Clever Ileane

Clever Ileane

Once there was a king who had three daughters. The eldest was serious and quiet. The middle daughter loved beautiful clothes and festive days. The youngest, Ileane, had such a quick mind that the courtiers liked to say, “While we are still thinking, Ileane has already invented, done, and returned from the job.” One day, the king had to leave for a long journey to settle a difficult disagreement with a neighboring ruler. Before he went, he called his daughters and gave each of them three things: a flower in a pot, a small singing bird, and a rosy apple. “Take care of what I entrust to you,” he said. “Not because these things are costly, but because I want to know whether you can keep a promise.” After the king departed, the three sons of the neighboring ruler decided to visit the palace. They wished to prove that they could charm anyone with fine words. The eldest prince stood a long time beneath the eldest sister’s window and asked her to come out and speak. She refused several times, but finally agreed to a short conversation. The second prince did the same with the middle sister. Then the youngest prince rode up to Ileane’s window. She was watering her flower. “Where are you hurrying?” she asked. “I am looking for a sunbeam,” said the prince. “They say one lives in this palace.” “Pretty words,” said Ileane. “But what can you do besides say pretty words?” The prince smiled. “Test me.” “Very well. Can you make a thistle bloom with roses?” “No.” “Can you make a bat sing like a nightingale?” “No.” “Can you grow an apple on a dry branch?” The prince thought. “If you give me time, I will try.” “That is a better answer,” said Ileane. “Someone who cannot yet do a thing but is willing to learn is more interesting than someone who only boasts.” She invited him into the hall. The prince, sure that he had already won their game of words, sat down in a great carved chair. Click! The chair slowly lowered through an old lifting door to the floor below. “Ileane!” cried the prince from underneath. “What kind of welcome is this?” “A test,” she answered, peering into the opening. “Are you as calm as your pretty words?” The servants lifted the chair back up at once. No one had been hurt, but the prince was so offended that he left without saying goodbye. “I will return!” he called as he mounted his horse. “Only knock at the door,” Ileane called cheerfully. When the three princes met at home, the youngest told them what had happened. His brothers laughed, but they were annoyed too, for the sisters had not been easily impressed by them. Meanwhile, the eldest and middle princesses began to regret joining in the game at all. They grew careless. The eldest girl’s flower wilted, the middle girl’s bird stopped singing, and the apples of both sisters spoiled. “What will Father say?” they worried. Instead of admitting their mistake, they decided to draw Ileane into more trouble. One morning, the eldest sister lay in bed and said, “I feel so ill! I think only a dish from the neighboring princes’ kitchen can help me.” Ileane became suspicious, but she loved her sister. “All right,” she said. “I will bring some.” She arrived at the princes’ palace while the kitchen was busy. “Cook!” she called. “You are wanted in the great hall. They say it is urgent.” The cook ran to see. Ileane quickly filled a little jug with some prepared food, left a coin for it, and went away. When the cook returned, he knew who had outwitted him. “Ileane!” he laughed. “What a clever girl.” When the youngest prince heard about it, he only pressed his lips together. A few days later, the middle sister asked for another treat. Ileane went again to the neighboring palace and cleverly managed to get what was needed from the storeroom, leaving fair payment behind. Then the princes decided to make a trap in the garden by the golden apple tree. They stretched nearly invisible cords with tiny bells and laid harmless sticky strips of resin so an unwelcome visitor would become tangled and unable to run away. The sisters asked Ileane to bring them two golden apples. Ileane entered the garden, saw two lions by the gate, and calmly tossed them pieces of meat she had brought from home. The lions lay down and stopped growling. Near the apple tree, she noticed the thin cords at once. “Nicely planned,” she whispered. “Only a little too obvious to someone who watches the ground.” The youngest prince was hiding behind the bushes. “Ileane!” he called. “Would you like some help?” “Certainly. Come closer and show me where it is safest to step.” The prince decided she had noticed nothing. He took one step, then a second, and caught the very lowest cord he had tied himself. Jingle, jingle, jingle! In a moment, he stood tangled in ribbons and cords, while flower petals fell from the branches above to mark the silly trap. Ileane picked two apples. “Thank you for your help,” she said. “Now you know exactly where not to walk.” “Untie me!” “Of course. But first promise that you will not make traps where someone could be hurt.” The prince was angry and impressed at the same time, but he promised. Ileane untangled the cords and went home. The youngest prince could not forget her. It annoyed him that she was always one step ahead. Yet he began to understand that this was what he admired about her. “How can I be angry at someone and still want to speak with her?” he asked an old adviser. The adviser laughed. “Very easily. Perhaps you have met someone for the first time who is not afraid to tell you the truth.” Soon Ileane heard that the prince had become ill after his long adventures and would see no one. She dressed as a traveling healer, visited him, and asked, “What troubles you most?” “Pride,” muttered the prince. “And one girl.” “Pride is harder to mend than a cold. What did the girl do?” “She outwits me every time.” “Perhaps you should stop trying to compete with her.” The prince thought. “Perhaps. If she would agree to talk with me without traps and jokes, I would apologize. And then, perhaps, I would ask to marry her—but only if she wanted it herself.” Ileane smiled beneath her scarf. This was a very different kind of conversation. When her father returned home, the elder sisters were frightened. They knew they had not cared for the things he had trusted to them. Ileane could have hidden their mistakes. She even offered her own flower and bird to help them. But when the king began to ask questions, the sisters understood that another untruth would only make things worse. “We are at fault,” said the eldest. “We cared more about the princes and our fear of being punished than about our promise,” said the middle sister. The king was sad, but he did not punish them harshly. “Trust cannot be restored by punishment,” he said. “It is restored by deeds. For one year, you will care for the palace garden and the birdhouse yourselves. Let what you neglected teach you care.” The sisters agreed. A while later, the youngest prince came to the palace. He stood before the king and said, “I would like permission to speak with Ileane.” “You must ask her for that permission,” said the king. Ileane came out. “This time, no lifting doors, cords, or golden apples?” asked the prince. “If you bring no traps, I will bring no traps.” They spoke for a long time. The prince apologized for his pride. Ileane admitted that she, too, sometimes cared too much about having to win every game. Time passed. They met many more times, argued, laughed, rode together, and gradually understood that they wanted to be near one another not because anyone told them to, but because they respected one another. When they decided to marry, the prince still could not resist one final joke. “On our first night as husband and wife,” he told his brothers, “I will remind Ileane of every clever trick she played.” Ileane happened to hear this. She asked the palace bakers to make a large sugar figure that looked like her. The figure was seated behind a screen in the wedding room. That evening, the prince entered carrying a ceremonial wooden sword used for cutting ribbons at the celebration. “Ileane,” he said solemnly to the figure’s shadow, “was it you who lowered me in the lifting chair?” “It was,” said the real Ileane from behind the curtain. The prince touched the sugar figure lightly with the wooden sword. A little piece of sugar fell away. “Was it you who led me into my own trap?” “It was.” Another tiny bit of sugar dropped onto the floor. Then the prince stopped. “You know what? Enough. Even as a joke, I no longer want to take revenge on you.” He set down the sword. Ileane stepped out from behind the curtain. “At last, you have passed one test,” she said. “Which test?” “You stopped in time.” The prince laughed, saw the sugar figure, and shook his head. “So you were one step ahead again.” “No,” Ileane replied. “This time, we arrived at the same place together.” After that, they did not live without disagreements, for two clever people rarely agree about everything. But their home had a rule: no traps, no revenge, and no hurt feeling that could not be talked about. Whenever someone at court said, “No one can outwit Ileane!” the prince replied, “There is no need to. It is much more interesting to have her on your side.”

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨