He stood at the door, clad in teal, waiting for his name to be called. He was the Teal Knight, but only by his mother’s insistence. She had dreamed of glory and fame for her son, of invitations to royal balls and courtly gossip. She had forced him to enter the Knights of the Prism Tournament, hoping he would bring honour to their family name. But he had no interest in knighthood, nor in the colour that marked him as a lesser noble. He had other passions, like music and poetry, like crafting and storytelling.