A little boy... If only she knew how many adult decisions I'd had to make in those four years, how many adult disappointments I'd endured. Age isn't measured in years, but in experience.
In that sweet moment of life, I already imagined myself grown-up. In truth, I remained a child—fragile, vulnerable, like an unhardened sprout in the wind. Fate decreed otherwise: I had to endure harsh trainings too heavy for a young heart. Every morning met not with tenderness, but trial, and in those trials, childhood slipped away like water through fingers.
"You're right! But Ser Leont de Mortvel called me a real knight. I want to follow his words and go only forward. That's why I call myself a little knight."
Ser Leont... A man whose opinion meant more than the approval of the entire royal court. His words became a compass in a world where it's easy to lose direction.
Eley laughed—that pure laugh I remembered from childhood. The sound was a melody I hadn't heard in ages, but the heart remembers every note. Laughter like a bell's chime spread through the garden.
"Eley, what in my words made you laugh?" I asked, and in that moment, "you" sounded almost natural—like a bridge between formality and closeness.
"Loyn, my dear friend..." In those words was so much warmth that my heart forgot its defenses for an instant. "Do as you think best, but from my side... I prefer when we talk informally."
My dear friend. Three simple words capable of turning one's inner world upside down. Friendship—it's a form of love too, just more honest, less demanding. In friendship, there's no destructive passion turning people into slaves of their feelings, but there is constancy, loyalty, what they call tenderness without obligations.
I stood looking at her, thoughts whirling in my head, each more fanciful than the last. My vases melted like dreams of myself. Maybe that's life's truth? Everything we create eventually vanishes, but while it exists—it's beautiful.
The moment of our reunion was broken by Leza's appearance—the princess's personal maid. A sixteen-year-old girl from a line that had served the royal dynasty for centuries. Her face held a special pride belonging to those whose lives have clear purpose and direction. Sometimes I envied such people—their fate is predetermined; no need to agonize over choices, to search for one's place in the world. They know it from birth.
"Princess, it's time for bed," Leza said in a tone both respectful and unyielding.