<span style="font-family:Vidaloka">The following morning was a complete and total stroke of luck for Wesley and he would never be able to explain it even for years to come after that because it seemed oddly impossible. Sleeping next to the kitchen’s back doors, he was almost doomed to be discovered by one of them before the sun even started rising because they were bound to be out and working early on the day of such a grand tournament. Their absence wasn’t how he was lucky, though. Nope, they were there on time. Wesley’s luck came in when he actually woke up to the sound of the kitchen starting to turn on, before any of the cooks were able to step outside and before the sun had fully creeped over the horizon line. <br/>
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He had a few minutes to recollect himself and remember where he was before haunting footsteps began heading his way and then he took off running again. There was no sign at all that he had ever been there when the cooks stepped outside to take out the morning garbages or head back inside to resume preparing for the day’s festivities. <br/>
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Wesley had his own preparations to make so it was probably a good thing that he’d managed to be awake as early as he had. He found a groundsman stepping inside and managed to slip his own way into the castle. Not many were awake yet and those who were awake were servants who just thought that Wes was another servant so it wasn’t really a situation that could create any problems for him at that point. He just snuck around, managed to find himself some more suitable clothing, and then headed towards the barracks where all the knights would eventually start preparing for their tournament. <br/>
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All that was left after that was stumbling upon the right knight. <br/>
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One of them was wandering about, actually, pacing in anxiety about the festivities and performances. Wesley walked right up. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:steelblue"><b>“Uhm, excuse me… Sir?”</b></span> he interrupted the man’s steps <span class="fixed-color" style="color:steelblue"><b>“I… I’m a bit lost. Would you be able to help me?”</b></span> <br/>
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The knight shifted his attention to the newcomer, a boy who looked young, but not necessarily too young to be perusing the palace on his own. The knight couldn’t even tell that it was an act. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:darkmagenta"><b>“Lost? What were you trying to find?”</b></span> he ventured to ask. <br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:steelblue"><b>“I’m not supposed to be down here, but… I… well, I wanted to squire in the tournament, Sir. I thought maybe I could help my mom out if I was a… well… a squire. My father always wanted to be a knight, Sir.”</b></span> The way that Wesley managed to say it somehow made him endearing and Wesley could see in the eyes of the knight that it was going to work. It was going to work. <br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:darkmagenta"><b>“Well, I already have a squire, but I think I could let you squire for me for one round.”</b></span> Walking up to Wesley, the knight put an arm around his shoulders, and led him back into the barracks where they could get ready. It worked. <br/>
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Wesley was going to squire in the tournament. <br/>
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And in the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but wonder if the woman from last night would see him there.</span>