Sunlight poured across Eleonora’s bedroom like a golden blanket; warm, cheerful, and absolutely perfect for igniting the violent and exuberant chain reaction that always happened when Eleonora woke up.

  Her eyes fluttered open and barely a heartbeat later; she shattered whatever silence the morning still had.

  “Today is like totally the day, Isadora!!” Eleonora squealed, sitting straight up with such force that the pillow mountain surrounding the girl completely collapsed as Eleonora shot up like a volcanic eruption.

  Several of her pillows were even yeeted off the bed with enough force to be considered siege projectiles or at least poke a few eyes out. Eleonora then burst out of the entangling sheets which completely failed to keep the 16 year girl bound.

  “Today is like the day!” Elenora repeated that phrase like a mantra a few more times and then squealed again, because of course she did.

  “It’s the day I become, like, a real knight! Then” her thoughts skidded sideways, corrected course, and kept going at full speed “well like… I became like, one, no like, two days ago!

  Oh my gosh, like, Sir Edward was so like hot!" Then her thoughts changed again faster than a diving falcon as she continued.

  " But today I actually leave to, y’know, take up my knightly duties and stuff! By the stars and heavens, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, I like can’t believe it!” Another squeal.

  Slightly higher pitched.

  Across the room, her maid Isadora; a somewhat scary looking woman who acted more like an automaton than real person most of the time, to such a degree that the rest of the duke's staff called her the golem of the Willowsvale; having already opened the rooms curtains, Isadora now stood in a strategically chosen part of the room, waiting patiently for her charge to wake up.

  And just like an automaton she stood completely unflappable, despite the explosion of unadulterated teenage enthusiasm that had gone off like a mages siege fireball just feet from her.

  Isadora herself was a tall woman with expressions carved from marble, her long black hair pulled together into a simple ponytail with no braiding or decoration outside of a black ribbon.

  Her athletic physique, which had been honed while she was a member of the duke's house guard, was hidden beneath her crisp and well maintained servants uniform. Most of the duke’s garrison and staff, despite being mildly terrified of Isadora, pitied her deeply.

  After all, Eleonora had a somewhat negative reputation throughout the manors garrison and staff, who felt the exuberant girl was a bit too much like chocolate cake.

  Wonderful in super tiny portions; delightful some would even say... However, trying to consume the whole thing at once could be quite grating and induce bleeding of the ears and loss of intelligence; to the point that you’d probably regret every life choice that led you there and not wish the experience on even your worst enemy.

  Yet Isadora genuinely adored her chaotic young charge, being mostly immune and some would also say blind to her charges nature.

  Bucket talk around the manor even claimed that, years ago, Isadora had said; with an actual smile; to one of Eleonora’s exasperated tutors when he had asked how Isadora could deal with Eleonora all day without becoming smitten with her cups.

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  To which she had replied somewhat menacingly to the overweight tutor, "I would never trade Lady Eleonora for any other ward in the world".

  The same tale also said that moments later, when the tutor had finally become exasperated with Eleonora's behavior; he had harshly scolded the then seven-year-old Eleonora to the point of she was in tears and caused the young girl to run away to her room.

  The tutor had during this scolding cited Eleonora's excitable nature and difficulty grasping what the tutor said, " was a simple lesson and application of arithmetic which even the dumbest of goblins could understand".

  Isadora had then calmly stepped forward as soon as Eleonora was out of sight and punched the man square in the jaw with the skill of a trained pugilist. Some of the version of the tale even said she broke the man's jaw and that the tutor was now a lot skinnier; on account of the fact he still couldn't eat right to this very day.

  Of course that was bucket talk, so it was most likely, only partially true. Isadora bowed in a stiff golem like manner as she addressed her charge.

  “Yes, my lady. A most momentous day,” she said in her usual flat tone, as she began the long task of getting her scatterbrained ward ready for the day. Isadora had already been awake for four hours that morning; having woken a little before the sun.

  During that time she had completed her ten lap run on the castle battlements and completed her daily sparring practice, which had involved making three new recruits to the duke's house guard regret their life choices.

  Then she'd cleaned up and organized Eleonora’s gear and packed her own bags; making sure to hide the cute little teddy bear known as Sir Bearington, because although Eleonora insisted she didn’t need Sir Bearington anymore, Isadora knew Eleonora would definitely need the teddy bear later.

  Eleonora began bouncing on her toes, as she got out of bed, still mid-squeal.

  “I like can’t wait for my first quest! There’ll be, like... um... real monsters! And maybe like... um...real townsfolk who need me! And real… um… like, whatever knights do between, like, all that!” She then gasped dramatically. “Do you think I’ll, like, get to fight a dragon, like, one day?”

  Eleonora asked, practically jumping up and down as the thought of herself fighting a dragon raced through her head, making her even more giddy and excitable. “Unlikely,” Isadora replied, her tone perfectly deadpan as she guided Eleonora toward the dressing screen with a gentle, but inescapable hand.

  “Dragons typically reside far from populated areas. And mornings.”

  As Isadora said that an observer might have caught the faintest, ever so microscopic twitch of amusement on Isadora's face as her wards enthusiasm infected her like a highly contagious plague.

  Eleonora laughed gleefully at that response before continuing to talk with the speed of a galloping horse. “Oh! Right.” She then paused for the briefest of seconds before a new inspiration struck her fancy.

  “Do dragons like... uh sleep in?” Eleonora exuberantly asked. “Please lift your arms, my lady,” Isadora instructed, already pulling the night shift off of her fidgeting and undulating ward. “And I am certain they do, my lady", Isadora said, already preparing for the inevitable next question.

  Eleonora obeyed… for about three seconds. Then her brain chased after another thought and she nearly turned around mid-undressing, flinging one sleeve in entirely the wrong direction as Isadora desperately tried to remove Eleonora's night shift.

  However, as Isadora began putting Eleonora into that day's outfit, Isadora managed to find a rhythm in the chaos that was Eleonora and managed to flow around her ward with a swordsman's grace, adjusting each new item of clothing with the silent, efficient precision of someone practicing with a weapon.

  And Eleonora was certainly a weapon. Albeit one that was often wrapped in pink and was quite sparkly and bubbly with the random and odd loud squeals of joy, and which occasionally might hit the wrong target by accident but always meant well.

  “And like OH MY GOSH Isadora, what if my like, first quest is something super dramatic, like rescuing a princess or, like, stopping a bandit king, or like fighting an evil wizard who lives in a tower and has, like, dramatic curtains or like” Eleonora rambled, words bubbling nonstop for the next thirty straight minutes as Isadora was thrust into a desperate sparing action to clothe her ward and prepare Eleonora's hair.