The knight said nothing, lifted him up, and headed back toward the carriage. Albert was weak and bloody, gasping for breath; his face bruised, his lip split, and blood slowly dripping from the corner of his mouth.
Diana, seeing this scene, stepped forward suddenly, her eyes full of sorrow and compassion:
"There was no need to be so harsh with him…"
The knight lowered his head without looking. But the maid stepped forward quickly and said firmly,
"My lady! , This boy stole your precious ring! ,Theft like this cannot be forgiven. He must be punished to serve as a lesson to others."
Then she turned to the knight and said,
"Draw your sword… Cut off the hand of this little thief!"
The crowd around them stared in shock and horror. Albert held his breath; his eyes trembled.
But suddenly Diana shouted loudly and with protest,
"No! Don't do that!"
Everyone fell silent. Even the knight removed his hand from the sword hilt.
Diana went toward Albert, took his small, dirty hand, her breath heavy with excitement and suppressed anger:
"If he stole, it means he was forced to. No one steals for fun…"
With kindness and a trembling voice, she said,
"Tell me… why did you steal my ring?"
Her eyes were full of love, but her voice trembled deeply; as if she herself did not yet know why her heart ached for this poor boy.
Albert, cheeks flushed with shame, looked down at the ground. A heavy silence fell; as if expressing his feelings was the hardest thing in the world.
With a shaky, hoarse voice, he said,
"I… I have a sick sister. She lives under the bridge… Since goblins killed my mom and dad, we've been alone. She's very weak, she has a stomach ulcer… hasn't eaten for three days… I just… just wanted to get a piece of bread so she could survive…"
His voice broke mid-sentence, tears ran down his dirty cheeks. His breaths were trembling.
Diana's eyes widened, she slowly exhaled and for a few moments was unable to speak.
Finally, gently but firmly she said,
"You… from now on, you are under my protection."
The maid suddenly stepped forward angrily, her voice loud and protesting:
"My lady! This boy is just a dirty peasant and a thief! There are thousands like him in the city. Why should your kindness include him?"
Diana looked at her calmly, neither angrily nor pityingly, just calmly but determined:
"If there are thousands in this city in the same condition… maybe fate wanted one of them, today, right now, to face us."
She paused for a moment, then continued thoughtfully:
"Maybe this is a message from God…"
Albert still didn't fully grasp what he was hearing; the voices of Diana and the maid were like waves slowly stirring his mind. His gaze was confused and full of questions, but inside him, a new fire was kindling. A heart that had been frozen for years in the cruel cold of the streets now felt a moment of gentle warmth. A voice whispered inside: "Is it really over? Can I live like normal people now?"
The maid, still holding the handkerchief to her nose, fell silent, staring at the ground. Her voice had no feeling, as if she did not want to face reality.
Diana stepped forward calmly but firmly, knelt, and took Albert's hand. It was as if this touch promised change and hope.
"Take me to your sister."
Albert's eyes were full of hesitation and anxiety. He paused for a moment, then nodded quietly and led them toward the bridge — a place filled with the stench of garbage and slime, and shadows cast dark cracks on the walls.
Under the bridge, a crowd of homeless people and cats lived. The sound of coughing and rats squeaking filled the air. The maid pressed the handkerchief harder against her nose, her face twisted in discomfort:
"My lady, this place is not suitable for you… Please return to the carriage."
But Diana paid no attention, walking steadily forward. Her gaze was fixed only on that dark, suffering point.
When they reached Albert's sister, something inside Diana shattered. A frail, weak little girl whose bones protruded under her thin skin, struggling to breathe. Her sunken eyes were full of pain and suffering, and her body barely able to lie on the ground. Dry, relentless coughs broke the silence.
Diana fell to her knees, placed her hand over her heart, as if struck by a heavy blow.
"My people… live in such conditions…"
Her eyes filled with tears.
"And I… until today, what have I been doing?"
She paused for a moment, took a deep breath, then said softly,
"I have to do something. I cannot see this suffering and remain indifferent."
Albert, who until that moment had tightly pressed his lips, let tears roll down his dirty cheeks. Diana took his hands and they headed toward the market, where sunlight shone through the alleys and the scent of fresh bread and warm stews filled the air.
They entered a small but cozy restaurant. The interior was simple but welcoming, wooden walls, and large windows letting in the morning light. The laughter and chatter of customers created a temporary peace in those hard days.
Diana sat by the table and with a kind smile said,
"Order whatever you like… anything you want."
Albert's sister looked at the food for a moment, as if unsure what to choose. Albert shakily ordered a few pieces of bread and hot soup. When the food arrived, the smell was so delightful that tears of joy formed in their eyes.
Albert and his sister sat quietly for a moment with wide eyes and trembling lips. It was as if they couldn't believe this real chance. They chose their food hesitantly; a chicken stew, hot soup, some bread and fruit.
When the food arrived, its scent ignited a fire of hope in their souls. Without delay—but not rudely, rather driven by hunger from the bone—they began to eat. Their bites came faster than they could chew. But in the silence of eating, tears ran from both their eyes; not from the taste of food, but from the forgotten feeling of "not being hungry."
Diana smiled, a mixture of happiness and sadness, and said,
"You have been through very hard days. You were truly strong."
After their stomachs were full and tears wiped away, Albert lifted his head.
"Can you tell me your name? I want to know who saved our lives…"
Diana paused for a moment, then quietly said,
"My name is Diana."
Albert stood silently, paused briefly, then bent his right knee and bowed with full respect.
"I, Albert, swear to remain loyal to you until my last breath… my lady."
---
**One year later...**
It was early morning. The sun hadn't fully risen yet, but a soft light shone through the small window of a simple, warm house.
Albert, now standing taller, his face sun-kissed but hopeful, woke up. He wore simple, clean clothes and brushed his hair. He took a piece of fresh bread and quietly left the room.
Inside, his sister, now revitalized, lay on a small, softer bed. No longer pale and with protruding bones, her cheeks were rosy and her breathing steady and calm. A gentle smile played on her lips—a smile that promised better days.
Albert smiled with love and hope, then headed toward the knights' headquarters.
Diana had sent a letter to the commander of the knights some time ago, requesting training and support for this boy.
In the training ground, the sounds of clashing swords and the commander's shouts filled the air. Albert never tired; he fell but rose again, dusted off his clothes, and attacked with all his might.
At night, when training was over, he went to the docks or the market, working laboriously to support the household. He was no longer a hungry street boy; he was a man fighting for a greater purpose—for honor, for his sister, and for Diana, who had once brought him out of darkness into the light.