Lucas was about to give up altogether—and then start blasting random stuff until someone showed up to handle it—when he finally spotted his goal: the double doors that were identical to the ones in his own place. Sighing in relief and shaking his head at finding the obvious, Lucas dashed over and opened the doors.

In a room much like his own, Lucas discovered the manor’s ruling Knight and his Lady. The dark-haired couple was seated on nearly identical thrones on the far side of the room, holding hands across the short distance between them. Each was also holding a sword. Four guards were positioned in pairs between the entrance and the thrones, with the closest duo about forty feet away. Each was holding a halberd, and each menacingly glared at Lucas as he came through the doorway.

“I see you alone have made it,” the Knight Lucas presumed to be Rowland declared. “But today is the day you die!”

The couple actually attempted to rise at the same time, each never letting go of the other’s hand. The end result was an uncoordinated mass of limbs bumping into one another. The awkward, bumbling movements resulted in both of them almost falling down as their hips and hands tried to push each other back. If not for the guards, Lucas would have found the whole scenario downright comical. Like a routine from the golden years of television, the ruling couple fought to be the one who stood up first—which obviously meant being the one who had claimed the right to defend the other.

“It’s a man’s duty to give his life up for a woman!” Rowland declared, his beard nearly covering his wife’s face as the two wrestled. The guards didn't even so much as turn around to look.

“No, it’s a woman’s duty to make sure her man is safe and sound! Get behind me, you cute bastard!” Lady Dennings wrapped her arms around Rowland and then finally won the struggle by flinging him back to the throne, where he collapsed, holding his arm. “Oh my god!” the woman shouted when she saw that Rowland was hurt. “I didn’t mean to hurt you! Is your arm okay? Oh my god! Oh my god! Someone call a medic. Someone get me a Healer! MY PRECIOUS HUBBY WUBBY IS HURT!” She pulled him to her and then cradled his head against her bosom as if she had forgotten that she was the one responsible for his injury.