Lisa Fin Gradral of the house Gradral, Princess of Heirland castle, and heir to the thrown of Fairland, suppressed her longing sigh of boredom at her maid’s useless babble. She cared not who was seeing whom and who had been seen at lovers’ lake with whom the night after last week’s ball. But she dared not let on to her boredom, lest she lose the best friend she had, if you could call it friendship.

Azure eyes blinking, slim, red mouth quirking in to a smile, and pale blond, braided hair swishing back and forth flashed in front of her eyes. “Lydrind,” she moaned before she could stop herself. The maid, Eli, straightened and grabbed her princess’s shoulders.

“Think not of him, my lady. Left you, he did. Killed his fath…the late King of Lieland, he did. Save no room in your heart for a killer with no honor.” At Eli’s last word, a slap contacted her cheek, sending her sprawling.

“Know you that his father hated him, that his father brought his death on himself, that his father was evil. And know you that Lydrind had honor!” Lisa sent a glare at her maid and stormed away from her, crying.

Time found Lisa outside the castle gate, under a weeping willow that cried less then she. A hand, clasped against her chest, held a small cross. Of simple metal and design, it snuggled cold against her chest. Her love’s peasant mother had worn it, then him, now her. The weeping willow hiding her, she fell into a dream filled with images of azure eyes and the frolic play of two royal children.

A soft wind drifted over her face, awakening her. Her eyes fluttered open, a smile ghosting over her face. A small boy, dressed in her house’s livery, knelled next to her. She thought he was a he, by the way his boys’ servant uniform folded and contoured against his slim body. A long braid, black with brown highlights, contrasted against his sky coloured eyes.

He handed her a damp washcloth and waited as she wiped the lair of salt of her skin.

++++++

The crowd laughed as the old man flipped and somersaulted in the Players’ Delight, a square next to the main market where all the musicians, puppeteers, storytellers, and acrobats went to perform for mere coppers and a chance to be picked to play before the court or a lord’s ball. Peasants and princess crowed cheek to cheek to see the Performers.

Lisa tossed two coppers in the metal bowl held by what appeared to be the acrobat’s grandson. Inching out of the crowd, she held the little boy’s wrist in her hand. The boy protested not, but continued glancing over his shoulder. He had not laughed at the man, nor did Lisa expect him to. The boy was a mute, or so every one thought. He was Lisa’s favorite servant because of his comfortable, soothing and mostly quiet presence.

Ducking in an ally to get out of the masses, neither relished that they were alone not. A drunken chuckle heard they from the end of the ally.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? A royal princess and her pretty servant? A ransom and a future whore?” The speaker grabbed Lisa’s forearm, causing a bruise. His colleague bent down to grab the boy.

“Stop!” A tenor, commending voice said, and Lisa recognized it! The kidnappers stopped and their eyes glazed over. “Unhand the princess, leave this land, and never touch her again.” They did as the voice said, in fast, mechanical movements.

“Lydrind?” whispered Lisa. The boy muttered something. A white glow spread over his body and stretched him. The glow dimmed to nothing and there, staring into her eyes, stood Lydrind. “But how? It can’t be.”

“Lynne.”

“Your sister?”

“We were talking. She told me that she wanted to be like the Virgin Mary and wait until she reached full age. We know not that our father listened to us. He strode in, leered at Lynne, and he said he could fill her up nice and good. I could not let him do it. A reached inside myself, felt my demon fourth, and told my father to die like the demon he was. And he did. He…erupted. So much blood! I couldn’t stand it, I remembered the times we shared, wished for them, and…”

Lisa leaned forward and planted a kiss on his still moving lips. “Don’t worry, you have me know,” she murmured. And kissed him again.