The princess who didn't want to be rescued

At the top of the tallest tower in the kingdom, Princess Agatha was polishing a lens. She had chosen this tower herself: from up there, you could see the stars without the smoke from the chimneys. She had carried up a long copper tube, three notebooks, a teapot and a friend, Cinder the dragon, who slept curled up on the roof to keep the slates warm.

One morning, a trumpet blared. TOOT, TOOT, TOOOOT! Agatha leaned out. Down below, a knight in armour too big for him was propping a ladder against the wall, still blowing into his trumpet. "Princess Agatha!" he shouted. "I am Sir Gus. I have come to rescue you!"

"Rescue me from what?" asked Agatha. "Well... from the tower. From the dragon. From all this." He looked up at Cinder, who had just opened one yellow eye and yawned, letting out a little puff of smoke. Gus took a step back and tripped over his sword.

"I'm perfectly fine," said Agatha. "But you must have walked a long way. The ladder is sturdy. Come up and have some tea."

Gus climbed. There were a hundred and twelve rungs, and he counted every one. When he poked his head through the window, he forgot to breathe. The copper tube pointed at the sky, and the notebooks were full of moons: a crescent moon, a full moon, a moon with a bite taken out of one side.

"It's a telescope," Agatha explained, pouring him a cup. "Every night I note where the moon rises. I'm missing just one page. There's a tiny star right next to the moon, and I can't draw it: when I hold the tube, I can't write, and when I write, the tube wobbles."

Gus looked at the teapot, then at the tube. "I could hold it, if you like." "That is exactly what I was hoping," said Agatha.

When evening came, Gus held the tube in both hands, very straight, trying not to breathe too loudly. Cinder rested his chin on the windowsill to warm Gus's fingers. Agatha wrote with her tongue between her teeth. "The moon is full of dents," Gus murmured. "Yes. And look, right there, just beside it."

The star was there, very small, twinkling. Agatha drew a dot, then another next to it, and wrote down the date.

Later, Gus yawned three times in a row, and then a fourth. Agatha lent him a blanket and a cushion by the stove, where his trumpet eventually rolled under a chair. Cinder snored softly on the roof, and the slates warmed above them. Agatha closed her notebook, took one last look through the tube, and the star was still in the same spot, small and steady, just beside the moon.