Destrian followed the procession of noblewomen with his eyes as they exited the hall. As soon as the last girl had gone and the doors were shut, he let out a deep sigh, exhaling the breath he had been holding in. His father, who stood beside him, gave him a disapproving look. Always perfectly poised, King Merek expected the same behavior from his son— even if nobody else was watching.

“What was wrong with them this time?” the king asked, his voice tight with thinly veiled exasperation.

“They’re all… _lacking_,” Destrian said vaguely. “They’re like puppets, father. All of them. They just say what they think I’ll want to hear.”

“That’s because they’re vying for your approval,” the king replied curtly.

“But I don’t want to marry someone with no spirit of her own,” Destrian protested. “I can’t love a puppet.”

“Love has nothing to do with it,” his father’s voice was icy. He was losing patience. “I’ve told you time and time again. Each of these women comes from an important kingdom, whose alliance would greatly aid our own. Your marriage will seal the bond between the two kingdoms.” The king pinched the bridge of his nose. “It has been almost a year, Destrian. If you do not choose one of the women, I will choose for you.”

“Father, please, I—”

“Enough,” the king held up his hand. “I will give you until the end of this summer. If you have not made a decision by then, I will do it for you. That is final.” He turned and walked back down the hallway before Destrian could respond. It wasn’t like he could do anything even if he tried. His father’s word was the law. It always had been, and it always would be. He returned to his room in silence.

--

That was three days ago.

Now, Destrian was out on a hunt with a small party of knights and two servants to carry their equipment. He rode on horseback with a bow and a quiver slung over opposite shoulders. His blue eyes swept over the trees around him as he searched for signs of movement. The sport of a good hunt always managed to brighten his mood, and right now, he definitely needed the uplifting.

“Sire,” one of the knights hissed, pointing off to the left. A herd of elk was grazing among the distant trees. Everyone slowed their horses to a stop and drew their bows, but none of them let their arrows fly. In accordance with tradition, they were waiting for Destrian to take the first shot. He pulled an arrow from his quiver and loaded his bow, lifting it to take aim at one of the unsuspecting beasts. There was a soft _twang_ as he released the arrow, followed by a hoarse cry from the elk. The other animals started to scatter and the rest of Destrian’s knights let their own arrows go. There was another faint cry as one of the other knights hit his mark.

“Fine work, men,” Destrian said as he climbed down from his horse. “We’ll be eating fresh venison for days.”

He and the knights led their horses to the small clearing where they had made their kills. Three elk lay dead in the grass— the last one had an arrow through its head, so it must have died before it had a chance to utter a sound. The men hoisted the bodies onto the backs of three of their horses to carry them back to the castle.

As they were about to turn back, Destrian gave the forest one last, long look. The hunt had gone by far too quickly, and he found himself wishing that he had missed his mark so he could stay outside the kingdom walls just a little longer. Unfortunately, the title of ‘prince’ came with many responsibilities. He couldn’t neglect his duties for his own selfish reasons.

Then, something caught his eye: a brief flash of movement at the base of a tree. He frowned. Normally all of the animals in the forest would flee at the cry of a dying elk. Any that happened to be nearby should have been long gone by now. Why would one stay behind? But perhaps it wasn’t an animal at all. He had heard the rumors of wild wizards living in the woods. Maybe there was some truth to those stories after all.

“Sire?” a knight called to him hesitantly. “We’re ready to leave when you are.”

“Hold on a moment,” Destrian said without looking back. “I’m going to check something for a moment.”

“Do you want us to come with you?” the knight’s voice was filled with wariness. Of course, he wouldn’t want to leave the prince unguarded. King Merek would have them all beheaded if anything happened to his beloved son.

“I’ll be fine on my own,” Destrian said, giving the knight a challenging stare. “I can defend myself if I need to.”

“But—” the knight started.

“Enough,” Destrian cut him off. He felt a strange sense of déjà vu when he uttered the command. “Wait here. I will be back soon.” When the knight took an uneasy step forward, he continued: “I will call for you if I need assistance. Stay here.” The knight hesitated, and then gave a reluctant bow. The rest followed suit. Destrian nodded at them and ventured deeper into the forest, one hand hovering over the hilt of his sword. He heard a noise off to his left. He swiftly drew his weapon and spun around to see… a small black cat.

Destrian blinked in confusion, his face warm with embarrassment at his overreaction. He sheathed his sword and crouched down to look at the animal. It appeared to be somebody’s pet. He could tell that much from the way it didn’t flee from him. The question was: How did it end up so far away from the kingdom? He was surprised it hadn’t gotten itself eaten by a bear or other large predator.

“Just where did you come from?” Destrian murmured, holding out a tentative hand to the black cat.