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All seemed to be going well, yet undefined worry loomed over him.

In truth, the worry was more defined than he would admit.

By all rights, his betrothal to Helena should provide security and confidence.

In less than three weeks, he would turn fifteen, and all impediments to his marriage to Helena would be cleared. But nothing felt right.

Late one afternoon, the grand duke unexpectedly showed up to watch his son’s jousting match.

Pleased by Kazik’s quick victory, he helped rub down Borys, who liked to lean on whoever cleaned his hoofs.

While patting the big horse, Kazik’s father asked, “So, I had many excellent conversations with Angelika while visiting up north, getting to know her better. Such an intelligent, accomplished young woman! Isn’t she a beauty? ”

“Who? Oh, you mean my cousin Angelika?” Kazik knew better than to voice the descriptive words that first popped into his head, namely “harpy” and “termagant,” but even his toned-down answer, “I find my cousin brittle and contentious,” made his father’s grin vanish.

“Nonsense. She’s an angel, like her name. A strong and beautiful young woman who knows her own mind.”

Kazik knew he couldn’t argue the point without causing a row, so he settled for “If you say so.”

His father let the subject drop, but his expression and manner were a stinging rebuke.

That evening at supper, his mother brought up inviting Helena and her father for a visit to coordinate wedding plans. “Kazik will be fifteen very soon, and I’m sure the children won’t welcome any unnecessary delays.” Her tone and smile warmed Kazik’s heart.

The grand duke spoke directly to Kazik. “Nonsense. You have no spare time, and your betrothed is far too busy acquiring her trousseau to travel here for a visit.”

Madame Euzebia frowned. “You did say that he could marry at fifteen, Warin. Wedding plans should be farther along than they are, but I’m sure Helena won’t mind building her wardrobe after the wedding.”

When she found a private moment with him, Kazik’s mother whispered, “Keep your chin up. I’m doing all that I can at present to ensure your happiness. Helena will be true.”

At a loss for words, Kazik simply nodded.

He did trust Helena to be true. And he trusted his mother to find a way.

In the strength of her encouragement, he threw himself even further into his studies and military training, and he practiced more patience, in his opinion, than should be required by any young man’s parents.

Finally, just when he’d begun to think the day would never come, his mother assured him that Helena and King Ryszard would arrive in time for the melee weekend, the biggest military exercise of the season. Kazik’s heart was too full for words, but his mother understood.

Taking advantage of the extended evening light, he headed to the archery range and tried to work out his angst with a longbow.

Like everyone else, he had struggled with the unwieldy weapon at first, but now he could draw and shoot a seven-foot bow with better than fair accuracy.

He could also effectively wield a lance on horseback and use a sword and shield in hand-to-hand combat.

His reflexes and footwork were rapidly improving.

But he was still short.

Would Helena be pleased to watch him fight the mock battle? Would his beautiful betrothed offer him her token? He had dreamed of such a moment for years.

During this visit, he was determined to tell his golden princess how much he loved her even though just thinking about saying those words made his throat tighten until he could hardly breathe. What if she laughed? He knew his fears were ridiculous—Helena liked him. Maybe she even loved him.

And she deserved to know his feelings for her before they married.

He wanted to declare his love with no discouraging audience (namely his father) around to coldly inform them that such emotion was unnecessary, possibly even unhealthy, in a marriage.

Kazik also wanted no unsolicited observers around to laugh if his voice cracked, which it still did when he got nervous.

He had no idea how to guarantee a happy marriage.

He couldn’t ask his parents—he would die before discussing private things with either of them.

Also, their marriage wasn’t happy like he’d thought it was when he was a child.

A few of his peers were betrothed, but none of them talked about it other than juvenile joking and teasing.

Maybe, since military training currently took precedence over everything else in life, they were all too exhausted to care?

Or maybe, like Kazik, they cared too much and evaded teasing by avoiding the subject.

Kazik admired his tall, strong, dignified father for his intelligence and his courage and skill in the political arena. And until recently, the grand duke had represented responsibility and the importance of living with purpose and integrity.

But now his father’s relationships with friends and subjects—even with his wife—seemed strained, cold, and artificial.

Had he changed that much, or was the change only in Kazik’s perspective?

The grand duke frequently vanished for hours, even days at a time, yet Kazik’s magic revealed that his father was still on the castle grounds, concealed by magic.

The possibility that not only unlawful but downright evil magic was involved made him feel sick inside.

After shooting his last huge arrow, he approached the distant target to evaluate his success and collect his arrows.

Not perfect, but good at such a distance in tricky lighting.

The memory of teaching Helena to shoot made him smile.

Maybe she would appreciate a high-quality new bow and quiver as a wedding gift?

But he seriously needed to focus on his training.

In just a few days, he and other trainees near his age and rank would finally take part in the annual melee—a practice war in an enclosed arena—and Kazik suspected his peers all shared the same blend of excitement and dread he experienced.

They would battle with practice swords, not sharpened steel weapons, but wooden swords could cause bodily harm. The danger was real.

Kazik desperately hoped Helena would arrive in time to watch him fight. Or . . . she might witness his annihilation in the battle’s opening moments.

No matter. If he were “killed,” she might worry, and maybe even kiss him.

After all, daydreams do occasionally come true.