“I’m not the one you’re looking for,” he said.
He waved a hand, irritated and bored. His legs draped over the arm of a chair. A glass of wine sat on the table beside him. “I’m sorry to disappoint you.”
The knight lowered his sword until its tip rested on the floor. “You must be… They said.”
“I know,” he said. “It’s the hair, right? Well,” and he hopped to his feet, “these things happen. Would you like a glass of lemonade before you go?”
The knight did not know how to respond, so he shrugged. Before he knew how, he was back outside the fortress. He swore he heard laughter behind him.