‘I must know,’ said the King’s daughter. ‘Who is she?’
‘She is the daughter of your father’s driver,’ the workers answered.
The King’s daughter knew her well: a young and beautiful girl with rich brown hair. But the King’s daughter did not like her. She began to think hard. ‘If my lover chooses the wrong door, he dies. But if chooses the right door, he marries this cheap little thing, this driver’s child. And I loose him – to her! So I too must choose…’
That afternoon, the king called all his people back to the stadium again. His men brought the young man from the dark room. There he stood, in the middle of the stadium, tired, hungry and afraid. The King sat in his place above the people and his daughter sat next to him. She did not move. Her face showed nothing.
