The noise on the training grounds had grown, evening had arrived, and it meant only one thing. Competition. In the evenings, the knights and their apprentices would gather and a tournament was held among the apprentices; the knights placed bets on them, and this had become a kind of tradition. The bets had already been placed; Sir Nikkos and Qobires had placed their bets and were now enjoying the spectacle. Two armored warriors stood in the circle, both agile, fast, and strong. Both showed such amazing skill with the sword that a man watching would think they were not fighting but dancing. The swords clattered against each other, making such a sound that it made the earth tremble. The difference between the warriors was not so much in skill as it was in size. One of them was a true giant. Tall and thin. He was a good master and fighter but was never distinguished by great strength. They called him Master Stick. His opponent, however, was a tiny, small one. But fast as lightning and a fighter like a lion, never surrendering to anyone for a single second. No one ever mentioned his name, and everyone treated him with awe. By nickname, they called him the Shadow-born.

  The confrontation lasted a long while; both tried for a long time to defeat the other but could not manage it. Now, the tall Master swung his sword heavily. This was an impermissible mistake; the fighter standing before him had earned his nickname deservedly and was justifying it. The sword swung and completely missed the warrior, who bypassed "Stick" while his sword was still buried in the sand, and with one movement rolled him onto the ground; at that moment, the boy’s helmet also fell off. Nikkos looked disappointed and banged his hand on the table in anger. Qobires, however, was laughing heartily and saying: “You see, brother, my 'morsel' beats your trained giant.” Nikkos was burning with rage but could say nothing. The boy tried to get up, but before he could raise his head, the fighter pressed a sword against his throat. “I surrender!” the boy cried out. The blade moved away from his neck and was thrust into its scabbard. The boy stood up and bowed low to the one standing before him. Nikkos and Qobires came out and said, “You were fantastic, please remove your helmet.”

  The warrior removed the helmet, and from there, thick, long black hair fell out, and two green pearls shone from the face instead of eyes. “Today’s winner of the competition is Princess Elena,” Qobires cried out with joy and looked at Nikkos, who looked as if he were forced to be there. “Sir Nikkos,” the girl began, “you gave me a wonderful entertainment today as well, but I must ask you: when will these games become a competition?” Hearing this, Nikkos caught fire and was throwing sparks; smoke was rising from him, but what could he say? The girl standing before him was a Princess and no one else. Looking at the infuriated Nikkos, Qobires covered his face with his shirt collar and could barely contain his laughter. “I promise you, Princess, that soon you will have a worthy opponent,” Nikkos somehow managed to mutter. “Good. Otherwise, I cannot leave my father’s life to the hope of these people,” the Princess replied, turned around, and left the circle.

  The circle opened and gave way; no one made a sound. Nikkos whispered to Qobires: “A true viper, by God; a man trapped in a maiden’s body and seemingly trying to escape from there.” “What can we do, brother? Whoever is trapped in whose body, she is still a Princess, and it is our duty to speak and behave with awe toward her, otherwise, if something comes out salty, her father will curse our heads with his venomous tongue and turn us into animals; and you know the King’s character, he believes everything his little maiden says, and they will throw our heads into some ravine.” “Unfortunately, it is so,” Nikkos sighed and headed toward his tower.

  In the meantime, Elena had already arrived in the palace gardens. She noticed her mother there, who was sitting and reading. Her mother looked up at her once, turned up her nose, and continued reading, as if it weren't her daughter passing by but some dirty beggar who had disturbed the Queen. “Fine, mother, let it be so; sorry that I wasn't born as the ideal princess for you,” Elena muttered to herself. She entered the bathhouse, where the servants were already waiting for her. The bathhouse was generally a quiet, calm, and somber place where you would hardly hear a word from anyone. Only the Queen and the Princesses went there, and neither the Queen nor Melisandra had any interest in listening to the servants' gossip. As soon as the servants saw Elena, their faces brightened, their mood improved, and they asked in unison: “Princess Elena, which poor soul did you roll in the mud and filth today?” The servants knew Elena's passion well, and Elena hid nothing from them. On the contrary, she would often talk to them. Elena was interested in everything, whether it was gossip or truth: who loved whom, who was watching whom, who stole what, and who betrayed whom. The servants loved her because with Elena, they could speak freely, gossip; moreover, Elena would order them to tell stories. It happened this way now as well. The Princess took off her leather cloak and trousers and hung them nearby. Then she lay down and the servants began their work. Two servants washed her hair, four her body, and four her feet. The Princess was lying down and asking the servants: “Have you heard anything new today?” “No, Princess,” the servants replied, “nothing interesting is happening in the palace anymore, especially since your brother had the poor gardener Yoren hanged because of a kiss.” “Vaelor had Yoren killed? Why did he do that?” Elena asked. “It turns out Yoren was talking to the cook, whom he liked.” “Ana?” asked the Princess. “Yes, Princess, Ana.” “And what happened? I see nothing bad in that,” the Princess asked, confused. “Yoren confessed his love, Ana also confessed, and they kissed each other. Your brother, Prince Vaelor, witnessed all of this.” “But why did he have him killed because of that?” “Princess, your brother was very drunk. When Ana was coming to the kitchen, she could no longer hold back tears of joy; your brother saw her in tears and thought something bad had happened; because of this, he rushed at him, first beat him severely there, and then ordered Sir Nikkos to hang him.” The Princess frowned; it was clear this was not the first time she had heard such a story. “I have a brainless drunk and heartless brother, didn't you know?” No one answered her. The servants trusted Elena enough to gossip around her, but they certainly wouldn't dare say such a thing about her brother. The Princess also understood them and did not speak further.

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  When the Princess was finished, she stood up and put on a newly brought silk dress and high-heeled boots, which she wore only in the evening for her father to see. She came out of the bathhouse and began the walk toward the hall. She had only about 100 steps to walk to the hall, and these 100 steps were the most painful 100 steps for her during the day. The high heels were uncomfortable, and she never wore them enough to get used to them, but she endured the pain, since her father had to see her as perfect because he didn't see her at any other time, and if he ever saw what she actually did, he would never let her be. Elena entered the hall and headed toward her father, who sat on the throne just as he had during the conversation with Vaelor during the day. “My daughter has arrived as well!” the King shouted. Elena approached and bowed low. The Queen looked away from Elena, as if she weren't even standing there. “Father, I am tired; with your permission, I will go to rest,” Elena replied. “Of course, my little one; rest, do whatever you wish, for you are a Princess.”

  Elena bowed to her father once more and headed for the library, where she used to meet the people she considered her family. Along the way, everyone she met greeted her as if she were their friend rather than a Princess. Elena answered in the same way; she knew she was their lady, but she never looked down on them. She reached the library. “Where are you, bookworms?” she called out. Melisandra and Robert, who were even expecting her arrival, poked their heads out from the chairs. Both stood up and moved toward Elena. Elena ran in their direction as well. “How are you, Elena?” Melisandra asked. “How are you, El—” Robert was about to finish when Elena jumped on him and overturned the young prince. “I've never been better, how are you two?” she asked as if nothing had happened. Melisandra could not contain her laughter. Robert lay under his sister’s feet as if he were used to this maneuver. Indeed, Elena always met her little brother this way. “Where were you all day?” Melisandra asked. “First practicing with Qobires, then reading for a short while, and then the evening tournament.” “Who did you sacrifice today?” asked Robert, who had stood up and was brushing dust off his shirt. “Alion, the one they call Stick.” “How did you manage a man of Alion’s size?” Melisandra asked in surprise. “Everything doesn't depend on the size of the fighter, sister; everything is in skill and shrewdness. But unfortunately, the gods gave our brother neither one nor the other,” Elena added. Robert’s face seemed to change, as if he were offended. Elena didn't even notice until she looked into her sister’s eyes, which were staring at her angrily as if telling her to apologize. “Fine, Robert, calm down; you know I’m joking, you know how much I love you,” Elena said and hugged Robert. Robert stood like that for a while and then wrapped both arms around Elena and overturned her. Melisandra burst out laughing, while the stunned Elena found herself on the ground. “Did you fall for it, dear sister?” Robert replied. “You tricked me, you forest monkeys!” Elena shouted. “Fine, calm down; you know I’m joking,” Robert said and held out his hand to his fallen sister. Elena stood up and told him, “I won't be fooled next time.” “We'll see about that,” the boy said.

  They stood like that for a while, then they left the library and went out into the garden. They lay down in the grass in a circle and looked at the sky, which was burdened with bright stars and adorned by the great moon. A breeze was blowing, leaves were rustling, a fountain nearby was bubbling, and if you listened closely, you could even hear the sound of the servants' singing and merriment. “I wish this place were always this quiet,” Elena said. “Indeed, what is more pleasant than lying on the grass and watching this beautiful sky at this time, in this silence.” “I truly wish it were always like this.” At that moment, a star flew through the sky. “Quick, let’s make a wish,” Melisandra said. “I want to become a Queen one day and have strong and brave children,” Melisandra said. “I would wish for mastery of the sword, the same as the great Lady Eleonor Helfmfolen, and to carry her charisma and name as an undefeated fencer.” Robert remained silent. “What would you wish for, Robert?” the sisters asked him in unison. Robert lay silent for a while, lost in thought about what he would wish for, as if the fulfillment of this wish truly depended on this star. Finally, he muttered: “I wish for the people to erect my statue and remember me.” They lay like that for a little while longer, then Elena stood up. “Where are you heading, Elena? It’s already very late,” Robert asked. “I have a little business, little brother. I’ll settle it and return; you two go and rest, I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” The siblings said goodbye to each other and Elena set off again toward the training ground. Along the way, she took off her high heels and put on Qobires's giant shoes, which were so large they reached above Elena's knee, but what was important was that she was no longer standing on heels and felt comfortable. She passed the training ground and reached the tower of the Chief of the King's Guard. She went up the stairs and knocked on the door. From inside, she heard the sound of footsteps, how the man was approaching the door. The door opened and the first voice came from there: “Which good-for-nothing dared to disturb my—” “Princess?” The knight's jaw dropped. “Sir Nikkos; may I come in?” asked the Princess. “Of course,” the knight replied and invited her into the room. Elena entered and sat down on a chair nearby. “The servants told me about my brother’s heroic deed,” Elena began. “What do you mean?” asked the knight. “The cook whom he beat, and then you hanged him. Wasn't it so?” “Princess...” “No,” Elena interrupted, “you blindly carried out my drunk brother’s order and killed an innocent man.” “Princess,” the knight began again. “I haven't finished,” Elena interrupted again, “did it even occur to you to find out what happened or why my brother ordered his killing, or did you not care at all?” “I didn't kill him, Princess.” “Didn't you feel sorr— What?” “I didn't kill him, Princess.” “But the servants said...” “The servants said what they saw.” “How I dragged Yoren out of there; but believe me, Princess, no one knows your brother's actions and behavior better than I, especially when he's drunk.” “Then what did you do to him?” Elena asked, already confused. “I dragged him out and let him go outside; he'll be much better there than he would have been here.” “So he's alive?” “Yes, Princess, he's alive; I don't know where or how he is, but I let him go alive.” “Fine, thank you Sir Nikkos. Now I can sleep peacefully now that this sorrow has left my heart.” Elena stood up and silently left the tower. She came out of the pitch-black, quiet, and dark training ground, put on her heels, and headed toward her own room to rest.