"Oh! Blast," Baelisk said to himself as he realized what had happened. He had been in such a hurry that when he had paid for his steed he had given his collection or rare gold and starmetal coins to the caretaker, which left the king with nothing but Baelisk’s weekly payment. He crumpled into a very low and respectful bow. "My sincerest apologies, your Highness." he said. "There has been a mix-up."

"I should hope it was a mistake!" replied the king with disdain. "Paying a workman’s wages for the hand of my beloved daughter! Well, then, you have nothing to offer?"

Baelisk sighed with despair. "I have nothing that is equal in value to such a beautiful treasure as your daughter, your Highness. But please! There must be something that I could do; something I could give you that would make you reconsider. I am only a guard captain from a monastery. I am not rich; I have no treasures to give you. All I have is my weekly wages and what the gods gave me! I beg you, give me some chance to win the hand of your daughter. I would travel to every corner of the world—"

"Alright!" the king interrupted. "Thank you! You are a strong speaker, and you certainly have your heart in the right place. There might be something you could do. Hmm," The king paused and considered for a moment. "Have you ever heard of the Silver City?"

"Yes, your Majesty, in tales." Baelisk replied as politely as he dared, trying not to seem rude by chuckling a little. The Silver City was a mythical utopia that was said to exist in some other realm, a magical place where everything was light and good and beautiful. A good setting for a children's tale; certainly not for a guard to seek out, if he wanted any sort of positive reputation.

"Good." said the King. "Very well then. To win my daughter's hand, you must bring me the fabled Silver Star of Sanctity, the nexus of magic, that rests in the heart of Silver City."

Baelisk didn't respond for a moment. "But your Highness, I--"

"I don't want to hear it." the king interrupted shortly. "That is the price for the hand of the princess. You may go."

Baelisk opened his mouth to say something else, but he thought better of it. It would not be wise to argue with the king. He was lucky to get any chance at marrying the princess whatsoever. No matter how absurd that chance is, Baelisk thought with a flash of annoyance. Picking up a few of the scattered coins and giving a final short bow, Baelisk turned and walked away from the throne.