Estella sincerely wished the king had married her young tutor. Gisela would have made a model queen. Now, wearing all black, she resembled an elegant widow.
A chorus of eerie voices echoed from behind the door again. With Gisela’s departure they revolted. The cacophony of shrieking, growling, and squeaking grew stronger and stronger.
“Let us out! You don’t need the key! Just let us out!”
Estella ran her finger over the six-winged angel and burned herself again.
“I can’t,” she moaned.
“Open up, you fool!” Behind the door, they obviously thought she was faking.
“You say fool!” She was indignant. “Well, stay there!”
Estella was so furious that she walked briskly away. Her yellow-gold skirts rustled softly, and her auburn curls, intertwined in the summer, tickled her neck. And behind her, it was as if someone was breathing fire. Estella glanced behind her to see if the dragon was following her out of the treasury.
“Come back here!” The voices called out, exchanging anger for kindness. “Let us make peace! You want a dragon, we’ll give you one! You want a prince. We’ll bring him to you! And you want a faithful genie, and we’ll send one to your service!”
“And what is it in return?” Estella couldn’t stand it.
“Just let us go!” The voices repeated the same request. The golden door glowed with a sort of unnatural, magical radiance, as if beckoning to her. Behind it was hidden not only treasure, but living creatures as well. Estella was not so foolish as not to understand it. But how could they live there without food and drink? After all, the treasury had not been unlocked for decades. The king used to drop the gold he brought back from his marches into the treasury through a crack in the manticore’s mouth on the door. Now, it seemed, a claw had come through the crack.
Estella was frightened. The treasury was almost empty, and it was scary to enter the secret treasury because of the demons that lived there. What should we do?
“Let us out!” A piteous plea was heard.
Estella could not do it. For one thing she was afraid, and for another she had no key. She would have to think how to save the state without money. But she was not good at thinking. It was not for nothing that she was nicknamed a simpleton.
Who Stole the Princess’ Mind?
Outside the windows was a tournament. Estella watched from her high balcony. The aim of the contestants was to identify the sorcerer who had stolen the princess’s mind, and the reward was to be the princess’s hand.
Gisela had already warned her about the dowry hunters, so Estella watched indifferently. She didn’t believe that anyone could propose to her. Normally suitors scattered from her like mice from a kitten. All the ambassadors and distinguished overseas guests admired her from afar, but after the first dialogue it was clear that they disliked the princess.
“You are a child,” Gisela consoled her when the princess was sixteen years old. “As soon as you grow older, wiser, the matchmakers will come back. After all, their princes want to take as a wife a mature and wise beauty. She can help in the government of the country.”
Three years have passed since then. Estella is nineteen and no more desirable to suitors.
It was a pity that in Aluar a woman’s age was determined by her mind. Estella was treated like a naughty child. But Gisela, who was twelve years older than her apprentice, was considered quite ripe for marriage. She was inundated with marriage proposals. Alas, all the applicants for her hand were not kings, so she rejected them all.
“The advantageous place is only next to the throne,” she often repeated, taking Estella to etiquette lessons.
Estella often spilled tea on her dress, but Gisela neither scolded her nor mocked her for it.
“Try it again!” She allowed it, instead of laughing at the silly princess like the others.
Gisela studied the family legends of the Aluar’s dynasty carefully, too, because she wanted to captivate the king with her erudition.
“They say King Abraham was married to a star fairy, maybe that’s why you’re not smart enough,” she once remarked while reading another almanac. “Fairies’ children are either ugly or empty-headed.”
“Only they must have some sort of magical talent.”
“How do you know?”
Estella frowned.
“I don’t remember.”
“I must have heard the maid’s stories.”
Gisela began to study the Kings’ Almanac further.
“There seems to be a lot of fairy tales in here instead of truth,” she concluded. “Your Uncle King Clement, who disappeared so abruptly after his coronation, was supposedly married to a sorceress who could turn into a dragon.”
“Is it in a dragon?” Estella wondered. For some reason dragons had fascinated her more than handsome princes and suitors lately.”
“Yes! There she was. Queen Raymonda. For some reason, she’s considered both a wood elf and a dragon. It says here that she burned half the capital. Then she and her husband both disappeared. Aluar was without king and queen, so your father was invited to the throne. He was King Clement’s uncle. So I don’t know exactly who King Clement is to you. Let’s just call him your uncle.”
“It is all right! He’s my uncle,” Estella repeated bluntly. “Is he still alive?”
“I don’t think so! The dragon-wife most likely burned him and then burst out into the wild. He must have kept her with him by some sort of magical spell. Your father also seemed to know how to cast spells: he could make crops ripen earlier, he could call down rain on withered land, and he could send away enemy troops without even starting a battle or surrendering. One conversation with the enemy and they would leave, forgetting about the war. That’s why your father was so beloved by the people. He was the perfect king.”
“Just don’t call him a sorcerer. Sorcerers are feared and hated.”
“I didn’t say he was a sorcerer. He just had some kind of magical gift,” Gisela slammed the almanac shut.
“I don’t want him to pay for it with my mind,” Estella sighed.
“Oh, that’s all right. You’re pretty enough without a mind. Just don’t spill wine on your dress. You can see the scarlet drops on the pale silk.”
“So what is of it?” Estella thought they were just specks of purple.
“It’s not clean!”
“I think it’s beautiful. There are a lot of stars in the sky, and the wine makes my dress sparkle scarlet.”
Gisela sighed wearily.
“It is quite original, but not practical,” she muttered to herself.
“Does
