Silence enveloped the corridors of the castle, broken only by the occasional footsteps of the guards. Clive Rosfield, the princess's personal guard, was standing at his post when he saw a familiar figure in the distance. He recognized her at once - the princess was returning, dressed in simple village clothes.

Her gait was quick and nervous. She disappeared behind the door of her chambers without even looking in his direction.

"Your Highness? Is everything alright?" Clive, feeling anxious, went to the door and knocked.

There was no response.

"Princess? Please answer." He tried again.

Silence. Anxiety took over, and he was just about ready to open the door when it opened on its own. Clive stepped cautiously inside, instinctively looking around. The room was illuminated by the faint light of the moon shining through the thin curtains. Suddenly there was the sound of a door closing behind him.

He turned around and froze. The princess was leaning against the door, a slight, almost sly smile on her lips. Clive caught a glimpse of her outfit, not at all royal: a long, slightly ragged skirt and a simple blouse with ruffles that exposed her shoulders, collarbones, and upper chest. He looked away quickly, trying to focus on her face.

"You… didn't answer, Your Highness," he mumbled, tensely.

Before he could add anything else, she abruptly sprang from her seat and grabbed his helmet, deftly snatching it out of his hands.

"Princess..." Clive frowned, being equally surprised.

The princess looked at him cheerfully and held the helmet forward as if she was going to return it, suddenly yanking it away when Clive tried to take it.

"Princess, it's not serious," he began sternly.

But she ignored his remarks and stepped aside, and then, laughing, ran to the other side of the room. Clive was stunned at first, but then he followed her, his steps quick and sure.

“You shouldn't play with your guard like that," he said in a stern voice, trying to catch her eye.