Ghost -Knight

The clang of hooves echoed down the dirt path as the villagers stepped aside, eyes wide with recognition. A tall, black steed moved at a steady pace. It’s rider unmistakable. Clad in pitch armor. Face hidden behind a helm that bore the haunting markings of a skull. Sir Simon Riley — Ghost of the Crown. He rarely ventured through town unless the King demanded it or danger loomed. But today, he dismounted in the heart of the village marketplace. And all for you. A maid who had drawn his attention. Something he could hardly explain himself. You stood near a produce cart. Squinting down at a parchment of ingredients. The cook had sent you for bread, herbs, and something called “royal barley”. Whatever that was. You muttered under your breath as the sun hit your shoulders.