‘You trample on the legacy of my father and my people. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t take your head, thief!’
The Princess stared down at the figure of the dwarf before her. The point of her sabre was hooked under his beard, the blade held against his throat, and she could see her hand shaking ever so slightly, making the tip of the sword wobble imperceptibly. She felt groggy, as if she had woken from a deep, over-long sleep, but despite how she felt, she couldn’t afford to let her guard down. A second of lapsed concentration, and this intruder could land a killing blow if he so wished… She willed herself into focusing all of her attention on the dwarf.
He was wearing armour reminiscent of the protective gear that her own guards wore, who were rapidly making their way across the
