The dwarf left and the queen began to weep once again. Her tears fell on the child, wetting his cherub features, as she cradled him to her bosom. But no matter how hard she wept, no one else appeared to help her now.

After her tears ran dry at last, she lowered her child into his cradle. She straightened with a regal manner. "How difficult must it be to find out the name of a mere commoner?" she wondered out loud. But she knew the man was no mere commoner. And she knew that these three days might be the last she will ever spend with her beautiful child.

The queen set off to find the old wizard of the castle. He must be able to help. But as she opened the door, she saw a flash disappearing around the corner.

"Halt!"

she commanded. And yet, it was too late. The eavesdropper hiding was long gone when she caught up to the corner. And the queen was left with a sense of dread that someone else now knew of her fatal secret.

But as fate would have it, a young man slunk in front of the queen. Lowering onto one knee, he greeted her, "Your Majesty."

"Who are you?" she asked, gazing down at the boy in a worn tunic, patched pants and scuffed boots.

"Your Majesty, I merely am one of the messengers. But I can help thee." He looked up at that and the queen gasped.

Whether due to the indecency of his actions, the fact that he knew of her crisis, or because of the brightness of his eyes, she didn't know. But she held the stare and nodded. "Tell me, then, how you shall help."