After a full minute, the hall became noticeably quieter.
“Why isn’t she getting up?” one of the contestants whispered, no longer smiling.
“I have no idea,” her companion replied.
Two minutes passed.
Eleanor was still there.
Sweat appeared on her forehead. Her fingers trembled slightly, but she continued looking directly at the prince.
Another minute passed.
Now nobody was laughing.
Slowly, the prince rose from his throne and descended the steps toward Eleanor.
He could see that she was struggling, but he also noticed something else. She wasn’t begging him to stop the challenge, nor was she trying to gain his sympathy.
Finally, the prince extended his hand toward her.
“That’s enough.”
He helped Eleanor stand and then turned to face the other women.
“I did not organize this challenge to discover which of you is the most beautiful,” he announced. “There are already more than enough beautiful women in this room.”
Everyone remained silent.
“I wanted to discover who could remain composed when faced with a difficult challenge, who could persevere when everyone expected her to fail, and who would refuse to be broken by the cruelty of others.”
