A few weeks passed without anything disturbing the apparent tranquility of the palace. Naye was learning the customs and culture of the kingdom like any normal child. His curiosity seemed inexhaustible — he questioned everything, observed everything, tried to understand everything.
He and Eleanor spent a lot of time together, as the other noble children had left the capital with their families, far from the front. Those who remained found Naye too strange to play with.
Over time, Naye began to seem less unusual as he learned how to live in this society — a change that greatly reassured the palace servants, who were starting to feel less lost around him.
The bedroom door burst open, and a small silhouette stormed into the room.
"Naye! Come with me! We're going to the city — it's the Academy's Grand Exhibition!" Eleanor exclaimed joyfully.
Naye, hunched over his desk, looked up. He was assembling a strange little object made of wheels, pipes, and twisted springs.
"Is this exhibition… interesting?" he asked, sounding unconvinced.
"Yes, of course! You get to see all kinds of spells and inventions made by the students!"
She approached, leaning over his contraption.
"What's that? Did you take parts from the supply room again? Calen is going to scold you."
"Not at all," Naye protested. "I asked the valet if I could take some, and he said yes.
"It's a steam car! Like the ones in the streets."
"And does it work?" asked the princess.
"Certainly," Naye replied proudly. "…Maybe," he added, before winding a spring and lighting a tiny candle beneath the device. The miniature car began to vibrate, then move forward with a worrying squeal.
Then it exploded.
The children stared at it in stunned silence.
Eleanor burst into laughter.
"Come on! Let's go see people who actually know how to make things," she said, grabbing his arm.
In front of the palace, the great square had turned into a true marketplace of marvels.
Wooden platforms, bright tents, banners snapping in the wind — everywhere, students and young magisters proudly presented their creations like peacocks displaying their feathers.
Here, someone demonstrated a spell allowing for short bursts of flight. Over there, another tried to sell his invention that could keep drinks cold for days.
They could also hear certain braggarts:
"Before I entered the Academy, I was just a hopeless blacksmith's apprentice.Now, the Ministry of War is ordering machines from me."
In the middle of the crowds, Eleanor and Naye, escorted by Calen, explored the wonders with wide-eyed fascination.
Calen, however, observed in silence.
He knew that these young inventors, mages, and explorers were not merely proud of their student projects.Some would become captains, others military engineers, magistrates, or royal advisors.
The Academy did not just train scholars.It forged the kingdom's tools.
"Will I also learn to do all this when I go to the Academy?" Eleanor asked Calen.
"Certainly, princess. All this, and much more," the captain answered calmly.
After hearing many tales of exploration, adventures in ancient ruins, and extravagant student projects, Eleanor's fascination eventually gave way to a much more earthly feeling: hunger.
"Come, there's a bakery with amazing cakes," Eleanor said, pointing toward a side street.
Calen sighed, then nodded.
They headed into the street.
The cobblestones became uneven, the houses narrower. Makeshift stalls crowded the way. They sold cheap pastries, trinkets, dried plants, and second-hand magical objects. Children ran everywhere, delivery boys zigzagged between people, and the air smelled of warm sugar.
Eleanor walked with no sense of caution, guided only by the thought of cakes.
That's when an unusual commotion, coming from a side alley, caught their attention. It was a narrow, rarely used passage. In that half-deserted corridor, three figures surrounded a frail boy. The tone was escalating too fast and too harsh to be a simple quarrel.
One detail stood out: the boy was an elf.
Mirandel, the capital of Elyndor, attracted everything the kingdom had to offer — humans, elves, dwarves, merchants, artisans, nobles, and charlatans. Eleanor liked to believe that, in some streets, one could meet the entire world in a single morning.
What she noticed less was how conversations stopped when certain faces passed by.Diversity was everywhere — trust, far less.
"You really thought you could get away from us, elf?!" one of the men snarled.
"You should've stayed in your forest if you're not even useful," sneered another.
Calen tensed, ready to intervene if things escalated.
But Eleanor was faster.
"Hey! Let him go immediately!" she shouted, outraged.
The three men turned.
Calen placed a hand on the hilt of his sword and glared in warning.
The moment they recognized the Captain of the Guard, the three thugs didn't ask questions — they ran.
The elf remained still for a moment, then turned toward them.
He was fifteen at most, barely older than the princess, with black hair tied hastily, and an angular face where pride and caution mingled.
Eleanor stepped forward, her hands behind her back.
"Are you all right? Did they hurt you?" she asked gently.
The elf shrugged, as if categorically refusing to be pitied.
"Nothing I couldn't take," he replied, his voice sharp but not hostile.
His gaze shifted to Naye, who was observing him with genuine curiosity, head slightly tilted.
"Why were they after you?" the boy asked.
The elf pressed his lips together, hesitating.
Then he answered, vaguely:
"Bad story. It's over now."
Calen approached as well, assessing him with a soldier's eye.
The young boy held his gaze without wavering, as if refusing to show even a hint of weakness.
"If you want," Eleanor suggested with a smile, "we could walk you somewhere?"
"No need, princess," he replied immediately — too quickly to hide his discomfort.
"You know my title?" she asked, surprised.
"Everyone knows it, in the capital," he said with a half-smirk.
Stepping back, he added simply:
"Thanks. That's all."
And he disappeared down the alley without another word.
Naye watched him leave, intrigued.
Calen gently placed a hand on the princess's shoulder.
"Your Highness… your cakes?"
Eleanor blinked, as though suddenly returning to reality.
"Oh—yes! Cakes!"
And just like that, the incident was washed away by the scent of warm sugar.