What happened in your sims 3 game today?

The walk through the market took on a new energy with King Arthur at Ella’s side. The bustling crowds seemed to part naturally for them, people bowing their heads or nodding in respect as the king passed. Ella kept her eyes forward, still in disbelief at the turn her day had taken. She had come to sell mere apples and carrots, but now she found herself escorted by the King of Camelot himself.

Arthur glanced at her occasionally, noting the way she held herself with both humility and a quiet strength. There was something captivating about her—an inner grace that spoke of endurance and gentleness. She reminded him of a wildflower growing stubbornly in rocky soil, beautiful and resilient despite the harshness around her.

Just as they were nearing the merchant Arthur had spoken of, the air changed. The sky, which had been clear that morning, darkened with ominous clouds that gathered swiftly, as if conjured by some unseen force. A low rumble of thunder rolled across the heavens, and the wind began to pick up, swirling dust and leaves around them. The crowd in the market started to disperse, vendors hastily covering their goods and people rushing to find shelter.

Merlin, who had been walking a few paces behind with Lancelot, looked up with a knowing frown. “A storm is coming, and a fierce one at that,” he murmured. “We must seek shelter, Arthur, before the rain falls.”

Arthur nodded, turning to Ella. “Come, there is an old church just beyond the square. It will serve as shelter until the storm passes.”

Ella agreed with a nod, her heart beginning to race as the wind whipped around them, tugging at her hair and skirts. She clutched her basket tightly, following Arthur’s lead as they hurried toward the small, weathered church at the edge of the market.

The first drops of rain began to fall, heavy and cold, splattering against the cobblestone streets. They quickened their pace, and by the time they reached the church’s arched doorway, the rain had turned into a torrential downpour. They slipped inside just as the heavens opened fully, releasing a deluge that hammered against the wooden roof and stone walls.

Inside, the church was dimly lit by the pale light filtering through stained glass windows, casting colorful patterns on the stone floor. It was quiet, save for the patter of rain and the occasional rumble of thunder that echoed through the ancient space. The air was cool and smelled faintly of old wood and incense.

Lancelot and Merlin exchanged glances, both sensing that their presence might not be needed in the next few moments. Lancelot cleared his throat, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I think I shall check around the back, ensure there be no leaks in the roof,” he said, his voice filled with good-natured mischief.

Merlin nodded, catching on. “And I shall see if there be any candles to light. A bit of warmth in such a storm would do us all good.”With that, the two men quietly made their way toward the back of the church, leaving Arthur and Ella standing near the altar, alone in the soft, filtered light.

Ella set down her basket and turned to face Arthur, her cheeks flushed from the brisk walk and the unexpected closeness to the king. “Thank you, Your Majesty,” she said, her voice gentle but sincere. “For the shelter, and for thy kindness in helping me today. I know not what I have done to deserve such favor.”

Arthur stepped closer, his eyes holding hers. “Thou hast done more than thou dost realize, Ella,” he replied softly. “Thou hast shown courage in the face of cruelty, and kindness even when it is not returned to thee. That is a rare strength, one I admire greatly.”

Ella blushed, looking down at her hands. “I have known little else but to endure, my lord. ‘Tis not always easy, but I try to find light where I can, even if it is but a flicker.”

Arthur reached out, gently lifting her chin so that she met his gaze again. His touch was light, but it sent a shiver through her, a warmth that seemed to chase away the cold from the storm outside. “And that, Ella, is what makes thee remarkable,” he said, his voice low and earnest. “There is a light in thee, a fire that refuses to be snuffed out, no matter how the world may try.”

Ella’s breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest. She had never heard such words before, not from anyone who mattered, and certainly not from someone as noble as the king. She could hardly believe that he, a man who ruled over all of Camelot, could see anything in her—a mere servant girl.

“Your Majesty…” she began, her voice trembling. “I am but a commoner, a girl of no consequence. Why dost thou speak to me so?”

Arthur’s eyes softened, his hand still gently holding her chin. “Because thou art not of no consequence, Ella. Every life in Camelot holds worth, and thine is no exception. I see in thee the strength to change thy fate, to rise above thy circumstances. And if there is aught I can do to help thee, I shall.”

For a moment, the world outside seemed to fade—the thunder, the rain, the distant voices—all of it became a distant murmur compared to the intensity of his gaze. Ella felt herself drawn to him, to his warmth and his sincerity. She wanted to believe his words, to trust that he meant them, but fear held her back.

“I know not what to say,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “No one hath ever spoken to me this way before. I fear I may wake and find this all a dream.”

Arthur smiled, a gentle, reassuring smile. “If ‘tis a dream, then mayhap we should cherish it while it lasts.”

He leaned in slightly, his face close to hers, and for a moment, it seemed as if the very air between them held its breath. Ella felt a flutter in her chest, a sense of anticipation she had never known. She could feel the warmth radiating from him, the softness in his eyes that told her he was not just a king, but a man—a man who saw her, truly saw her, in a way no one ever had.

But before she could speak again, a sudden crack of thunder broke the spell, shaking the church’s rafters and making her jump. Arthur’s hand moved to steady her, his arm encircling her protectively.

“Fear not,” he whispered, his breath warm against her ear. “I am here, and I shall not let harm befall thee.”

Ella leaned into him slightly, feeling the steady beat of his heart through his tunic, the strong, reassuring presence of him. In that moment, with the storm raging outside and the quiet intimacy of the church wrapping around them, she felt something shift inside her—a tiny seed of hope, blooming against all odds.

“Thank you, Arthur,” she whispered back, daring to use his name. “For seeing me… and for helping me to see myself.”

Arthur’s smile widened, and for a moment, they simply stood there, holding on to the warmth and the connection that had sparked between them. It was a small thing, fragile and new, but it was enough to make Ella believe that maybe, just maybe, her life was about to change in ways she had never imagined.