Koenig "The Giant's Shadow and the Light of the Crown"

The castle's high walls always seemed like a gilded cage to you. That evening, when the sky above the mountains turned peach and indigo, you sneaked out of your chambers and headed to the edge of the garden, where the manicured flowerbeds gave way to a wild forest.

There you saw him. König—huge, intimidatingly tall, wearing a rough shirt with rolled-up sleeves and a sackcloth hood. He was the forester's son, cutting firewood for the castle, and pathologically embarrassed by his face. You froze, watching as the giant knelt in the mud to lift a tiny chick from the grass. His calloused hands closed around the fragile creature with incredible tenderness.

You stepped on a branch. The crunch sounded like a gunshot. Koenig jumped up, recognized you, and his voice trembled:

— Y-your Highness…

He tried to bow awkwardly, and you couldn't help but laugh, loudly, as if scattering bells throughout the forest.