But it might have been noticed that she blushed just a little as she said it, so that perhaps she was not quite sincere in what she said. Lord Licec did not notice that, so he said:
‘Well, if he won’t suit, the only thing to do is to have a tournament, and then you must marry the winner.’
But she did not seem to like the idea at all.
‘Suppose the winner should turn out a hunchback, or a cripple, or a very hideous man,’ she said.
‘Your Majesty might arrange it so that the candidates should only be allowed to tilt if they were sufficiently handsome.’
She agreed to the suggestion.
‘I suppose it is the only thing to do,’ she said; and it was arranged that in four weeks’ time a grand tournament was to take place for the hand of the Princess Ismara, and that all the handsome knights in the world could come if they liked.
As to the Owl, when he was asked if he liked the arrangement, he gravely nodded his head; so the Princess felt quite safe in her choice, and the Prince of India felt contented also, for he knew he had a very good chance of winning, unless some knight of whom he had never heard should suddenly turn up. He spent the time in between in practising for the tournament, and he ordered a new set of armour to be sent to him from India in time.
So every one seemed pleased with the arrangement, except, perhaps, the ugly knights, but they kept quiet about it.
The month went away quietly, except that the town was gradually filling with knights, who were coming to take part in the contest. The lists were erected on a plain just outside the town-walls, and on the day before the tournament the free seats were already filled with people, who had come there determined to get places even if they had to wait all day long and had to sleep there all night. As you may imagine, the Princess did not get much sleep that night, for she was naturally in a great fever of excitement thinking about who the knight would be. One thing she was sure about, and that was, that if she did not like him she would not have anything to do with him, even if she had to forfeit her kingdom. However that might be, she did not sleep that night, and on the morrow she felt quite tired. She dressed herself in her most splendid robes, and drove to the lists in a little basket-work pony carriage drawn by eight little mouse-coloured ponies. It was a beautiful day, and the road to the lists was covered with people who were going to look on, or to take part in the tournament, and as she went by they drew up their horses to bow to her, for she had specially forbidden them to cheer—she said it made her head ache. So she drove down the hard, white road bowing and smiling to the people, and they smiled and looked glad too, for they were very fond of their Princess.