He should’ve known when they left him to die on the battlefield. He’d become a burden, another hungry mouth in an already struggling kingdom.
But the old knight held out hope.
He made the long, brutal journey back only to find the drawbridge up, the gates closed.
He gazed up at the walls of the intimidating fortress, mustered what strength he had and gave his former home a middle-finger salute.
The old knight had clashed with dragons, trolls, ogres – every terror the realm could conjure and defeated them all.
But in the end, he was no match for castle bureaucracy.
The Weekday One Hundred 