“Where is your real sister?” cried Anastasia.
But to all these questions the herdboy gave a satisfactory answer. “I never had any,” he said.
“Very well then,” cried the King. “You are adopted! I will be your father; the Queen shall be your mother; Anastasia shall be your sister. What is more, in five years and a day, when you are quite grown-up, you shall marry the Princess!”
But by the time he got to that part Ivan and Anastasia were too much excited to hear. The minute he finished they bowed and curtsied as well-mannered children should, and ran into the courtyard to play tiddledywinks with the gold-pieces, over the bread.
Nevertheless, it turned out as the King had said, and in five years and a day, when they were quite grown-up, Ivan and the Princess were married. And ever after in the palace-treasury instead of heaps of gold-pieces for robbers to steal, there was nothing but a single loaf of bread.
—Based on a Hungarian Folk-tale.