Her tent is a palace built of bright wool of many animals. Warmer and better than the air outside. On the comfy bed she is laying on the bear skin with quite confidence, eating fresh and rosy grapes that sparkle like crystals. In front of her the penurious young priest of the fallen cleric stands. He is holding his hands together because they shake too much. But his bones shake through his entire body and he hardly can keep it still. "If you fall, I will feed you to fishes." She says. Fright and despair thrust in his body like a thousand needles. Breathing is all thatís eligible to do in the presence of her highness. "Youíre a religious man. You should not be afraid of anything with the god that hears your prayers." She says and consumes from the fruits. She believes in nothing and nothing can make her believe. Like a queen and more than that, if only she was omnipotent enough would call herself a god. "Tell me, priest... or whatever your religion rank might be; whatís the divine decree for a man who abandons her bride?" She asks him. But the poor priest does not answer. He either doesnít know or too much stress has gotten his tongue stuck. "Donít you really know? Maybe you are shying away?" She says then sits and looks at him with a curious glare. "What if I order my knights to rip the clothes off of you and kick you back into your city with bare skin? What they would think of me if I do that, I wonder." She says. The young priest just falls to her knees and cries, "please, mercy." She disappointedly snorts and disgustedly throws a handful of grapes at him. "Filth. Go and shed your craps somewhere else." She says and lays back that the commander just comes in. He lifts his chest and stands staid in front of the princess to announce something important. "My lady, the prince is on the walls. He wants to talk with you." He says. "Letís hope he is coming down. Otherwise I will cut your head and send it to him with a catapult." Says the princess to the priest and gets out of her tent. She comes to the walls where the prince is waiting. She looks up to him with an upset face. "I was thinking, how would you like a painting of blood and body matters on your castle's wall? Because I was a moment away from hurling the priest on a catapult." She says. "That is not necessary. I will come down to you." He calls down from the walls. She wonders how easy he said that. Somewhere in his voice a thing stumbled. "Well, whatís keeping you so long? Come down now and let us solve this before the dawn." She doubtfully asks him. "You have to give me some time. I am the prince and the future king of the Bronze kingdom. I must manage a few things." He says. If she doubted now she carves some certitude out of his words that he is up to some trick. "I give you tonight. You will open this gate and come to me with your bride at tomorrow's dawn. When sun rises above the mountain, I will burn this city alive." She says strictly and turns her back on him with such a selfishness. He watches as she gets back to her tent, then says with the soldier on the wall beside him. "Look carefully. If you havenít seen the devil just yet, then this is your chance. Thatís real devil in the frame of a woman." The soldier glances down as his lord asks. Despite of the beauty and grace thatís covered on her, all he can see is but an evil being. "My lord, do you think the witch will come?" He asks the prince. "We can only hope." He responds with a rather heart-chilling answer.
Nocturnal sounds come from all sides of the field and beyond. Creatures of the night sing and follow the rhythm of the night. In the crystalline army base noises of men around fires canít let them be heard. They drink and play music. Their laughter spreads in the air and reaches over the walls. Laughters that creep people more than a wail in the night could be scary. The princess is sleeping on her comfortable woolly bed. The poor priest is still in her tent. No courage to sit. He doesnít even dare to scratch his itch. The princess is dreaming too deep. Yet he fears to make a sound and wake her up. So that he wonít be able to see tomorrowís sunrise. All of a sudden the cover of the tent draws away and someone gets in. The priest turns to see. Someone in a red robe has entered. He does not know this person but something about it makes his muscles creep. The mysterious figure inches in and turns slightly her head towards him. Two sockets of reddish glowing are the first things he realizes. She puts a finger to her lips and shushes him gently. He faints at once. She minds him not and gets on the princess in her bed. Her steps are quieter than the air. She stands upon the princess and draws her knife. The sparkle of steel shines with the poor sign of light. There are more than enough voices and sounds that any quiet scream will lost in them. However, she doesnít have to worry that. She knows how to stab her knife quickly and directly to avoid any voices to rise from her victim. So she lifts her knife and aims for the middle of her chest.