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The man blocking my path on his sportbike, which was about one and a half more expensive than mine, took off his helmet and pierced me with black eyes that shone with pleasure and adrenaline.

«Who are you?» I called out to him.

«I am the one who guards your father’s peace!» he replied with a wry haughty grin as he slid down from his «iron horse», «he is waiting for you at home. And I am instructed to see you off,» he announced and took a few steps towards me.

«What makes you think that I will obey you?» I asked mockingly, and when I wanted to put on a protective helmet again, I felt that someone had enclosed my hands on both sides in their tenacious grip.

«Your father asked us to bring you to him,» an emotionless male voice called from above me, «we are allowed to bring you by force.»

I turned around and found two guards from my father’s armory. Assessing the opportunity to practice one of my new fighting moves on them, I knew that I would be the loser, despite the fact that the third (the one on the bike) had a rather frail physique and looked like he had been drinking only water for several weeks.