That night, one of the stable boys showed us where to sleep, handing us both cots and pillows.
“Spectacular conditions, if I do say so myself,” Daniel said, grinning at the loft.
“This loft is about to fall down,” I said, laughing.
“Just don’t say anything to King Hubert and you’ll still have a job,” the stable boy said, laying out his cot.
“I think I remember King Hubert from the Disney movie,” Daniel whispered to me, and I stifled a laugh.
“I don’t think I caught your names,” said the stable boy, turning around.
“I’m—”
“Oh, she’s Avonmora,” Daniel said. “Avonmora Thwiate Duckstein the third.”
“Oh,” said the stable boy. I started choking on air. “That’s an...interesting name.”
I stared at Daniel, still recovering from my coughing fit. “Y-yes, I’m A-Avonmora. And this here is Derwent Felix Dankworth the fifth.”
The stable boy blinked. “Oh, nice to meet you. I’m Jack.”
When he left to feed the horses for the night, Daniel and I burst into laughter.
“Avonmora?”
“Derwent?”
“What the buns were you thinking? Was Amber not common enough in the 14th Century?” I laughed.
“Not really,” he said, rubbing his eyes, which had tears of laughter. “Next time you meet anyone, your name is going to be Avonmora.”
“If you say so, Derwent,” I said, which made us fall with laughter again.
“Are you guys doing alright?” Jack asked, looking slightly concerned, when he had come back.
“Yeah, I think Avonmora’s just a little tired,” Daniel said, patting my shoulder.
Jack backed away slowly. “I think I’ll just sleep in the other loft,” he said.
Daniel and I started laughing again when he left. When I was finally in my cot, I stared up at the night sky, which was visible through the gaps of wood in the loft. The stars were scattered, twinkling down on us, all seeming to say good night.
“Good night, Derwent,” I said. When I got no response, I turned to see him fast asleep, a smile on his face.
Author Notes: Stay tuned for part 8!
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Virgin Islands, British • 17 years old