“It was very kind of you, Aryenis, to think of this handsome gift. It really was a surprise, and one that I appreciated tremendously.”
“A gift for a gift,” said she. “But ours is only a little one, whereas yours to me is the greatest that man or woman can give and beyond all repayment. But we hoped that perchance some day in battle our gift might give you life as you gave me, and so indirectly we would repay like with like. I’m so glad you’re pleased.”
“You say ‘the greatest gift man or woman can give,’ Aryenis. Could any one else give a greater—a fairy prince, for instance?”
Aryenis looked out over her horse’s ears. Then, rather reflectively:
“A fairy prince or a fairy princess might give something bigger. Yes; if they were the right ones with the right marks, something much bigger, because it would mean not only life, but lots and lots more.”
“I wish I were a fairy prince, then. I should like to give such a gift as you speak of.”
“Perhaps you will be some day—when you meet the princess—or—when you know she is the princess.”
“When I’ve seen the mark on her shoulder, for instance?”
Aryenis reflected again.
“Perhaps. If she had one. But then you might have difficulty in seeing it; she mightn’t like to show it. You said yourself that women didn’t like having marks. And all fairy princesses are women.”