I initially thought they’d left the gate open for my return, but they were actually waiting for the elves’ delegation. An elf mage had been sent ahead to announce their arrival and make preparations for their quarters.
At the gate stood Loretta and Dohum, likely there to lend a human touch to the orc guard detail. More orcs were stationed in the towers, keeping watch. Clad in black armor with steel weapons occasionally catching the light, they added a menacing edge to the scene, a stark contrast against the castle’s ethereal glow.
As I entered the yard, I took in the sight of the castle: light beacons illuminated the walls and towers, casting that fantasy-like glow over the entire structure. I wondered what Mike had done to achieve this effect—and at what cost. But it was worth it; he was clearly pulling out all the stops to make a strong impression, and it was absolutely beautiful.
As I crossed the yard toward the entry door, admiring Mike’s handiwork, Sir Gamesh appeared from one of the castle entrances.
“Lady Lores! Lady Lores! I’m glad to see you! Do you have a solution for our problems, Lady Lores?”
I sighed and quickly pulled a blanket from my inventory to cover myself; this fool would surely dispel my illusions again! I wrapped it around myself just in time, fashioning it like a Roman toga as he joined me.
I almost gave him a hasty response, like: Can that princeling not go a day without talking to his girlfriend? But I stopped to calm myself. The truth was, I got along well with the prince. He’d shown himself more down-to-earth and approachable than many nobles. So, why was it so hard to find someone willing to chat with him for half an hour?
“Are you sure it’s just conversation he’s after, and nothing more?” I asked again, seeking clarity.
“Lady Lores,” he exclaimed with a sigh, “I’ve never been present when the prince spoke with Lady Fara, but Dame Elanea was. Neither she nor Dame Anda ever raised any concerns, so I can confidently say you have nothing to worry about.”
I sighed. I wasn’t about to ask Alice or Ju to handle this, let alone Tina. He was, after all, closer to me than any of them.
“All right, I’ll speak to him myself then, Sir Gamesh.”
He looked surprised at first but then visibly relieved.
“In that case, might we proceed right away, Lady Lores?” he asked eagerly.
“Sir Gamesh, I’d like to wash up and change first—I’ve just come in from the rain.”
“If that’s all, may I suggest the prince’s bath? A mage repaired it, so it’s working perfectly. Dame Anda’s maid can assist you with the preparations if you like.”
I hesitated, then nodded. Why not? I was still in my own castle, and I could finally take a proper bath!
“Can that mage work on the other installations too?” I asked.
“Possibly, but you’d need to make arrangements with him. He did it as a courtesy for us—it’s an elf mage who arrived ahead of the delegation to prepare accommodations for their group.”
Ah, to bring our accommodations up from the standard of these primitive neanderthals, was it? It stung all the more because it was true; we hadn’t yet managed to fix it ourselves.
I followed Sir Gamesh to the prince’s quarters and was glad I’d agreed to use his bath. Dame Anda’s maid demonstrated how everything worked, then insisted on helping me wash my hair. To my surprise, I discovered she was also a skilled masseuse. She was so good, in fact, that by the time I went to meet the prince, I felt entirely at ease, pacified and mollified.
I met the prince dressed in a fluffy satin gown, and after about fifteen minutes of casual chatting, he mentioned that it was time to put on the diadem. Once I placed it on my head, we waited. At first, nothing happened; we continued talking and sipping refreshments. I began to hope that perhaps Dame Fara had forgotten or simply couldn’t connect—when suddenly, I felt it stir, as though the diadem was coming to life, guided by an alien will attempting to take control of my body.
Instinctively, I fought back at first, until I realized what I was doing. Taking a deep breath, I let go and allowed it to happen. The experience was odd but not nearly as uncomfortable or unsettling as I had expected. I couldn’t read the thoughts or mind of the other person controlling my body, but I sensed that I could disrupt her hold with some effort. For now, though, I chose not to interfere.
The sensation grew less awkward as time went on, but I still didn’t feel entirely at ease. It’s strange, watching yourself speak and gesture in ways that don’t quite feel like you. In some ways, it reminded me of being controlled by White Flower, though her influence had felt different—as if she were a part of me rather than an entirely separate presence.
Still, it hadn’t been all that bad. Overall, it was a relatively pleasant evening. The prince was kind and thoughtful enough to stay and chat with me afterward, which kept me from feeling entirely like a puppet. Perhaps he genuinely enjoyed our conversations?
The delegation didn’t show up—probably because of the weather, or so the paladins assumed.
Honestly, I didn’t mind; it meant I could finally head to bed. As I hurried toward my room, I passed through the library and spotted Sid, deeply engrossed in yet another book. He looked up as I walked by, closed his book and stopped me with a question.
“Hi Mom! Mom, I have a question about a girl, Kate.”
I raised an eyebrow. Are we already at the stage of girl questions?
"Who is Kate?" I asked.
"She's the maid who cleans my room," he explained. "I looked at her and came to the conclusion that I need her!"
My eyelashes fluttered in panic. "What do you mean, you need her?"
He seemed totally unfazed by my reaction. "Well, she should have more time for me and be freed from other duties," he explained, though something in his tone felt oddly stubborn and awkward. My instincts nudged me—he was holding something back. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing thoughts and think rationally.
Now, Lores, I told myself, what could a youngster like Sid possibly want with Kate?
As my breathing settled, I managed a smile. “What kind of work?” I asked, curious.
“Cleaning,” he replied, a bit evasively. “I watched her—she’s quick and good at it. I want her to help me clean and get a few more rooms ready.”
I sighed, feeling a weight lift from my chest, then chuckled at the thought of the poor girl. With Sid watching her work, of course she’d try to be as quick and efficient as possible just to finish and get away. Could I refuse such a simple request from him?
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Of course, you can ask her to help, but don’t overwork her, alright? If there’s too much to do, just spread it across more staff. Mike can assign them if you ask him.”
He shook his head.
"I want to keep this a bit of a secret, Mom, just for me and... whoever I want to invite. Is that okay?" he asked with an innocent look.
I almost smirked but kept a serious expression with some effort. Kids always need a secret space; there was nothing wrong with him wanting it cleaned by our staff. I could even encourage it.
"Of course!" I replied with a nod.
I thought that settled things, but just as I took a step toward the inviting bed, he spoke up again.
"Oh, and Mom, I'd like to make the red tower my tower—is that okay?"
At first, his question threw me. Then it clicked. So, his special room must be there!
"The red tower?" I asked, trying to recall which of the seventeen towers that could be.
“It’s not exactly red, but that’s what I call it. Come on, I’ll show you,” he said, leading me to the window. He pointed out the second-highest tower of the castle.
"Why do you call it the red tower?” I asked, seeing nothing particularly red about it.
“See that line of red bricks? Right there.”
“Oh, got it! Why didn’t you go for the highest tower?” I teased.
He exhaled as though I’d just missed something very obvious. “Mom, that’s reserved for you! I picked the second-highest," he explained with utmost seriousness.
I fought back a chuckle. “Well, it’s thoughtful of you, Sid. But you know, if you wanted, you could have the highest tower too.”
“Really?” He paused, considering it, then shook his head. “No, I already picked the second-highest! I’ll stick with the red tower. Besides, it’d be too much for poor Kate to clean both.”
"Alright, fine by me! But, why do you need the tower, Sid? I’m fine with you having it—I’m just curious what you plan to do with it!”
He looked at me warily, as if worried I might change my mind, but then his face brightened, and he began explaining with growing excitement.
“Well, it’s a must, Mom! A respected dragon has to have a tower! That’s the first step to being respected. Then, he needs two very important things in that tower! It’s all in the book!”
“The fairy tale book Ju gave you?” I asked, trying not to grin.
A flash of irritation crossed his face. “Mom, that’s a dragon history book!” he insisted, as he’d reminded me before.
I chuckled. “Alright, alright. So, what does your ‘history’ book say you need a tower for?”
He looked left and right to make sure no one else was around, then leaned in close and spoke in a hushed voice.
“Don’t tell anyone, but I want to keep my hoard in there!” He took a deep breath, excitement lighting up his face. “Mom, every dragon needs a hoard, right? That’s the first step to being a respected dragon! I want to put my hoard in the tower, and nobody should be able to go in without my permission.”
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. It did make a sort of sense; every kid dreams of pirate treasure and hidden stashes.
“A hoard? You have a hoard? What exactly are you hoarding?” I asked, intrigued.
He shrugged, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Mom, treasures, of course! What else would a dragon hoard?”
What kind of treasures could he have been collecting? I made a mental note to take a peek someday, but for now, I’d let him surprise me.
“OK, Sid, OK. As I said, that tower is yours. I’m going to bed now.”
“Fine,” he replied. “Perfect! I’ll go fetch Kate. Bye, Mom!”
I rolled my eyes and headed straight to my room, where my bed—and the familiar sound of a snoring elf—were waiting. Finally, some well-deserved rest after a long, exhausting day! I went into the bathroom, cleaned my teeth with the new powder Mike had given me as a toothpaste replacement, washed my face, changed into my pajamas, and slipped into bed.
Just as I was about to drift off, a soft voice sounded in my mind.
“Mom, can I come in and sleep in your bed?”
I pressed my fingers to my brows, trying to think clearly. How late was it? The light streaming in from the moons, filtering through the satin drapes as they moved gently in the night breeze, didn’t help me judge the time.
“Sure, Sid,” I replied.
I hadn’t even finished my thought when Sid was already in bed beside me. He must have been waiting just outside the door for me to say yes.
“Hey, close the door!” I whispered.
Fast as the wind, the door was shut, and my pillow promptly claimed.
“Thanks, Mom!” he murmured, pulling my blanket over himself before falling quiet without even asking for a story. I reached out and gently smoothed his hair as he hugged the pillow closer.
I shifted over to Ju’s pillow, and she mumbled something in her sleep, turning to give me just enough space. I tugged a corner of her blanket over myself, and as soon as my head hit the pillow, I was fast asleep.
*
Merthid yawned, stretched, and opened her eyes to a new day breaking. She made her way to the kitchen, where she found the piece of bread left out for her, took a quick drink of water, and then headed to open the gate for the geese.
The geese greeted her warmly, some of them nibbling her fingers as if to chide her gently for being late, though never with any intent to hurt. She giggled and started toward the river, the geese trailing along behind her. She knew just the spot—a pleasant stretch near the castle, with cool shade from the bushes for her to rest under, and for the geese, the promise of shallow pools and winding river branches teeming with food.
When she reached the river, Merthid discovered her usual spot had been trampled, the bushes crushed. Disappointed but undeterred, she searched for a while and soon found a decent spot nearby—a small, sheltered nook in the riverbank. She settled in, nibbling at the piece of bread that would be her only food for the day. She knew that she’d get something more to eat only later, once she returned home, but she didn’t mind; her work was simple—just keep an eye on the geese. And here by the castle, there were no large quetzas that might threaten her or the flock.
After a pleasant day, as she was preparing to head home in the late afternoon, she glanced at the ground where she’d been resting so comfortably. Her heart raced as she took in what lay before her: the whole hollow she had nestled into was actually a massive footprint. A giant foot had pressed into the earth, creating that stable, smooth spot where she’d been sleeping so peacefully. A footprint as big as she was. The sight overwhelmed her, and her legs buckled as she fainted.
The gentle nibbling of the alarmed geese at her toes woke her a little while later. Heart pounding as though it might burst from her chest, she stood and forced herself to look again. Yes, it was indeed a footprint. This time, she managed to stay on her feet.
She looked around and spotted another footprint further off, then another—four in total. But strangely, they didn’t continue in any direction; there were no other giant footprints before or after them. It was as if some huge creature had stepped out of the water… but there weren’t any prints leading into the river, either. Perhaps the river had washed away any others. But if so, where had the creature gone?
Looking more closely, she noticed something even odder: a set of human footprints, bare and delicate, appearing right beside the last giant print, as though the monster had vanished and a person had appeared in its place. Yet even these human footprints didn’t come from anywhere or lead anywhere beyond that spot. They simply existed, as if someone had materialized out of thin air.
As she climbed up the riverbank, her heart still racing, she saw more of the human tracks in the grass ahead—feminine, slight, like those of a woman or young person. They headed straight toward the castle, as though someone had dropped from the sky and walked directly there. The geese began to pinch her, reminding her of the time. She looked up at the twin gods in the sky; it was getting late. With a last, uneasy glance at the footprints, she hurried home.