“I what?” Theo asked, heart stuttering in his chest.

  “You, bride, marriage, heirs to the throne,” his father said, waving his hands like this was utterly unimportant.

  “Marriage?” Theo echoed, feeling the blood drain from his face. “I don’t want to marry.”

  “Your next birthday is your twenty-first,” his father said in a tone like they were discussing dinner. “It is customary for the prince to marry at twenty-one at the latest, so it really is time.”

  “But that’s next year—”

  “But don’t worry,” his father interrupted, as if Theo hadn’t spoken. “I even have someone in mind.”

  Theo’s mind came to a screeching halt. “What? But father, I—”

  To a servant, his father said, “Bring them in.”

  Theo clasped his hands behind his back in order to not show how much his hands trembled.

  His heart sank when he saw Duchess Rosewick, one of the high ladies of the court, entering the room. Duchess Rosewick was his father’s age, tall and beautiful with hair that had once been all black but now held thin streaks of gray. Golden earrings glittered in the candlelight, and around her neck, on a golden chain, hung a gaudy lilac gemstone—but its color only made her appear more monochrome. She had always been thin, but lately, she had become almost spindly in her appearance, and the long, black dress with glittering dark gems that reflected the light of the candelabras hung off her. Her husband, Duke Rosewick, had died a few months prior—that must be why she had lost so much weight.

  Theo knew all too well that grief made people not want to eat.

  Before her, Duchess Rosewick pushed her daughter, Ariana, who was a girl Theo had known all his life. While Theo couldn’t say they were best friends—Ariana had always kept herself apart a bit too much to be called that—she was certainly his friend. The only friend he had, really, since there weren’t many children among the Astorian nobility, and his father had always been against him befriending commoners.

  Ariana was a year younger than him, pretty but terribly shy and withdrawn, her long black hair hanging in front of her face like a curtain to hide behind. Theo thought of her as more like a cousin, someone he had known since they were both in diapers, than as someone he would marry.

  Her mother took up all the space in that part of the room, as if sucking the oxygen out of the air.

  “Under sky, we meet, Your Majesty,” the duchess said, a deep curtsy accompanying the greeting, as if they hadn’t already been in the castle for weeks.

  “Yes, yes,” the king said, giving her a dismissive wave as he kept speaking to Theo. “It will be an excellent match. Duke Rosewick’s power and influence, married with ours.”

  “Of course, Your Majesty,” Duchess Rosewick said, bowing her head. “My husband would be pleased, as am I.”

  The king ignored her. “The betrothal will be made public once you return victorious.”

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  Suddenly, the idea of being burnt to a crisp wasn’t as frightening. Perhaps that was what his father intended all along, though Theo doubted it.

  “So,” he said, but it sounded like a frog had gotten stuck in his throat, so he had to stop and clear it. “So just go talk to dragons and keep them from killing me—I mean, everyone—and then come back here and get married to Ariana.”

  Was that what it would take to make his father proud? Would he then ease up and look at Theo with something other than disdain?

  There was a challenge in his father’s eyes. “Unless you have someone better suited?”

  Theo held back another sigh. No, he didn’t. How could he, when he barely interacted with girls his own age? And when he did, he was no ladies’ man, nor did he try to be. He had hoped to put off the whole marriage-thing for at least another few years.

  “My daughter will be an excellent wife and queen,” Duchess Rosewick said. “Our family has always been loyal to the crown.”

  King Frederick regarded her for a moment, then nodded. “You have. Your husband was a true Astorian and his death was a significant loss to our kingdom.”

  Duchess Rosewick stood straighter. “Rest assured that I will also do everything for this kingdom. Your Majesty, you can always count on me, especially in these hard times.”

  “Hard times?”

  “I’ve heard about the dragons, Your Majesty,” Duchess Rosewick said, moving closer to them. “There are whispers about the wicked witch being behind it all.”

  “Theodore will bring clarity to these rumors,” the king said.

  “The wicked witch?” Theo asked. The wicked witch hadn’t been heard from in fifty years…

  Both his father and the duchess ignored him.

  “Of course he will,” Duchess Rosewick said, taking another step forward, so that she was standing right in front of the king. “But for all of this to be happening so soon after the queen’s death…”

  Theo tried his best to ignore the sharp pang of grief that passed through him (now was not the time to cry again) and glanced at his father, trying to gauge his reaction. No one talked about the queen’s death with the king—it was like Theo’s father wanted to pretend none of the last few months had happened at all. His father clenched his jaws, his nostrils flaring, and for a second Theo thought (hoped) he would actually say something. Then, as if able to just let it go, like pouring water out of a bucket, he relaxed and made a humming noise. It was impossible to know if it was an agreement or not.

  Disappointment flashed across Duchess Rosewick’s face. In a second it was gone, replaced by a mask of cool indifference. Theo frowned. Did she want to upset the king?

  “Forgive me, Your Majesty,” she said, her voice softer now. “I merely want to be supportive.”

  She reached out to touch him, but the king stepped back.

  Theo’s father turned back to Theo. “Then everything is settled. You leave tomorrow.”

  “T-tomorrow?” Theo asked. “But can’t we wait—I need time to prepare—”

  The king regarded him with the look of someone who was forced to suffer fools all day long. “Will a day more really make that much of a difference? Or will it merely give you more time to bake?”

  “I—I could train with Freya,” Theo said. “And read up on dragons.”

  His father’s eyes narrowed. “Very well. One day—but you do not spend that time in the kitchen, or I will immediately send you out, you understand?”

  Theo pressed his lips together and nodded.

  “Good. Now go play with Ariana. I need to speak with Duchess Rosewick.” He waved a dismissive hand at Theo.

  Play? Theo wanted to ask. Did his father think they were five years old?

  But he forced a smile, straightening, and said, “Yes, Father.”

  Duchess Rosewick looked like the cat who ate the cream at the prospect of being alone with the king. Was she… interested in his father? Theo shuddered at the thought of her as a stepmother.

  He glanced at Ariana and caught her dark gaze hidden behind her hair.

  “Coming?” he asked.

  She gave a barely noticeable nod, though her eyes flitted to Freya. They had met before, of course, but Ariana had always been careful around the tall, muscular knight.

  “Don’t worry, she doesn’t bite,” Theo said, touching his hand lightly to Ariana’s shoulder.

  “How do you know?” Freya asked evenly, with one eyebrow arched. What was it with everyone and their superior control over their eyebrows? Theo had missed the class on eyebrow control. Perhaps he should practice in front of the mirror.