Nick woke up with a start. It was morning, sunlight pouring in just to prove that it was indeed light. Lilly was next to him, putting a cool washcloth on his forehead. �You were talking in your sleep all through the night. I was worried, Sire. Are you ill?�

He shook his head, and discovered he had a painful migraine. He couldn�t lift his head without feeling like a vice was clamped around it, pulling harder and tightening its grip around him. �No, Lilly, my head hurts like hell, though. What was I saying?�

�Something like, �princess�, I think,� she tried to remember.

He was embarrassed. Impure thoughts about a woman he didn�t even know? That was perverted, let alone unthinkable. Maybe if he knew her better --- no, it was still the same no matter if he knew her or not.

�You blush, my Lord, why?� she asked, taking the cloth, soaking it, and placing it on his head again.

�I saw her. She was in my dream. I dreamed about just today when I saw her in the pond. She was swimming by herself, naked. Her dress was on a rock, along with her shoes. She got out of the pond, against both our wills. She was beautiful, Lilly. I couldn�t help staring.�

�Who, Nick?� Lilly stopped and waited for an answer.

�It was Princess Celeste. She was an angel sent from above. Never have I seen such beauty before in my life,� he remembered, fondly.

�And what else did she do?�

�She told me that men think of only two things: war and sex. Do you think it is true?�

�For most, yes. But, Nickolas, I know you are different. Yes, you might dream of things of that sort, but it is nature. No man I have met, even as high as your father, has ever thought of those things. But you are not just about those things. You love adventure, and mystery and mischief. You love laughing at little pranks you pull, I do too.�

He grinned wildly. �Thank you, Lilly. That is all I need for now. You can have the day off if you like,� he offered.

She hugged him graciously and then left the room in a hurry.

Jesus, was she that eager to leave? Nick asked himself.

Nick fell asleep again, but it was a dreamless one. He woke up later in the day, and dressed. He ventured into the kitchen, where Hilda, the cook, was making a sandwich of some sort. She looked up at him, �Good afternoon, Nick. What can I make you?�

He shrugged and sat down in a nearby stool. He watched her take out different ingredients and concocted his lunch. He thanked her and stomached it easily. Hilda was the best cook in the whole kingdom; she could make anything and everything. And the foods were mouth-watering. So, Nickolas stopped by to see her often.

�It was wonderful, Hilda, as always,� he complimented and washed the china dish off.

�I would get in trouble if your father saw you doing my work for me,� she said.

�My father is a stiff man who couldn�t mend a sock if his life depended on it. The thought of labor is out of the question.� Nick laughed at his words. They sounded like an exaggeration, but it was the truth, as scary as it seemed. Yes, he was a very smart ruler of his property, but when it came down to housework, he would have been hopeless.

Nick was like his mother. She was kind-hearted and nothing like her husband. She could work as hard as any servant in that household, and preferred it to being pampered. Nickolas was very generous, and helped out his maids, butlers and anyone else. Despite his egotistical shell. He was kind and gentle.

�That will be all, Nickolas. I don�t want you to strain anything, that would be a pity,� Hilda teased, smacking his behind and sending him out.

Nickolas dressed quickly as soon as he was in his room. He looked at a sketching of his now-deceased wife, Patricia that Hilda had once etched. He was young to be married at the time, and he learned from that mistake. She had died of pneumonia maybe a week later. She was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and she was gone forever.

Nick walked through the kitchen, saying good-bye to Hilda before going into the forest again.