The sun shone brightly above a group of mounted soldiers. Priscilla had traveled from Arcadia to the borders of Akrapocalis, a dwarven citadel to the east in order to fulfill her Queen’s orders. Although knighted the day before, she was no longer clad in armor but instead a simple enchanted garb hand tailored to her needs.

  It consisted of a white overcoat with reinforced chainmail underneath, metal leg guards that covered the front of her legs while keeping most of her mobility intact. She had a rapier tied to her belt. It was made for thrusting and it would be considered a poor weapon in the eyes of other knights that favored bigger weapons like a lance, battleaxe or halberds.

  She was traveling with a small escort composed of three other knights clad in steel armor and two academy mages with dark blue robes. The front-most knight turned around as he noticed the city gates of Arrivaul.

  “Dame. We’re almost here. Are you sure about this? A word in Queen Leona’s name would suffice to dispel any doubts they may have against us.”

  “No, although it was an order. I must accomplish it on my own without raising too much suspicion. Our kingdom alliance’s are treading on thin ice thanks to the previous king’s actions and we mustn’t soil the Queen’s good name.”

  Though hesitant, the knight spoke with respect.

  “As you wish, Dame.”

  Upon reaching the fortified gates, Priscilla stood amongst the wary eyes of pikemen that served as guards. One of them stepped forward while raising his hand.

  “Halt! What is your business here?”

  The dame led her horse in front of her escorts and with a small bow. She introduced herself.

  “My name is Priscilla. I’ve come to register myself as an adventurer.”

  The two guards looked at each other with suspicion in their eyes.

  “An adventurer, with an escort as expensive as yours?” He glanced behind her, noting the knights and mages. “Must be nice to have deep pockets.”

  At the guard’s remark, one of the knights straightened, his gauntlet clad fingers tightened over the pommel of his mace. The mages exchanged glances but remained quiet. Priscilla did not dare to look back—hesitation would only invite further unwelcomed inquiry. Thus she continued with the grace of a noble.

  “My father is a nobleman hence why this strict entourage. But rest assured I am my own woman and I only wish to become stronger.”

  The first guard smirked.

  “A noble’s daughter playing adventurer is it? Can’t say we haven’t seen this before.”

  The second guard scratched his hairline before adjusting the kettle helmet on his head.

  “If you truly want to register, you’ll need to follow the necessary procedures. No exceptions.”

  She nodded in agreement.

  “That sounds fine to me.” She smiled before turning her steed around and dismounting before addressing her escort. “Please, tell father that I’ll be staying in Arrivaul for a while longer.”

  Though hesitant, the frontmost knight bowed with his arm in front of his chest and grabbed the reins of Priscilla’s horse off her hands.

  “As you wish, my Lady.” He turned around and raised his right hand. “We have accomplished our mission. Let us return.”

  Without showing any hesitation, each one of them turned their horses around and began a slow march back to Arcadia. Priscilla wore a faint smile before turning towards the gate guards.

  “Where can I register?”

  “Before that…” The first guard looked at her from head to toe. “What’s your name, Miss?”

  “Priscilla. Priscilla Avellion.”

  “Avellion… Avellion… doesn’t ring a bell.”

  “My family rose in wealth quite recently.”

  “Ah… nouveau riche then.” He glanced at the other guard with a mocking smirk. “Guess we let her in then.”

  The second guard nodded before pointing at the thin stone obelisk in the center of the city.

  “Go to the central square. The adventurer’s guild is right beside the inn.”

  Priscilla bowed slightly and forced a smile before heading inside. She could feel the two guard’s stares on her back but she held off the urge to turn back and punch them.

  ‘You are a royal knight now… act as one, Priscilla!’ However, her thoughts and body were at odds as fingers from both hands clenched into a pair of tight fists. ‘But nouveau riche?! How can one be so uncouth as to call me such a thing?!’

  Her rage carried through each heavy step she took towards the central square. Though furrowing, her side profile painted her a gallant and serious dame that caught the eyes of those around her. Unbeknownst to her, she was already making quite an impact by simply walking through the streets.

  Despite being known as a city now, Arrivaul was nothing more than a small town a few years ago. The appearances of mysterious dungeons across the continent promptly gathered those that sought fame and riches. That place was no exception.

  She reached the central square where a sharp black obelisk stood tall. The stone pavement beneath her feet felt smooth. Smoother than Arcadia’s uneven streets which made her wonder just how much effort was put in expanding the city.

  “Hear ye! Hear ye!” A loud strident male voice accompanied by a ringing bell caught Priscilla’s attention as she passed by a town crier standing atop of a wooden podium on the side of the street surrounded by people. “The northern kingdom of Londria opens its borders once again! Merchants and traders throughout the realm are welcomed! Hear ye! Hear ye!”

  He continued repeating his words whilst ringing the handbell.

  “Londria huh?” She muttered under her breath as she slowed her pace. “It wasn’t too long ago they had an issue with their own minister.” She became briefly lost in thought before shaking her head slightly and taking a sharp, deep breath. “No. This is Dame Phoebe’s duty, not mine.”

  She began to walk alongside the path around the obelisk while keeping an eye on the different store signs hanging above each establishment.

  “General goods store, blacksmith, leatherwork guild…? Huh… that’s unusual-” As she was looking at the store—she felt something bump into her which almost made her stumble backwards. “Oof!” She glanced to her right and saw a kid the height of her elbow wearing a dark brown cloak dash past her. “Hey! Tsk…”

  She caught a glimpse of a pair of azure eyes beneath the hood staring back at her before she turned around. After adjusting her clothing she continued to walk until she noticed an engraved wooden sign: ‘Inn’. Just to the right of it stood the building she’d been looking for.

  “Adventurer’s guild.”

  She muttered under her breath. It was a two story establishment with a balcony and a wide front with enough space for two large oval windows on each side of the doorway. Thick reinforced wooden beams supported the structure. It was obviously hastily built in order to accommodate the influx of people but it was nevertheless impressive considering how small that town used to be.

  Without wasting any time, she pressed her hands against the double wooden doors and pushed them forward. A strong sharp warm scent of alcohol hit her nose accompanied by the subtle lingering smell of burning firewood and dust.

  She walked inside and the wooden floor creaked beneath her feet. The guild was bustling with people. Adventurers both young and aged were looking for work regarding the exploration and looting of the newly formed dungeon. There was no shortage of jobs on the bulletin board, even less so of people to provide manpower.

  Though Priscilla wasn’t interested in any of that. She was there for her mission and so she decided to go straight to the guild counter that was in the center of the large hall.

  On her way there she felt glares coming from both sides. Near each window were located round wooden tables that were being used to hold the countless wooden tankards filled to the brim with ale. Patrons and adventurers alike turned their heads to the gallant fencer who had just stepped into their den—a place steeped in sweat, blood and the weight of both glory and failure.

  But she wasn’t intimidated. It wasn’t the first time she had to deal with a crowd and it wouldn’t be the last. Her footsteps kept her moving with conviction until she reached the frontdesk. A few green adventurers were occupying most of the space around it but a gentle voice reached Priscilla’s ears as she felt a tug on her left sleeve.

  “Hi, are you here to register?” A woman gently pinched her clothes. “I can help you if you want.”

  Upon turning around she noticed it was a young woman about a palm shorter than her. She wore a long sleeved white shirt, a neat black necktie, black leather gloves, tight black pants and black leather high boots. Her short silver hair and endearing golden eyes made Priscilla feel like an older sister for a split second before she cleared her throat.

  “I um… yes. I want to register as an adventurer.”

  The receptionist smiled warmly before motioning with her left hand towards one vacant desk in the corner.

  “Right this way.” She went around the desk before producing a pre-filled sheet of parchment from behind the counter. “You’ll be required to fill in some information about yourself first. Do you require assistance with reading or writing?”

  “Huh… no, thank you. I can read and write.”

  “Oh, very well.” She opened a small inkwell before gently pushing it forward with a quill. “Here you go. Take your time.”

  Priscilla reached for the feathered pen and gently tapped it against the border of the inkwell to remove the excess—with small precise motions she started to fill the form. Name, occupation, place of birth, relatives, most of it was useless information for handing rewards but it was important nonetheless in case they were to find the aforementioned adventurer’s remains in the dungeon.

  She finished filling in the necessary information, though clearly omitting that she was a royal knight and instead choosing to refer to her occupation as a simple ‘spell fencer’.

  “Here, I finished it.”

  She slipped the paper forward while gently placing the quill back in the inkwell.

  “Very good. Let me just take a look…” The receptionist looked at the sheet of parchment before glancing back at her. “You mentioned you are a spell fencer? Forgive me but I never heard of this occupation before.”

  ‘Oh shoot…’

  “Erm… think like a practitioner of the sword that uses magic. That’s what a spell fencer is.”

  “Ah… I see. Pardon me, I’m somewhat new at this job.” She smiled before putting the inkwell and parchment aside. She then lowered herself to reach for something behind the desk and produced a rectangular plate of copper on the table. “This is your adventurer plate. Keep it on your person when doing jobs or quests and it will keep you out of trouble with the guardsmen.”

  Priscilla nodded and reached for it but the receptionist extended her right open palm forward while placing her left hand over the piece of metal.

  “That’ll be a silver piece.”

  “Ah… right…” The spell fencer had a somewhat awkward smile on her face as she reached for the pouch on her belt where she kept her coins, but it was no longer there. “Huh…?”

  She pulled her coat aside and looked directly at where the pouch should be but only the strings were tied to the leather belt. She had been robbed.

  ‘When did I…’ To have that stolen off her person—whoever was needed to be touching her. ‘But… I didn’t let anybody in town come too close to me.’

  She was right. Nobody that met her ever came into physical contact with her—at least not willingly.

  ‘It was that child…!’

  Her hands were trembling with anger. She never had anything stolen from her in her life. Maybe through sheer luck or the fact she was born as a noble but that feeling of being wronged consumed her from inside out. It was like a grasping hand wringing the life out of her heart.

  “Miss?” The receptionist tilted her head slightly as she looked into Priscilla’s appalled eyes. “Something wrong?”

  “I…” She swallowed dry. Cold beads of sweat started to drop from her brows as she struggled to formulate words. “M-my pouch where I k-kept my coins are-”

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  As she was trying to explain herself, a large presence loomed behind her as an armored gauntlet appeared in front of her.

  “It’ll be a silver piece right?” A male voice came from behind her and as Priscilla glanced over her shoulder she realized there was a knight in full steel armor right beside her. “Lucina.”

  “Oh! Sir Reinhardt! What a pleasant surprise.” The receptionist smiled warmly. “How did the extermination quest go?”

  “A few hiccups. Elaine was wounded by one of the kobolds but it was nothing serious.” His voice sounded muffled from behind the closed helmet. “Ah, um… I’ll fill in the official form later. I have to get back to her.”

  Upon raising his gauntlet off the table, a silver coin was left there and Priscilla—even though she was nervous before, couldn’t just let a stranger pay for her. If anything, making an adventurer cover a royal knight’s mistake felt like an unbearable embarrassment.

  “Ahem, good sir? I appreciate your concern but-”

  “Reinhardt.” The knight turned over his shoulder to look at her from the gap of his helmet. “Adventurers should help each other from time to time. When you make it big you can pay me a round of ale in the tavern.”

  He turned back and left while waving his left hand.

  “I-” Her pride dictated that she continued, but deep inside she knew that refusing help would only make her mission take longer than necessary. So instead she simply bowed towards him as he left the guild hall before returning to the receptionist. “I apologize for my early behavior. I was robbed of my savings so I couldn’t pay the fee.”

  “It’s alright. The fee itself is more for the service than the material we are handing out.” She slid the copper plate forward before pointing towards the door. “You’ve probably seen it but if you head to the right after exiting the guild, you’ll see the blacksmith. Just tell him your name and he’ll mark your plate with it.”

  Priscilla grabbed the metal plate and held it tightly on her left hand as she bowed slightly.

  “Thank you. Miss Lucina.”

  “You are very welcome. Miss Priscilla.”

  With a smile, the receptionist bid farewell to the new adventurer as she exited the guild hall. Outside, the air felt more stifling than when she initially came to town. The gnawing sensation of having something stolen from her was not something she would easily forget as each step of the way to the blacksmith felt like a hurdle of its own as she pondered how she would deal with the lack of funds.

  ‘And those were a couple dozen gold coins funded by the Queen herself!’ She clenched her right hand in pure anger. ‘Oh, the things I’ll do to this pickpocket… even if you are a child, you can’t simply steal things!’

  Despite her anger, she knew there was nothing she could do about it if not hurry on with the guild’s formalities. If worse comes to worst, she could always try her hand at adventuring.

  ‘I’m a royal knight for goodness’ sake… ugh… if Lord Leonnard were to hear of this…’

  She shook her head before taking a sharp deep breath.

  “Hey lass!” A loud male voice caught her attention as she quickly glanced to the side. “Are ye a new adventurer?”

  The one asking was a bald muscular man. He had tanned skin, black thick eyebrows and a pair of dark brown piercing eyes. He wore nothing on his upper body with only a pair of dirty trousers held by a cord of braid hemp.

  ‘Don’t tell me he’s a beggar…’

  He clearly couldn’t read minds but her thoughts were obvious with the disgusted face she was making.

  “Hey, just letting ye know. I’m the one responsible for the ol’ smithery. I’ll make ye pay double for engraving that thing ye carrying if ya keep starin’ at me like that.”

  He pointed at the copper plate that was just peeking between her index and thumb.

  “Ah.”

  After a couple of minutes waiting outside the blacksmith, the bald man came back from inside his shop with Priscilla’s plate tied between two pieces of a thick hemp cord.

  “Ye don’t need it visible. Just keep on ye person when adventurin’ lass.”

  “I am so sorry, sir Geralt. I just had my coin pouch stolen and-”

  “Ah ya don’t need to tell me. It been rough round these parts lately. Kids barely ‘nough to fill their bellies.”

  ‘Huh…? Isn’t Arrivaul supposed to be thriving now…?’

  “What about the orphanage?”

  “Lass, that thing ain’t spitting out folk with upbringing like ye self. Poor nuns barely hav ‘nough for ‘em selves.”

  Priscilla’s eyes narrowed slightly.

  “Can you tell me where the orphanage is?”

  “Aye, right that a-way lass.” He pointed to the south part of the city with his cross pein hammer. “See that cross on top of that building over there? Twas a church until them nuns decided to take care o’ the children.

  “I see. Thank you, Sir-”

  “Atata… no need to sir me lass. Good ol’ Geralt is ‘nough.”

  She smiled faintly before nodding shortly to him.

  “Thank you Geralt.”

  “Aye lass.”

  She made her way across the central square towards the orphanage. She didn’t know much about it, even back in Arcadia. All she knew was that her mother would often help with donations of food or clothes that could be used by other kids in need.

  ‘This isn’t part of my mission but… if it was the Queen, I’m sure she would do the same.’

  With heavy footsteps, she proceeded along the ever narrowing streets. It was strange, the city itself was by no means poor, but aside from the central square and the residential district near the gates, the area around the supposed orphanage felt more like the slums—not that she ever had been in one, but the air and even the ground felt distinctively different from the rest of the city.

  “Ugh… what is that smell…?” She looked to the side of the street where the repugnant odor came from and there was brackish liquid flowing alongside a makeshift gutter dug out from the dirt. “Do they not have proper waste disposal in this part of the city?”

  She looked behind her and only noticed now that she had been walking on a dirt path for quite some time.

  ‘I guess not…’

  The church wasn’t far but seeing the state of the shacks and lack of plumbing made her feel skeptical.

  Once standing right outside the large wooden double doors of the orphanage, she raised her closed right hand and knocked a few times. Her knuckles felt strange, she expected to hit a hard surface but the wood felt strangely soft. After a closer inspection, she noticed the part she knocked her hand on became slightly dented as if the wood was rotten from inside out.

  “Ah, a visitor?” A muffled female voice came from inside. “I’ll get the door, just a minute…”

  Priscilla had time for one last look around the immediate vicinity before the church’s doors opened. An elderly nun wearing worn indigo clothes came from behind the door, her hands were thin and her complexion was pale. Despite her outwardly appearance she still smiled.

  “What can I help you, noble Miss?”

  Her somewhat sunken brown eyes still had a kind and caring warmth to them. Priscilla inadvertently averted her gaze for a brief moment.

  “Ah… this is the orphanage, right?”

  “Yes, the one and only in Arrivaul.”

  Priscilla took a quick peek inside and there was a distinct smell of stagnant air coming from the building.

  “I see…” The spell fencer turned back to the nun. Who was rubbing the rosary between her index and thumb. “Are there any children inside?”

  “Ah, are you looking to adopt a child?”

  “Oh, uh… no. Sorry, I came here to check how things were going. I heard from Geralt that things were… tough.”

  She gave her a tired smile.

  “Haha… that is true. Things are very tough but we get by with the little help we get.”

  “I see. Could I have a word with the children?”

  “Child.” She corrected her with a somewhat sad expression while making way for Priscilla to enter the building. “I still haven’t been able to find a suitable parent for that poor girl…”

  “Excuse me.”

  With a short polite nod she made her way inside. It wasn’t too different from a normal church, but the abandon and decay was painfully visible. Wooden pews were covered with a thin layer of dust and they had a wet, slightly rotten smell to them. The stained glasses that depicted the Goddess of Light were covered with a mixture of dust and dirt that made it almost impossible to see anything through. The same was true for the sculptured statue behind the decaying wooden podium in the middle of the hall.

  “She went out to run some errands of her own, but I’m sure she’ll–”

  The nun’s voice became strained as she coughed dry a few times.

  “Are you alright, sister?”

  “Ah, don’t worry my dear… it’s just my age showing…”

  “This is hardly a place to be called home for adults, let alone a madam of your age and a child.”

  “Haha… I know. My son said the same.” She clasped the rosary between her hands. “But I can’t bring this child with me to Arcadia nor do I have the heart to leave her here alone. As long as I can find someone that can adopt her… as long as it’s someone that can make her happy…”

  “Sister…”

  It felt like strings were strangling Priscilla’s heart. She was never a religious woman nor did she ever find peace through prayer, but one thing was clear. Nobody should ever have to live through such a miserable life.

  ‘This isn’t living… it’s surviving…’

  Whatever dim light came from the grime covered stained window illuminated her saddened expression which made the elderly nun smile warmly in return.

  “Worry not about us, dear. Just the act of someone so beautiful and noble come here to even ask how we were already made my day a bit brighter.”

  “No but this…”

  Suddenly the wooden door behind the spell fencer opened. Her left hand moved to the scabbard near the round handguard of her blade as she turned around. Through a small gap between the doors, a petite hooded figure slipped by and came running directly to the nun—completely ignoring Priscilla.

  “Sister! Sister!” The girl uttered with a happy tone in her voice. She carried a sizable bag of baked goods under her left arm and shook a piece of half-eaten bread with the other. “I got money to feed us for days!”

  From the way she spoke and the spring in her steps, Priscilla deduced she was maybe a teenager.

  ‘So this is the child huh…?’ The spell fencer looked closely and noticed the cloak she was wearing felt oddly familiar. ‘No… it can’t be…’

  “That is incredible, dear! How did you manage to do it?”

  The nun asked with a gentle voice but the girl’s voice suddenly faltered.

  “Ah… I uh…”

  After kneeling in front of her, the sister gently asked.

  “Rionara… my dear, you haven’t been stealing again, have you?”

  “No… I… I found it. Yes, I found it on the ground.” She put the half-eaten bread back in the bag and pulled out a very familiar pouch of coins from her pockets. The ends of the strings were neatly cut. “Here, look how many gold coins are inside, Sister.”

  Seeing her own stolen bag of coins on the hands of a child made Priscilla feel conflicted. While all she wanted was to give that girl a good slap in her rear, she couldn’t in her right mind do something harsh in front of the kind nun that was taking care of said child.

  “She’s inside.”

  A faint male voice near the doorway made Priscilla snap back and quietly hop out of view behind a pew. Peeking from the far left side, she noticed three thugs enter the church. They were an assortment of rags covering most of their bodies as makeshift protection against small blades. Two of them had daggers in hand while the third was holding a hatchet.

  “Are you sure those were gold coins?” The one holding the hatchet was the biggest of the trio and he spoke in a low voice. “Getting in trouble with the guardsmen for only a handful of coppers isn’t worth my time.”

  “Are you doubting my eyes?” The one wearing a bandana and a mask sounded offended by his companion’s remark. “I saw her use them to pay the baker in the shopping street.”

  “Alright kiddo. Just hand over the coins and we won’t have to hurt you or the hag.” The last one had long greasy black hair and a disgusting beard that hasn’t been washed in weeks. “Unless you want to try your luck–”

  Priscilla quietly readied her rapier as she heard footsteps coming closer to the two. The nun clasped her hands as she kneeled and begged.

  “Please don’t hurt us… we barely have anything to give to you…”

  “Shut up!” The masked thug shouted as he approached. “I know this kid was carrying gold! With that much coin we won’t need to live in this cesspit of hobos! Now give us the coin!”

  Rionara let go of the bag of food and stood in front of the sister with a shiv she pulled out from under her cloak.

  “Get away from us!”

  Once the thug was a step away from brandishing his blade—Priscilla sprung and with a swift swing of her rapier, she cut part of the man’s wrist, making him drop the weapon. The other two were surprised by the spell fencer’s presence and took a few steps back as their friend screamed from pain as his blood tainted and permeated through the wooden floor.

  “Aaaargh! My wrist!”

  The royal knight’s entrance surprised Rionara—that only now acknowledged her presence.

  “Step away now if you value your lives.” She folded her right arm inwards and pointed the tip of the blade at her enemies while tucking her left arm slightly behind her back. “I will not hold back.”

  “There is only one of her!” The cut thug screamed. “Kill her!”

  The large thug charged in while wildly swinging the hatchet.

  ‘Tsk… uncouth pig!’

  She sidestepped to the left and thrusted at his fingers, cutting three of them in the process which forced him to drop the weapon.

  “AAARGH!”

  Despite the pain, he continued to charge and tried to punch her face but Priscilla was faster and ducked beneath his arm while cutting through his left thigh which made him crash into one of the pews—smashing it into pieces.

  The greasy thug attempted to get close enough to stab her but instead was met with the round guard of her blade against his face.

  “Augh!”

  She then followed up with the pommel to the side of his head which knocked him out cold.

  Rionara was awestruck, she heard stories about knights and how gallantly they saved those who couldn’t defend themselves but Priscilla’s skills were simply captivating in her eyes. Despite the gritty and dark church, her bladework emanated a certain beauty the teenage girl couldn’t quite put her finger on. However her thoughts were cut short as an arm wrapped around her throat.

  “Stop! Or the kid gets it!”

  The thug who had his right wrist cut was using his arm to hold Rionara hostage while holding the dagger with his left hand. Priscilla turned around and clenched her teeth.

  ‘Tsk. I was too focused in subduing the other two I didn’t pay attention to that one–’

  She took a measured step forward and his blade came even closer to the girl’s face.

  “Didn’t you hear me?! I’ll kill her if you get any closer.”

  “Oh, I don’t think you will.”

  “Wha–” At that moment, the nun grabbed his left arm. “Let go of me you hag!”

  However, given her frail body, he easily shook her off as she fell on the floor.

  “Ugh!”

  As he turned around to face the spell fencer, she was already up in his personal space. She ran her rapier through his left joint while grabbing his right hand—freeing Rionara from his grasp.

  “AAAAAAAAAARGH! NO! I WON’T– I WON’T LET SOME STUPID WOMAN GET IN MY WAY!”

  While he could physically overpower her, there was one thing he didn’t account for.

  “Stay! Down!”

  She kicked him between the legs and when he tumbled backwards, she used her own weight to push the rapier down through the wooden floor, pinning him there. While he squirmed in pain, she made sure to get the weapons and hold onto them while she quickly helped the nun up.

  “Here, Sister. Take my hand.”

  “T-thank you dear.”

  She nodded before turning to the girl.

  “Rionara. Get Sister out of here and call the guardsmen, I’ll stay here to keep an eye out on these worms.”

  “R-right.”

  As they both got out of the church, Priscilla sighed heavily.

  “Not even a day has passed and I already got myself in trouble…” She held her head low while still groaning under her breath. “If the Goddess truly exists I hope this doesn’t reach either Lord Leonnard or Dame Phoebe… ugh…”

  “You damn swordswoman! Get this blade out of my arm!”

  “Argh, shut up stupid.” She picked a piece of broken pew and threw it against his head, knocking him out. “Thanks to you clown circus trio I’ll have to deal with guardsmen of another kingdom.”

  She pinched her nose ridge and tiredly blinked a few times.

  “I’m one of the Knight’s Trio… I shouldn’t get myself involved in these matters…”

  The moment she muttered to herself she started to remember her mentor’s words.

  “Listen well, Priscilla. We may be Arcadia’s finest, but we must uphold our oath. We protect those who cannot protect themselves so that one day, they may do the same for someone else in need.”

  She clenched her hand into a fist and brought it close to her breast.

  “My Queen…”