The wind was soft and warm, running alongside the eager children on the hill. Older villagers appeared more slowly over the rise, drawn by the music and the cries.

“His highness, Prince Siegfried, and the Princess Rue!”

Though the procession had yet to come into the village proper, Siegfried held up a hand at the sight of the crowd, halting them. Only the instruments continued the celebratory march, taking their tune to its final lifting note. The prince hopped delicately onto the grass from the feather-plumed carriage, and offered his princess a smile and an inviting hand. She grasped the latter firmly, and joined him in a quiet rush of silk.

“Are you ready, my princess?” He whispered to her, and though she could not take her eyes from the villagers, she could hear his tender smile beside her. She inspected at the ground from under her lids to conceal a flash of self-consciousness. Her own smile would have seemed testy to anyone else, but Siegfried could see the nervous edge at its core. Any impatience she had was directed at herself. He ran a hand swiftly through her hair.

She glanced up at him at last. “I suppose. They look... so happy, don't they?”

“And you will make them more so,” he promised, and led her forward. He stood and waved grandly before the hill. The assembly ceased chattering excitedly, even the littlest ones, and the line of people lowered in a flurry of bows and curtsies at their prince's approach. He released Rue's hand, and caught her eye, instead. She curtsied in unison with his elegant bow; a splendid noble pair blossoming in sweeping fabrics and a sudden flare of cheering.