist," she tells him. "So I suppose my alternative was more embroidery, not socializing. But it might have been nice," she adds, trying not to sound wistful. "The marshes made it hard- we didn't travel much."

"...The tourney didn't exist?"

"Dragons don't usually abduct princesses in the vicinity of a tourneyful of knights," she says with a smile she doesn't feel. "But it meant I was in an easily spotted carriage."

"...Oh, one of those. Setup arrangements. I don't quite get the mentality there. I mean, it seems to set some people up all right, but couldn't they just be... introduced in some politer way, I don't get it."

Emmalina looks down at her hands, which seem to be clenching her skirts rather more tightly than usual. "I've. Never had the chance to ask." She knows she probably sounds a little curt, but it's that or start ranting about her parents, and if there was ever a place to not do that, leading a score of knights out of the Caves of Fire and Knight would be a strong contender.

"Those were the Caves. I'm not sure why they get talked up so much as a tourist destination. Give me a nice trail ride in the woods any day."

"But just think how disappointed the locals will be."

"And dragons are famous for inviting tourists to come in greater numbers."

"You're not a tourist, I mean - eh, it was a terrible joke, not worth saving, I'm sorry."

"It's all right. You didn't do it on purpose. Sorry to be- I know that's not what you meant."

"Can't scare me. Takes a few days, not that long. You can go ahead and ride the horse. I know a river we can go past, rinse off the cave gunk."

"Oh, we can bathe?" Emmalina sighs happily. "Yes please. If I never wear this dress again it will be too soon."

"I... don't have a spare dress for you."

"And if you did, I would have questions," she laughs. "But unless the horse has walked off, I have a couple in my pack."

"Oh, okay, then we're good. Horse, horse. Hello Morganite," he says when they find her. She has not walked off. Jann helps Emmalina into the saddle.

On the plus side, her dress is already ripped beyond repair. On the minus side, this dress is still not designed for this saddle, and she's feeling rather self conscious about her legs. And she's still blushing from having to be lifted into the saddle; she's not used to casual contact, and there's no dead spiders to distract her. She focuses on Morganite's mane very intently and strokes the horse's neck. "Hello Morganite," she murmurs to the horse. "Thank you for the ride."

Emmalina cleans herself off, selects the plainer of her two dresses (riding astride wasn't easy on her first dress, and she'd like one of her outfits to come out of this intact) and gets herself tidied up. "All yours," she tells Jann. "So much better."

He emerges. "Excellent. Behind the tree with you," he says, waving her in its direction.

Behind the tree is actually rather peaceful. Emmalina amuses herself by starting on a daisy chain.

Eventually Jann calls, "I'm decent!"

Emmalina reappears, smiling. "I already knew that." She didn't have time to make a long enough chain for an actual necklace, so she's wearing the flowers as a slightly-too-large crown instead.

"Aw, lookit you, that's pretty. Are we making jokes about my moral character now?"

Emmalina blushes. "Why thank you." Ever the good princess, she sweeps a curtsy. Of course, since her curtsies presuppose that she is wearing an actual crown, rather than a daisy chain, this unbalances the chain forwards off her head. It winds up draped half on one ear, half on her nose, and she fixes it with a resigned grin. "You've saved me how many times now? I think I'm allowed."

"It's true. Being rescued entitles you to a one-year subscription to making jokes about my moral character. Of course you read all the fine print."

"Do I get extra years for the spiders?"

"Of course! One per." He helps her back onto Morganite.

"Walking pace, maybe five days. Maybe better if I borrow another horse for the leg through that little bit of Linderwall."

"If you do that, maybe a sidesaddle?" Emmalina suggests tentatively. "I know I'm slowing us down, and I'm sorry. It's strange riding astride."

"It'll depend what they have, but I can ask, sure."

"I suppose horses are more common than side saddles."

"Just a bit. And whether I can borrow one mostly depends on whether there's somewhere I can leave it where it'll wind up returned, and whoever returns it is less likely to ride sidesaddle."

"No roaming bands of side saddle equestrians in Raxwell?"

"Well, stranger things have happened, but I haven't heard of that one in particular."

"Well, now I'm curious."

"Oh, did I tell you about the time m'cousin turned me into a rabbit?"

"Magic carpets and moonlight? I'm starting to think it made an impression."

"Ah, I've used up all my best stories, I should start keeping closer track. Writing them down or something. Did I tell you how my best friend got into knight school early?"

If he did, she's forgotten, so she just shakes her head. "Do tell?"

"Usually they take you when you're fifteen. But there's an exception, you can get in at any age if you beat an instructor in a duel. Glynn decided that was too pedestrian and beat two of them."

"...how?"

"He's some kind of martial genius! Top of his class. Very sharp, knows all his stuff. Even kept on with archery, half of us drop that. And he can beat Milo at chess, occasionally, no mean feat."

"I'll take your word for it, I don't know hardly anything about fighting. But he sounds impressive. How long have you been friends?"

"Since he started! There's a mentorship thing and he was assigned to be my junior."

"Oh, so for a while then. Do you still see him, now that you've finished school?"

"Sure. He comes and hangs around and plays chess with Milo."

"That would be- wonderful. Thank you." She looks around, eyes wide. "It's been so long since I've been in a castle. It's almost strange."

"I'm told it's a bit confusing to anyone who doesn't know their way around, but I'll leave notes where notes need to be about you being my guest and anybody will give you directions," says Jann. "Tomorrow might be a little hectic what with, ah, my father, just to warn you."

"Of course," Emmalina assures him. "Can't have our cave adventure going to waste, after all."

"Yes. But I'm not waking anybody up about it tonight. He's not getting any more made of stone." Here is a guest room. "Unless Milo has someone over... no, here we are, good. Does this look all right, do you need anything?"

Emmalina suppresses a mildly hysterical giggle. This is already so much, she can't picture possibly needing anything. But saying so would imply she didn't appreciate what Jann had done, surely, so she just shakes her head. "This is more than enough. Thank you." She pauses, unsure, and adds simply, "Good luck tomorrow."

"Thanks," he says, preoccupied. "I mean, I'm sure it'll be fine. Sleep well."

The mattress is emotionless but very cozy. Perhaps they will only be bestest friends.

Emmalina will just have to overcome her disappointment by burrowing into the mattress as deeply as she can manage. She'll come back out tomorrow. Eventually. Maybe.

Well, nobody is going to wake her, but if she should wake of her own accord and open the door there will be breakfast waiting on a tray.

If she looks out the window, she might spot Jann escorting a giggling ladyfriend to a side door of the castle.

When she sees Jann with his... friend, she flushes bright red and turns her back on the window immediately. None of her business none of her business she can be disappointed (...she's disappointed?) but none of her business. She locates a servant to point her to a nice spot in the gardens (far, far away from that side door) and amuses herself exploring instead.

The time outside is calming; she spends a fair bit of her time lying on her back in the grass with her eyes closed just... doing nothing. No cooking, no watercolors, no cleaning, no dancing. No one expecting her or expecting things of her or waiting on lunch or upset that her dress is grass stained. (...it's going to be so grass stained.) She makes daisy chains and names clouds and often finds herself grinning for no reason at all.

She's rather lost track of time, but her stomach eventually reminds her that time still exists. She brushes off what leaves she can and heads back inside. She doesn't think it's a meal time yet, but there's probably something available in the kitchens, and she's competent enough in a kitchen after Morath that she can probably meaningfully offer to help as a thank you.

Jann is in the kitchen blowing on a hot bun. "Hullo."

Emmalina smiles and bobs a nice-to-see-you curtsy out of reflex. "Good..." she stops. "Well, I suppose it must be afternoon, but I, um. Kinda lost track. Your gardens are lovely, by the way."

"Aren't they? We pay the head gardener a lot, so she doesn't run off."

"Is that a common problem?" Emmalina wonders. "We're fine at home, but uh... there's not many places to run off from Griffinmarsh."

She eyes the hot buns consideringly. Choices, choices.

"She threatens to start a magical succulent nursery or grow a hedge maze to hire out. Help yourself, by the by, that's what they're for."

"There isn't much demand for those back home," Emmalina admits. "My parents are a bit stodgy about magic... or most things, really."

She does in fact take a bun, but does not immediately take a bite. "Thank you," she says with a smile, "but I was, uh, more worried about the temperature." She nods at his. "Yours looked hot."

"Yeah, maybe give it a minute. Stodgy about magic?"

"Not a lot of folks want to live in a marsh," Emmalina shrugs. "Everything was just... traditional. Old fashioned." She rolls her eyes. "Morath gave me such grief for thinking he'd eat me."

"I'd be offended too if I were him! Not your fault though."

"I definitely got a traditional education. I'm not, um, sure I'd say it was useful, though? What with the annoying dragons, and all."

"I think dragons probably vary in how traditional they are, but princesses weren't ever food, I don't think."

"And I'm going to tell myself they knew that, or it makes calling Morath on me much less comfortable," she says grumpily around a mouthful of bun.

"...dunno if it helps but there are traditional ways to do princess assassinations and that's not one."

She giggles at that, somewhat hysterically. "'Princess assassinations', what a picture... if you put it like that, it's okay. They wouldn't. They mean well." She rolls her eyes. "They always mean well." The next laugh sounds less manic. "End results may vary, from dragon abductions to really, spectacularly ugly dresses and anything between, but they always legitimately think it helps!"

"Well... you're pretty well clear of 'em now."

She smiles at him. "I think you get most of the credit there, so, thank you for that."

"Anytime."

Well, that face is downright adorable.

(Emmalina squashes that thought firmly.)

"You may have saved me from Morath, but really, the greater feat was saving the world from the lemon yellow lace concoctions my mother insists on buying me."

"Is it the yellow or the lace?"

"Oh, certainly both," she laughs, "but the yellow is definitely the worse idea of the two. I think I've got orange somewhere, too. Half the time I think she must be colorblind."

"So you're saying I shouldn't wear my yellow sweater, not even on crisp fall days."

"Vitally important. A matter of utmost importance to the health and security of Raxwell," she agrees solemnly.

"Well, that leaves me the green and blue one with the fringe, then. Is fringe allowed?"

"If carefully measured."

"It's a couple inches, the fringe."

"Permissible," she allows grandly.

"Oh good."

Emmalina finishes off the remains of her bun with, in her opinion, entirely the correct amount of relish. She learned the basics of cooking with Morath, but only just enough to get by; proper, castle-quality food is still a luxury on par with her future spouse, the guest room mattress. She sighs happily, but there's still something...

"...is it weird that I sort of miss Morath?" she asks thoughtfully.

"I think Milo writes letters to Roxim, sometimes. - did I tell you about Milo and Roxim, I forget."

"Roxim doesn't ring any bells... Milo's your princess cousin?"

"Prince! But he smells like a princess. And Roxim is the dragon who can't see too well or hear too well and made it all the way home with Milo dangling from his claws before he was corrected on the matter, and couldn't find his way back to put Milo where he'd found him, so I went and rescued him."

Emmalina laughs. "Yes, you told me about his princess... confusion, I think I just didn't catch Roxim's name. They write letters? Really?"

"I think so! You'd have to check with him to be sure, I don't spy on his correspondence."

"Pretending he writes the letters isn't that different from actually sending them!" She considers for a second. "I could, I suppose. He was nice enough. It was more... being there was a routine, you know?"

"Never having been personally kidnapped by a dragon, no, not especially..."

"But you and your cousin could make a matching set!"

"I haven't the figure."

(Emmalina is not checking out his figure nope not even a little this is entirely his fault.)

"A great loss for dragonkind," she says, then promptly changes the subject. "So, how's your day so far?"

"Things with my dad are still weird but hopefully that will... smooth out, or something."

"Oh, well... I'm glad it worked, at least?" She hesitates. "Um. Weird like... do you want to talk about it?"

"Huh, do I? Maybe. So like - he was turned to stone before I was even born. Mom was pregnant, and he'd been sent off to live with this family in this village since he was a baby since there was a prophecy that turned out to be about him turning to stone and nobody wanted that, but they didn't know that, so they tracked down the fact that he was Uncle Ainar's brother somehow and showed up, and then -" he waves his hand. "So I'd never met him at all."

"Ohh." Emmalina tries to imagine never having met her father until she was an adult. It won't quite go through. What's a neutral question, here, she doesn't want to push him about this if he doesn't want to talk. "Does that mean the prophecy's fulfilled now?"

"Yes, all sewn up. He is not expected to relapse."

Was that a joke or an actual possibility? ...probably a joke, he's all non-stone now. She smiles. "That's good. Does he know what he's doing next?"

"I assume he'll be... around, doing... something? He wasn't a knight and he's a little old to go to school for it, I'm not sure what else a collateral relative is supposed to do."

"Administrative... something...? I know ruling is work, just not... what kind."

"Me either! Milo had better not get eaten by anything that thinks princesses smell tasty, because if he does I'm in for it. Maybe I could make Reko do everything."

Names, names, names... Reko? She hasn't heard that one. Has she? Please let this not be the stupidest of questions. But context clues exist, she supposes. "Uh... is Reko the other duke?"

"Right. Other half of Raxwell's his."

"Does he normally do everything? Or are you hoping because you just... don't want to be a duke?" She sounds a little bemused by the last.

"He runs his own half and does a good job of it too. I really, really don't want to be a duke, I'd hate it."

"Huh," Emmalina says thoughtfully. Then she looks apologetic. "Sorry, I don't mean you should, I just, uh. I think that would mystify my parents." She smiles a bit crookedly. "Probably a good thing." And then, less crookedly, "And besides, you make an awfully good knight already."

"Thanks! Knighting suits me."

"What's your next, uh, knightly activity?" She blinks. "What are those even called, if they're not a full quest?"

"Errands, sometimes. Uh, I don't have anything down for the next week, I padded my time estimate for this one and then some to allow - dad time. After that I do some work with the palace guards and sometimes escort people places."

What does that hesitation mean? Is she supposed to be asking about his dad or dropping it? Small talk is so hard when it's not with, by and large, the same castle full of people you've known your whole life. "Well, I don't have anything down for the next... uh, ever. If you wind up with free time and want-" she almost says company, pictures the giggling face from earlier, and amends to "-a friendly face."

"I appreciate that. You're neat."

Emmalina... should probably not be as floored by this as she is, she decides. People get compliments all the time, right? Her tutors used to be impressed with her sometimes! Morath was pleased with her princessing! And 'neat', what does 'neat' even mean, really? But still. Eeeee.

Conversational lessons to the rescue. "Thank you! You're pretty great yourself." She does not add on the bit about how rescuing her clearly proves this, because she's been getting the suspicion she's maybe already thanked him to death for it. She can't quite resist adding, "It's not like I have pressing time commitments; not much call for watercolor or embroidery like there is for knights."

"You'd be surprised how many embroidered things we have in the house, and we must get them somewhere and I don't think my aunt makes them."

"Does she not like embroidery, then?" Princesses are expected to know how, but maybe they don't have to, once they're married, if they don't want...? That sounds rather nice.

"She wasn't a princess to begin with, that might be it."

"Huh. Probably." Emmalina thinks about it. "You know, I think I'm jealous?"

"Of her not being a princess?"

"Yes? No? I don't know. Yes, I think. It's... It does seem like at least it would come with less of a... a constant list of things your parents expect, maybe."

"Non-princesses' parents can have expectations too, but maybe less - heavy ones? Since there's less tradition and stuff?"

"You know, if I never hear my mother say the word 'tradition' again, I think I will be perfectly happy."

"That's probably achievable!"

She smiles faintly. "I hope so." Having finished her second bun, and guessing this is all she can (should) manage before the next proper meal, Emmalina reluctantly dusts herself off. "I should probably be less grass stained before dinner, but it was nice catching up with you. Thank you for letting me... um, ramble, I suppose." She looks at him hesitantly. "You'll tell me if I can do anything? Please?"

"Yeah. 'Course. I think the me and my dad thing'll get better with time though."