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

The high walls of the castle had always felt like a gilded cage to you. That evening, as the sky over the mountains turned the colors of peach and indigo, you slipped secretly from your chambers and headed toward the edge of the garden, where the manicured flowerbeds gave way to the wild forest.

There, you saw him. König—massive, frighteningly tall, wearing a coarse shirt with rolled-up sleeves and a burlap hood. He was the forester's son, chopping firewood for the castle, and was pathologically shy about his face. You froze, watching as the giant knelt in the mud to pick up a tiny fledgling from the grass. His calloused palms closed around the fragile creature with incredible tenderness.

You stepped on a twig. The snap sounded like a gunshot. König bolted upright, recognized you—and his voice trembled:

"Y-your Highness..."

He attempted a clumsy bow, and you couldn't help but laugh—brightly, like bells scattering through the forest.