Missy’s eyes shined with the impatience of telling someone's else personal story, and the princesses’ eyes sparkled with the impatience to hear it.

Girls will always be girls! thought the spy.

“Once upon a time, in d’Ornia,” begun Missy, “there was a young master-of-arms, descending from a long line of warriors and masters-of arms. His family greatsword, the Walkurie, was a gift given to one of his ancestors by the First King of Ohst. Even if our hero was only twenty years old, his reputation of invincibility was already well established. One day, a noble from a powerful family visited him and demanded to spare together, he was full of jealousy and had prepared one year with the best foreign fencers, aiming to beat our young master-of arms.”

“She’s talking about Diago,” whispered Istainn in Lau’s ear.

“I never would have guessed,” replied the archer, rolling his eyes.”Boss, I’m not an idiot, seriously!”

“Sorry,” said the spy, and the girls shushed him immediately.

“The sparing went badly for the noble. Diago, because yes, I am talking about him, didn’t receive any hits, while the other was hit ten times. Furious, the noble asked for a rematch and insulted him badly. I cannot reproduce the words, but mother and reproduction were among them. Diago threw his weapon and beat him using only his hands and feet. In slaps on and kicks in the butt, he threw him out of his dojo.”

“Better if he’d killed him,” considered Lau.

“Indeed. That night, the noble sent assassins after him. Twenty men. They put fire to his dojo and assaulted him, yet, Diago managed to kill them all. Can you imagine? He killed twenty opponents by himself. He was badly hurt, though, bleeding out on a small street when pa found him. As large as you see Diago is, pa carried him on his back to our home. Truth is, it was just a few houses away, on our back alley, but still. Our family doctor took care of his wounds, and he was saved. Diago was thirsty for revenge, but unfortunately, during the month he had laid in bed, the king died, and that noble had attracted enough votes to become our new king. He’s our sworn enemy, the political rival of pa, he appointed him Ambassador to keep him away. But let's return to our story. Revenge had to wait; the new king had too many powerful people on its side; thus, Diago changed his name, hid, and served my father as a trusted assistant. He delivered sensitive packages, freed people from captivity, fought in duels, masked and under his false name, trained our soldiers, and many other useful things. He is a brave and honorable man. I’ll tell you just one thing that proves it: when I was sixteen, I had this terrible crush on him, I literally jumped in his arms…”

“Hm, interesting,” said Feyra, looking with intent at her sister. “And I suppose he didn’t take advantage of you…”

“No,” replied Missy, a little sad. “He just told me that he loves me as a sister and pa like an older brother and that if I go on that path, he’ll just commit suicide because he was not going to disgrace the family of his savior. That… cleared my head instantly.”

“Hm, interesting,” repeated Feyra, again looking with intent at her sister. “A most honorable man.”

“Yes, isn’t he?” answered Missy. “Anyway, pa and Diago have a plan, one they didn’t manage to put in practice yet. Diago is supposed to reveal his true identity and provoke the king to judgment by duel. No d’Ornian noble can refuse a judicial duel without shaming himself. Until now, the conditions were never good; the King still had the majority of the Parliament on his side, which meant that even if we’d beat his champions - because everyone can fight directly or by representatives - we could not take him out of the picture. But now, with Ohst’s army at the gates, many royal supporters had changed their minds, they supported him before because he represented their interests, but they do not support the idea of a hereditary monarchy. This is the perfect moment. Diago went out to register his provocation at the Tribunal, and to check on his former fiancée, she thinks he’s dead, you know. He didn’t want to drag her into a life of danger, and he hoped that she’d met another man and marry. Yet, she didn’t. Despite how hard her parents tried to marry her with a lot of guys…”

“Old but rich?” asked Heyra interested.

“No, absolutely normal guys. She’s a little on the snob side, sees herself well above the commoners, not that she’s a noble, mind that, but she works for many noble families. She has a bakery; those cakes and cookies you’ve eaten are from her place.”

“Shvery goodsh,” admitted Lau, who was eating the last stray cookie from the tray as she spoke, to the spy dismay.

“So, now you know Diago’s story,” concluded Missy.

A long awkward silence ensued. Heyra was deep in thoughts. Istaìnn wanted to say things, but things were hard to say. He didn't want to look to informed on her crush on Diago, neither make his friend look bad because he pitied him. On the other hand, he didn’t want to show his interest in her too soon, but looking too disinterested wasn’t a good option either. In the end, he said nothing because the risks were too high, and that made him sulk with puckered lips. Feyra and Missy were likewise absent-minded, and just by the waves of frowns on their foreheads and their expressions, the spy could guess what they were thinking about. Frowning with clenched teeth: the princesses were thinking at the plot; frown with an uncomfortable smile: Missy was regretting revealing her teenage crush on Diago; an upward frown plus sad eyes, Heyra was lamenting her passion on Diago; slight frown with pitiful lips: Feyra empathizing with her sister. Lau was the only one carefree; he had fallen asleep on the couch, his stomach filled with good food. He was snoring blissfully, a little rivulet of saliva dropping from the right corner of his mouth.

This uncomfortable situation held at least one hour. The spy considered leaving, but it would have seemed cold and detached. Probably the same thoughts had crossed Missy’s mind too, ‘cause she looked annoyed. So the first counted the wallpaper's stripes on all the walls, ten times, while the girl examined her spotless fingernails twentyfold. The torture ended with the Ambassador returning. He briskly entered the room and spoke swiftly.

“I found Diago at her house. They were a mess. She was shocked, cried, hugged him, slapped him, fainted or pretended to faint, and all the above all over again. I arrived just in between a scene and pulled all my diplomatic repertoire to even make her consider the idea of taking him back. Now they are in the lobby. I’ve asked them to wait one minute, pretending I have some secret state business to say to the princesses. The worse part is that Diago is distressed, and tomorrow he’s fighting… By the way, the duel has been accepted. I took care to send the provocation and the motif to all evening newspapers. Now that the cat is out of the box, we must be bold, take the initiative, and show firmness…”

In those words, Diago and his beloved muse entered. The woman, in her late twenties, was a plump blonde. Not very tall, with quite a shapely figure, but overall plain looks.

“Allow me to present you Veea, my… fiancée…” said Diago, a little unsure about his fiancée quality.

Hello, what a lovely dress, your cookies are fantastic, and all sorts of babbles were exchanged. The princesses and Missy were doing their best to make Veea comfortable because she most certainly wasn’t. In the end, Diago and Veea retreated on a faraway window seat, talking vehemently, but in a low voice.

Please, my love, no, please, I don’t know, and so on, and so on. He was begging her to take him back, and she looked quite reserved.

“Ten years…,” whispered Istaìnn to Lau.

“Pfiu, pfiu” whistled the archer silently, making a round gesture with his index next to his temple.

A folly, all this was folly, Diago had held himself stuck in a dream for ten years. Istaìnn nodded to Lau, with a pitiful grimace on his face. His heart jumped suddenly because Heyra had noticed their gestures, and her shoulders sagged, showing the pain in her heart. Their eyes met, and for a second, despite his will, his eyes pitied her, and she saw, and she knew he knew. Feyra, seeing all, put a hand over her sister's hand, trying to console her.

The Princess of the Left, the Princess of the Heart, took an in-depth brief and did something unexpected. She raised, took a crystal glass, and hit it with a teaspoon.

“Your attention, please. I have an announcement. During our trip, I learned about Diago’s love. He was confessing his unending love for miss Veea, here present, every day, in his… passionate poetry. I want to reward his dedication to the Royal house with a small gesture of friendship. With my power as a Royal, I will marry these two poor hearts here and now. Let your sufferance cease. Diago, Veea, allow me to be your civil officer tonight.”

The Ambassador jumped on the occasion.

“Splendid! What an honor! You’ll be married by a princess, you lucky lovebirds! Me and Mister Spy will be the witnesses, while our friend Lau and my daughter are the best man and best lady. Her highness Feyra will be the notary, she will write a document attesting this, and we’ll all sign it.”

The couple didn’t have the slightest chance to object. Ensued some quick “do you?”, “his “I do!” and hers “I do?”, an “I pronounce you…”, and the trick was done.

“Perfect!” exclaimed the Ambassador, fiddling his hands with joy. “I will instruct the servants to prepare a guest room for you two. Maybe it’s best to eat dinner in our rooms, we’re all exhausted. Go, my friends, go!” he shoved out of the room the newlyweds, exiting too, to give orders to the help.

“Goodness, that was a brilliant inspiration, Heyra!” said Missy. “I’ll go check the kitchen; I will select some delicacies for those two and some wine to predispose them to romantic endeavors.”

“I’ll come help,” said Feyra.

“At least now, no more poetry,” sighed Lau, whispering to Istaìnn.

“May Providence hear you!” he whispered back.

Meanwhile, Heyra had left the room without any word. Something made Istaìnn rush on her tracks; she was in front of her room when he caught up with her.

“Heyra?” he called, stopping in front of her like an embarrassed schoolboy.

“Yes?”

“I…” he started timidly. “I wanted to say… what you did, back there… was… really noble. You are… a real Queen... … I’m so grateful that Providence made our path cross… I would not change that for the world,” he finished his sentence in a rush and with a blush.

She stared directly into his eyes. For the first time, she saw the hints of what he felt about her. Smiling, she raised on her toes, kissed him on the cheek, near the corner of his mouth, then went into her room.