A single road plowed through the village. This road carried news, letters, gossip, friends, family, and—at least that day—two wanderers. One was older than the other, and they kept to the side of the road as they passed through, neither going further in nor wholly leaving it.
The older man was a middling person: middling height and build, plain, middling sort of features, and probably middle-aged. He attracted no attention, but the younger stood out.
He was not very young, not an adolescent. He had hair of pale brown and a beard that was either newly trimmed or, more likely, merely new. The short beard, new though it might be,  made him seem older than anything else on him did. His features, though clear-cut and well-defined, were unlined, fair, and soft. The eyes of that handsome face were light green and glided over his surroundings like birds, always aware. But once they had passed over, lacking what they sought, they did not return to any former perch. They were a wanderer’s eyes.
The green-eyed, fair-haired man was walking fast as if to continue from the place, but the faint sound of jingling arrested him.
A procession of horses kicked up dust. No—as it got closer, the two strangers could see there was only one horse, with a single white donkey behind it. Mounted on the horse was a giant of a man, all brawn and ferocity, scowling in a ghastly manner at the passerby.
What a contrast was the sylph rider of the donkey! She rode side-saddle, , clad in a long dress of misty grey that draped over her tiny body as if to drown the glint of silver bells on the harness of her white steed. The gown mingled with a black cape, the collar of which hid half her face. The rest of her face was covered by a grey veil, and her head bowed as if with grief.
Presently a gust blew the veil and cloak back, and they saw that this girl seemed no older than ten—she was constructed like a pixie. Her face was pale and tired, but cold of expression, and her eyes had a hollowness that was life yet charged. A soul was behind them, however frozen it might be. Before the veil settled again, they saw plaited hair, golden as wheat, twisted into a bun.
The girl noticed the wayside villagers and gently pulled her beast to a halt. Though she said nothing, the muscular man did likewise, eyeing them suspiciously. Finally he removed his stare and gave the girl a crisp nod.
Facing the crowd, she carefully lifted her veil and arranged it so that her face could be seen. She gestured without ceremony, yet with grace and sad dignity. Under a delicate and beautiful face, a black ribbon closely tied a blood-red jewel to her white throat.
The villagers recognized her with hushed ohs and whispers as they began to bow, curtsy, and dip their heads with great care. The middling wanderer caught on and touched his hand to his forehead in deference, but the young-seeming girl transfixed the younger. His eyes riveted to her.
Before he was aware of it, her companion bore upon him. “Show respect for your queen!” he bellowed, beating the much-startled, -weaker man to ground.
The middling wanderer reacted with distress. “Good sir, please,” he cried. “We are guests in your land!”
Still the huge man stood over the green-eyed one, ready to strike him if he so much as twitched. The fellow traveler turned to the guard’s mistress, begging her with his eyes. He began, but did not finish, “Your Highness—”
The girl surveyed them with cool eyes, but soon dropped into the dust beside the young man. She touched his shoulder, and he looked her in the eye and nodded slightly in respect.
“Enough, Iwan.” The girl nodded to the big man. Her voice was weary but clarion, sounding far older than she looked; it was distant, but its compassion spoke volumes.
She drew the grey veil over her face and mounted again. “Ride on, Iwan,” she said, her voice clipped.
“Yes, my lady,” said the powerful man, his voice remarkably subdued.
As the bells on the donkey’s harness began to jingle again, the middling man turned to the younger, helped him to stand, and brushed down his shoulders. “What do you think of that, Your Excellency?” he asked.
With keen, quizzical eyes, the one addressed watched the girl-queen go off, and said nothing…