Chapter III

High in a tower of the Royal Palace of Bellen, Jonathan lay on a soft feather-bed, pondering all that had transpired during the course of that day. When he first saw that the guards were attacking the princess, he was shocked! When he saw one of them strike her, he realized that his duty, like that of any citizen of Bellen, was to protect the heir to the throne at all costs. He fought his way through the crowds and ran to the princess. The traitorous guards didn't notice him, as they were focused on their prey. He sneaked up behind them and bashed their heads together, knocking them both out.

Jonathan was not prepared for the sight before him. He then faced the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He had indeed heard of the princess' beauty, and how it was said to surpass that of any woman who had ever lived, but he had never really believed it. After all, every princess, no matter how plain and homely, is always said to be beautiful. It wasn't deception with her, though; she truly lived up to her reputation. Even with blood and dirt on her face, clutching her knife, her hair coming our of its bun, and distrust written in her eyes, she was truly radiant. He had never seen anyone like this woman, this woman who would one day rule all of Bellen.

Princess Iris was eying him sceptically, when he heard the heavy footsteps of guards coming up behind him. It was then that it struck him,
--Who am I to approach Her Majesty, Princess Iris Abigail, heir to the throne of Bellen?--
He dropped to his knees in fear. After all, he could easily be banished or beheaded, for such a crime as to *stand* before a member of the royal family. He knew he must say something, but what to say? He said the only thing he could think of.

"Happy Birthday, your Highness," he said breathlessly, knowing that things really couldn't get much worse. One of the guards asked him what his name was, and he told the man, though he didn't understand why anyone would want to know, if he was going to be banished or killed anyway. He glanced up to see that the king had turned around and come to where they were, followed closely by his advisers and attendants, and was speaking to one of the guards, while the princess kneeled beside one of her maids. The king then turned to consult with one of his advisers. After a moment, he turned to Jonathan, brought him to his feet, and turned to the crowds.

"This young man, Jonathan of Cavelnar, has saved the life of my daughter, the princess!" the king announced, "He is to be honored by all!" As the people began to chant his name, the guards lifted him on their shoulders. He watched as the princess refused to ride in her litter and insisted that her maid, who was unconscious, be carried in it, while she rode with her father. When the royal party was sufficiently ready, they all headed off toward the palace.

As the guards carried him with the party to the palace, Jonathan allowed his mind to wander. He hoped that he would not be too sorely missed at Sir Steven's stables, but thoughts of such mundane things soon gave way to grander contemplations. He wondered what would happen to him once they reached the palace. He was now certain that he was not to be banished, as the king had allayed all his fears with his speech. What did they want with him, then? It was a conundrum to him.

As they rounded a curve in the road, Jonathan was stunned by the sight before him. He had indeed heard of how the the great Bellenar Palace was built into the side of Mt. Bellenar, but he was unprepared for the majesty of the sight of such an architectural masterpiece. The grand palace looked as though it could have really been part of the mountain. Its towers climbed high into the sky, and the deep, wide mote circled the whole mountain. The only way into or out of the palace grounds was through the great drawbridge at the very front of the surrounding walls, which had been opened to grant them entrance. It was a sight to behold.

When they entered the palace grounds, the guards put him down, and the drawbridge was shut. He watched as the king and the princess dismounted and went with their attendants into the palace proper, leaving him confused and feeling very alone. People were bustling here and there, and no one seemed to know that he existed. What was he supposed to do, anyway? He sat in the courtyard and waited.

After a time, Jonathan noticed a young girl, who looked to be about eight years old, watching him curiously. She was a short, skinny girl with long, frizzy red hair, and big, brown, puppy-dog eyes. He watched her out of the corner of his eye for a few moments. She seemed to be contemplating whether or not to approach him. He gave her a small wave, hoping to reassure her. Upon seeing this, she came up to him and timidly asked, with a heavy lisp, "Are you Jonathan, the one who saved the princess?"

"I guess that's me," he answered uncertainly.

"Really? You beat those big, tough guards?" she asked with awe.

"Oh yes," he replied, amused by the child, "I just walked up to them and bashed their heads together!"

"Wow! Well, I'm Lydia. The princess sent me," she said, "You're to come with me. I'll show you where you can rest," she grinned, revealing that she had lost her two front teeth.

"All right, lead the way," he replied as he got up and followed Lydia into the palace. She led him through many hallways and up a spiral staircase, chattering the whole way. She finally paused a a door. She opened it and ushered him into the room. It seemed to be a small bedchamber. Lying on the bed to his right was a fine new set of clothes for him. There was a fireplace on the left wall, a small table and chair straight ahead beneath a small window, which faced to the west, and a bathtub in the center of the room, already filled with hot water.

"You should get all cleaned up for the big birthday banquet tonight. You're a mess! I'll be back later to check on you," she said with a wink. With that, she left him alone again.

Now here he was, a guest in the royal palace! It seemed too good to be true. Just this morning, all he could think of was that he didn't have to work in Sir Steven's foul stables all day! How altered one's situation may be in the course of a morning. Of course, it was closer to noon now.

It occurred to him that he should probably do as Lydia had bid him, and he bathed and dressed in the attire provided for him. While it was not half so rich as what some of the nobles in the parade had been wearing, it was the nicest thing Jonathan had ever been allowed to don. He was dressed in dark blues and greens that suited him precisely.

He sat back on the bed, filled with sudden wonder at how lucky he was. Of all the people watching the parade that morning, he had been the only one to stand in loyalty to his monarch. What were the chances of being that one person? He lay back on the bed, suddenly feeling abnormally fatigued. After all the excitement of the day, Jonathan fell into a deep sleep.