Linda Branca knew that the king was ill, and when these words were reported to her she quickly dressed herself in the robe of blue trimmed with silver, which she had worn the first night of the feast. When she took off her ugly mask and looked at herself in the glass she was really pleased with her reflection.
"It is not so bad after all to be pretty," she said as she smiled.
Linda Branca stole out of the palace and peeped into the window of the royal bedchamber. One of the king's counsellors saw her.
"Whose lovely face is that at the window?" he asked.
"It is surely the beautiful stranger from the land of the boot," said one.
"It is the charming maiden from the land of the hairbrush," disputed another.
By the time the king himself had reached the window there was no one to be seen. He called for the queen, his mother.
"Tell me, mother, who was outside my window a moment ago?" he asked.
"No one unless a masquerader," replied the queen.
The poor queen was nearly worn out with worry over her son. She was afraid he was so sick that he was going to die.