Roxanne was ordered to leave the council hall, and she complied, crouching in an elegant curtsy. A skirt is a fold to a fold, a high hairstyle a hair to a hair, a delicate fragrance of perfume is heard except in a step from it. So close no one dares to come. The face of the princess is serene, the movements are smooth and graceful.

As she bows to her father, a general sigh is heard from behind. Slowly looking around, the princess sees him.

The prisoner stands in shackles, chains shackle his arms, legs and neck. It is dirty, the bristles cover the lower part of the face, torn clothing does not hide a large, strong body, abrasions and bruises on it. Smells from him accordingly. He examines them all, stops his eyes on Roxane, from which she feels a vague fear. Absolutely nothing to fear, they hold him tight. On the face of the princess of peace, fear only in thoughts.

“And these people dare threaten us?”

Father sat on the throne, towering over those present. Prisoner dragged forward. Roxana was not supposed to be here at all, and she was face to face with a savage.

“You do not know which side to take up the sword,” there was no fear in the voice with a hint of roar, “you are afraid of death, you are even afraid of getting dirty.” We will capture your cities, and your women will bear us children.

Roxana slightly curled her lips in a contemptuous grimace. He turned to her, pulling his guards like puppies on a leash:

- I'll be back for you on purpose. You will be my personal slave.

Her bright gray-blue eyes met his unexpectedly blue.

“Give him a whip for impudence,” said the princess, turning away indifferently and leaving the hall.

The fact that he killed the jailers, and ran away, she learned soon.

She did not remember him for half a year. Her father picked up her fiance, and Roxana began to prepare for the wedding, as an obedient daughter. Then suddenly I had to admit that the victorious war, which was supposed to bring new fertile lands, slaves, and glory for the prince, is not so victorious as it should have been. Hordes of savages on the outskirts are actually an army, they are angry at the invasion. They do not make separate raids, they systematically go forward. They kill, burn, rape, destroy cities.

Until now, the only thing that the war touched her personally was that the groom could not come to the palace for the wedding, having been afraid to travel in such a hectic time. Roxanne was not upset delay. And then the barbarians approached the capital, and the king with his son went to a protected fortress city. The princess asked with him - what was she to do alone, with half the court, in the deserted capital? The king said that the fortress is too rude, there are no amenities necessary for the royal family, and in general it is not appropriate for her to be in the company of men sent to occupy the fortress. She, like a princess, a woman from the royal family, does not threaten anything special. The knight will not offend her, will take care of that she was arranged in accordance with propriety and comfort. And Roxana remained in the palace under the protection of civilized ideas about the war.

Father wrote about losses as something insignificant. The young commander - the son of the king, therefore a man, of course, of great merit and intelligence - will easily win the war.

Rumors went others. The son of the king preferred to spend time with whores instead of military councils. He is praised, but this is as long as food and water restrictions apply only to ordinary residents. As soon as they have to say to these pompous licsoids that they will have to give up delicious food, the habits of throwing out dishes, having barely tasted it, and daily washing will start riots. It is then that they immediately recall the oppressed people, who must elect a new ruler.

Roxana listened to the conversations of the servants who were in the city, quietly, so that they would not be remembered and would not be silent.Otherwise, she would not even know what was going on - a woman, especially a young and unmarried, was supposed to sit in her chambers and embroider a banner. The banner embroidered by her was too expensive because of the luxurious fabric and golden threads, so they did not give it to the army. She had no other threads.

Roxana was terribly angry at her helplessness and the futility of all her efforts. The father unsubscribed to all questions, promising to marry so that she would have a worthy woman's business. Roxana also didn’t really want to marry, all the men around her who were tall enough for marriage were writhing continuously, straightening her cuffs and powdered hair, and wearing heels higher than hers. The groom, even younger than her for a year, too.

She was not surprised that they were losing the war. She wondered how all the court courtiers left in the capital managed to ignore this fact, sitting over the muddy streets and assuring each other that the dirty barbarians now, of course, will fumble, break themselves, and the brave Prince Alaksar will expel them from Landria’s lands. But the city is locked up. Winter is coming, another week or two - and the snow, cold, the last urban reservoirs will freeze.

Roxana sometimes envied the savages behind the walls - there is a will, fresh air, horses are running there, and clean rivers. But she was jealous not for long, stopping sometimes by the window in her chambers. Then she recalled her duties.

And then came the day when they brought one egg for breakfast, a piece of yesterday's bread, and water. The princess looked at the food, and refused.

The next day, she ate an egg, watching the trees bend in the garden far below the window.

Then the father began to confine himself to rare notes, and the servants bit their tongues sharply. Next to her, everyone pretended that the prince, her half-brother from the king’s first wife, was about to break the siege.

Once it became impossible to pretend. The city was ablaze, the inhabitants revolted and opened the gates. Almost immediately set fire to the palace park. Jumping up in the middle of the night, and realizing all the scarlet glow outside the window, Roxana rushed to the chest in the corner of her room.

Yes, no one told her how things were going. But she suspected that was not very good. And that the savages from the suburbs may not follow the knightly code, and did not hurry to leave with a decent surrender.

In the chest lay a plain woolen dress, sturdy boots, and a warm raincoat. A purse with a sufficient amount of small coins. A small crossbow, which Roxana confidently charged, dressed.

Guardians at the door was not. Running down the stairs, the girl mingled with the crowd, rushing around the palace. She ran to the chambers of her father, hoping to get out of the palace through a secret passage leading from the royal bedroom to the outskirts of the city. But there was already a battle, and the battle was strange - there were no savages yet, but dead guardsmen lay in the corridors. Picking up her skirt, Roxana sneaked almost to her father’s chambers.

It was a riot. The soldiers themselves killed the chief of the guard, not waiting for the invaders. Whether patience is exhausted, or hoping to earn the favor of the leader of the savages.

Now they will remember me, Roxana understood, bending over and slouching, backing back. There is a few meters to the nearest secret passage - it can take it out of the palace, or at least let it hide until the first ardor of the conquerors dies away. Oh no, they won't kill her - are beautiful young girls killed when the enemy is young and angry? Is that she will die, unable to withstand the violence. If the savage who promised to come after her, here, the chains of the slave are inevitable. Is it better to die - is she a princess, or a village girl, ready to sell honor for life?

The far doors swung open. The winners are a horde of tall, strong men in armor made of boiled leather or bronze, laughing loudly. In their hands are huge axes and swords, which they wave like canes. They come, confident, arrogant, without even realizing the value of carpets, which are trampled by huge boots. However, the carpets are still spoiled by blood. Her whole house smelled of blood.

Roxanne hunched, passing them by. Carefully stepped back. Here they reached the father's bedroom, everything is visible through wide-open double doors. She stepped back. A little bit...

Here one of them begins to laugh, seeing the bodies of the guards. Turns around. She is almost at the door, fumbles for a mechanism.

Turned around. On the face of an evil celebration, ...