After a night of fitful sleep, he set out, mounting his charger at dawn and riding down out of the hills at a good, solid clip. He reached the castle before noon. As he approached, he spotted a figure gowned in green, walking along the outer wall. Any last vestiges of a doubt he might have harbored in his heart fled when he heard the song, the beautiful clear voice wafting down from the ramparts.

He drew his horse to a halt a short distance from the base of the high wall. The singing, too, stopped.

“My lady!” he called. “Please, my lady… I beg a moment of your time!”

“Yes?” the same beautiful voice replied, a little uncertainly.

“My lady, my name is Sir Roderick of Dunhall,” the knight said. “For thrice three years, I have been haunted by a dream, a most singular dream about a most singular lady. For all that time, her face, her voice… her beauty… has danced in my sleep and afflicted my waking hours with what was at first a most pleasant distraction. As the years went on, though, I found myself increasingly preoccupied with thoughts of my dream-damsel. I sought out a soothsayer who told me that I would find her, living in a castle of white stone on the shore of a great sea. I set off at once, sharing my tale to any who would listen. I described the castle and the face of my inamorata to any who traveled far and wide, hoping that someone would know them… and at long last, after many wrong turns and false trails, I believe I have found her. If you will only show yourself to me, so that I can confirm that you are the lady of my dreams, then we can be wed this very day and I shall be the happiest man upon this earth.”

There was no reply at first. Sir Roderick held his breath. Then, he saw movement…a glimpse of golden curls as the lady peeked down at him from the high parapet. It was just a glimpse, but it left him dizzy. Her hair was the exact shade of his dream lady’s.

“My lady?” he said.

“I think you have the wrong castle,” she said.

“I am certain that I do not!” he said. “Please, lady, allow me to look on you, so that I may know that you are the one I am destined to wed.”

“I’d rather not,” she said.

“But… if you are the one who has come to me in my dreams…”

“I do not control my own dreams, Sir Roderick,” she said, “and I am certainly not responsible for any of yours.”

“My lady, I have come so far.”

“I didn’t make you do that,” the lady said.

“But I have ridden for…”

“Is your steed magic?” she asked. “Does the mere act of riding him often change people’s minds? Or shall I marry you as an act of sympathy for his saddle sores?”

“Please, if you’ll only just show me your face…”

“What will that accomplish?” she asked.

“It will prove that what I am saying is true,” he said.

“That you’ve been dreaming of me? I believe you,” she said.

“Then… will you accept my love?”

“Don’t be ridiculous… I do not know you, nor do I long to.”

“But I have dreamed of you… this is my destiny.”

“But what?” she asked. “Am I not allowed any say in this? Do your dreams and your destiny mean that I am not allowed to have my own dreams, my own destiny? If I did appear to you in your dreams, did you ever ask me what I felt? Or why I was there? Did you ask the soothsayer if I had my own beloved, or how I would feel about being asked to marry a man I’ve never met?”

“Do you have a beloved?” Sir Roderick asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I am not interested in you.”

“My lady, if you mean to test my devotion, know that I am prepared… though I have been sorely tested already.”

“Silly knight, your devotion doesn’t interest me,” she said. “How can I make that any plainer?”

“I’m ready to fight for your honor. I will duel any man, slay any dragon, bring you any tribute… only tell me what you wish for, and I shall make it so.”

“I wish to be left alone,” the lady said. “I wish to be free of men who regard me as a trophy to be won, who think that I should be overjoyed to be a mere figurant in their dreams. I wish to have my own wishes respected, when I make them clear and particularly when they touch most strongly on myself and my own disposition.”

“I see,” Sir Roderick said. “And, so… if I were respect your wishes for now, do you think that in time you may grow to return my love?”

“In what respect will you respect me, if you only do so in exchange for what you want?”

“My lady, I do not like to mention this because I do not like to brag, but I am the heir to the throne of High Dunhall,” Sir Roderick said. “I will one day be its king, and if you marry me, you will be my queen. Does that not make a difference to you?”

“Does anything I say make a difference to you?”

“My lady, I think that perhaps you are not thinking things through.”

“I am going to count to five and then I am going to call for archers,” the lady said. “One…”

“Indeed, my lady, that’s quite enough!” Sir Roderick said, wheeling his horse around. “You’ve made yourself clear! I shall away with me, and bother you no more. There is no need to lower yourself to such base threats.”

“Apparently there was,” she called. “You would not shift yourself for any words I could conjure alone.”

“Have you nothing else to say, knowing that I have dreamt of you every night for nigh unto a decade, knowing how far I have come and knowing that I am heir to a great kingdom?”

“Yes,” she said. “Two…”

“I’m going, I’m going!”