I know that Sioni is in danger. I don’t know how I know, but I do. There is a strange pain in my back, shooting up and down my spine. I silently will Sioni to stay strong. I hope that my thoughts reach her, wherever she is, and that she feels reassured and knows that I am coming to save her.

“Alfred, who are these peasants?” My mother asks, looking disdainfully at Sioni’s parents.

My mother and father openly stare at Sioni’s parents. Her mother is dressed in a simple dress with no adornments, her black hair pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck. There are many gray strands running through her hair. Her father wears the long pants farmers and carpenters commonly wear, and his face is weathered. Despite the fact that they are peasants, and far beneath us, you can tell they are proud of their station in life. They are proud of their daughter and will do anything to save her, even if it means risking the wrath of the king.

“These are the parents of my beloved, Sioni,” I say, “And they need our help.”