While Theo would have liked to spend the day in the kitchen, he had no doubt his father would make good of his threat to send him off immediately if it came to his knowledge that Theo was baking. So instead, early the next morning, he allowed Freya to drag him down to the training area to practice his non-existent fighting skills.

  “What’s the point?” Theo asked. “It’s not like I’m going to become a master fighter in a day.”

  “You will never be a master fighter,” Freya said with a snort. “At most, you’ll be mediocre. But even a few hours today is better than nothing. And it’s not like we haven’t trained before.”

  Unfortunately, that was true. Most of the bruises Theo had ever gotten were from these training sessions. There was always some glittering of humor in Freya’s eyes whenever she got a hit in.

  Theo sighed. “Where do you want me? And do I get a weapon?”

  “Grab a training sword,” Freya said.

  “Not the real thing when we’re going out to face real dangers?”

  Freya gave him an unimpressed look. “I’d rather you not cut yourself the day before we’re going out to face dragons and who knows what else in the wilderness.”

  “Your belief in my capabilities is astounding,” Theo muttered.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Good. Now get into position,” Freya said.

  The weight of the training sword wasn’t unfamiliar in Theo’s hand, but it had never become comfortable. It wasn’t like Freya, who looked like she had been born with a sword in hand; with her, it looked like the sword was the continuation of her arm, and she could control it just as well as she could control her fingers.

  They began, moving back and forth. Freya used a training sword too, and they clanked against each other. She was far from giving it her all—if she did, Theo would lose within twelve seconds—and she even allowed for Theo to get a hit in every now and then.

  “Do you think—the bad guys out there will—be lenient?” Theo asked between gasps of breath as he parried Freya as best he could.

  Freya shrugged and when she answered, it was with the calm of someone sitting on a couch having a normal conversation. “No, but would you really prefer me to do my best?”

  He shook his head and that quick motion was enough for her to get a hit in, the training sword hacking into his shoulder, eliciting a groan from Theo.

  “Focus, Theo,” Freya said. “You can’t afford to be distracted.”

  Theo straightened up, repositioning his grip on the training sword. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who feels like his arm is going to fall off.”

  Freya raised an eyebrow. “Complaining already? We’ve barely started.”

  Theo gave a weak chuckle. “Maybe you could just fight the dragons for me. I can bake them a cake.”

  Freya snorted, her lips twitching upwards. “Even if the dragons have a sweet tooth, you need to learn how to protect yourself. You can’t always rely on someone else.”

  “I know, I know,” Theo said, panting. “It’s just—” He broke off, catching her next swing with a clumsy block. “I’m not like you, Freya. This isn’t my thing.”

  Her expression hardened, the brief humor vanishing. “Do you think I was born knowing how to do this? That it was easy for a woman to become a knight? I learned, because I had to. Because I’m not going to fail at protecting those I love again—”

  She broke off abruptly, her hand coming up to touch the thin silver pendant she always wore on a chain around her neck. When Theo stared at her, surprised at her sharing even the littlest bit of herself and her past, she got another hit in, this time driving the tip of her sword into his stomach. He doubled over, losing his grip on the training sword.

  “If that had been a real sword, your guts would be on the ground now,” Freya said, voice hard.

  Theo gasped for breath. “I—I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Just do better,” she said, shaking her head and tightening the grip on her sword. “You have the luxury of training in safety—use it. Don’t complain like you’ve done every time so far.”

  They resumed their sparring, the clanks of the swords echoing in the training area the only sound. Theo tried to focus, to move with more precision, but his muscles ached, and his breaths came in ragged gasps. Freya’s strikes, though controlled, still stung with every impact.

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  Finally, with his lungs burning, Theo held up his hand, hoping she would listen and give him a short break.

  “You’re the best knight in Astoria,” he said. “Can’t you take it a little easy?”

  Freya snorted. “And how long do you think I’ll stay the best if I ‘take it easy’? The male knights are stronger than me to start with—I have to do twice as much to keep up with them, and thrice as much to be better than them.”

  Theo swallowed hard, understanding dawning. Freya had a relentless drive that he had never fully understood—perhaps this quest had her unsettled, and that was why she was sharing more than before. And they hadn’t even left yet…

  Who were the people who had died, whom she couldn’t protect?

  “I’ll try harder,” he promised, raising his sword again, even though it was heavy, like someone had tied invisible rocks to it. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

  Freya’s gaze softened just a fraction. “You’re not a burden, Theo—Your Highness. You’re a prince. And one day, you’ll be a king. You need to be strong for your people, but lucky for you, it’s a different sort of strength than brute force and swordsmanship.”

  They continued, Theo pushing through his exhaustion, determined to prove himself. Freya offered occasional corrections, her tone an odd mixture of stern and encouraging. Theo’s movements were still clumsy, but he managed to land a few hits, drawing a nod of approval from Freya.

  “See? When you actually apply yourself, you get better,” she said, stepping back and lowering her sword. “I just wish you hadn’t wasted so much time before.”

  “Yeah,” Theo said. “Sorry about that.”

  “What did I tell you about sorry? We can’t change the past. Just—”

  “Just do better,” Theo finished. He collapsed onto a nearby bench, wiping sweat from his brow.

  Freya sheathed her practice sword and crossed her arms, a small smile playing on her lips. “Remember, Theo, this isn’t just about swinging a sword. It’s about protecting what you care about. And sometimes, that means doing things you don’t want to do.”

  Theo frowned at her. “All right.”

  Freya looked at him for a moment, then clapped him on the shoulder. “Good. Now, go wash up and have a rest. We have a long journey ahead of us starting tomorrow, and you’ll need all the strength you can muster.”

  ***

  That afternoon, Theo, Ariana, and Freya spent in the library. Reading the dusty scrolls and ancient tomes of the Brightfell castle library was not what Theo wanted to spend doing his last afternoon in the castle for the foreseeable future (possibly ever, but he didn’t like to think about that), but Freya had forced him.

  “You need to know a little about the world before we go out into it,” she’d said, and there was no arguing.

  So now Theo had read up on dragons (intelligent, dominant, prone to spewing fire, were loners or in clans, and usually kept to themselves, except once upon a time when they’d been at war with everyone because they all decided to go simultaneously mad), dwarves (skilled craftsmen particularly at making weapons, gruff according to Freya who’d met two), forest sprites (mischievous but generally harmless), and stone giants (massive beings of rock, protectors of the earth, but about as intelligent as rocks, too). There were others too, but by the end of it, Theo’s mind was whirling.

  And then Ariana had found a book on magic, and though there Theo, like everyone else, knew there hadn’t been anyone in Astoria born with any magic to speak of in the last fifty years, he was curious. The book was so old it was falling apart not just at the seams, but everywhere, and he and Ariana read it together. Theo’s attention caught on a page filled with small text in red ink, and he read through it.

  “Oh, I think this is a prophecy,” he said as he finished. “Do we care about prophecies?”

  “Only if they pertain to mad dragons,” Freya said without looking up.

  “It doesn’t.”

  “There’s your answer.”

  Theo frowned. “It’s about the wicked witch, though. Didn’t Duchess Rosewick say that there were rumors she might be behind the dragons’ madness?”

  Ariana leaned slightly forward, glancing at Freya before focusing on Theo. “What does it say? Would you read it?”

  Theo nodded and read aloud. “From mortal roots, a witch is born,

  Her mother lost, her father fled

  In orphan’s care, her power scorned,

  She flees, destruction in her stead

  Through villages she roams in fear,

  Her hidden magic breaks control

  A town in ashes, she disappears

  To forest deep, she flees alone

  Her shielded home, time’s flow defied,

  Ageless she waits as decades pass

  Strangers breach her sanctum’s side,

  Their coming shakes her spell at last

  An amulet’s might with hers combines,

  To crystal form her flesh refines

  Her life force fades, her spirit unwinds,

  From embers, a new dawn realigns.”

  Ariana’s eyes widened, and she wrapped her arms around herself as if to ward off a chill. “Yes, that is the wicked witch. You’ve heard the tale, have you not, Your Highness?”

  Theo gave a small nod. “I’m sure everyone has. The witch killed her mother when she came into the world, and then her father didn’t want her.”

  Ariana nodded. “She was sent to an orphanage, but after she did horrible things there, they sent her off. Then she burned down a whole village, killed several villagers, and disappeared.” She hesitated. “My mother told me the tale often.”

  “Why would your mother tell you that story often?” Theo grimaced, because it was horrible.

  “She said her mother told it to her when she was young,” Ariana said, gaze to the open page before her. “She said I should learn from it. That magic is evil and that I should be a good girl.”

  Theo frowned. “Your mother has some very weird ideas about what stories to learn from.”

  “But there’s no one with magic in this kingdom anyway,” Freya said, surprising Theo by contributing to the conversation. “No one else has been born with magic since the witch was born, so why scare you with the story?”

  Ariana shrugged, her hair falling in front of her face.

  They continued to delve into the various texts, Theo occasionally reading passages aloud while Freya and Ariana listened. The more they read, the more they realized the complexity and danger of their upcoming quest.

  When they decided enough was enough, Freya turned to Theo. “We should discuss packing, too.”

  “I’ll pack whatever you tell me to,” Theo said. “And cookies.”

  Freya rolled her eyes.

  Tomorrow. Tomorrow, they would leave Brightfell behind, and before nightfall, they would probably have left Astoria, too. Theo would be farther away from home than ever before, off on a quest to talk to dragons. He wasn’t sure he was up for it.

  No, scratch that. He was entirely certain he wasn’t up for it.

  But he had to.