Ajo could not have guessed the endless parade of responsibilities that would begin upon his return.

Nor could he have imagined how fleeting his stolen moments with Galeia would be.

Now he was expected to take on the duties of his impending title, which were far more consuming than his childhood studies had ever been. Hours were spent composing speeches, preparing the castle for arriving dignitaries, and reading countless documents before passing judgment.

And all the complaints and problems of the kingdom's citizens needed tending to.

In addition, he had two weeks to oversee and execute plans for the ball to honor his return, where the date of his kingship and wedding would be announced.

Then there was the actual coronation and wedding to prepare for.

Ajo felt it a little extravagant to hold two separate events, but he did not question the way of things.

His sole desire was to return to Galeia's side, but the ever-growing pile of obligations ate away the day until the sun dropped from the sky and it was time for dinner. When he joined the table he apologized to Galeia for his prolonged absence, and to his relief she was not upset, but delighted to have him present for the meal.

"We could open some of the gifts I brought after dinner," Ajo offered to make amends.

"There are matters that need your attention," the Queen interrupted. "But I'm sure Galeia won't mind opening her gifts privately and thanking you later."

Ajo looked at his mother, shocked, but did not argue.

The next days were spent in ceaseless work, and for all his effort Ajo could not find a single moment to spare for anything else. Long nights gave way to early mornings, and Ajo had not left his desk in the study once, but took his meals and sleep atop piles of parchment and quills.

One night while he was alone Galeia came to him, but Ajo did not stop scribbling when she entered the room.

"Ajo."

He jerked his head up, his eyes red and bleary. For all his muscles, he looked weak, and his appearance was distressing.

"You need fresh air to restore your energy," she said gently.

Ajo huffed. "What I need is more hours in a day to swim this ocean before me."

Galeia sat on the edge of the table.

"Save it for another time. The moon is full. Will you run with me through the woods?"

"You don't understand. I have to finish. If I don't, I cannot be a good king."

"What's so important about being king anyway?"

It was a playful jab, not an honest question, but Ajo had barely slept in several days, and his mind was split between a hundred different tasks.

"What's so important?" He spat the words with venom. "What's so important about protecting my subjects? Or maintaining alliances that are always on the verge of crumbling, so we're not plunged into war? What's so important about ensuring our kingdom doesn't fall into chaos and ruin?"

"I didn't mean it like that, Ajo—"

"I don't expect you to understand how significant my work is. But I wish you would respect it. As king, I'm in charge of everything. I can't be frittering in the woods all day like you."

"Is that all I do?"

Ajo motioned to the pile before him. "I don't see your writing on these parchments."

"I see."

Galeia rose from the table and gave a short curtsy.

"Goodnight, your highness."

***

His dreams were plagued by fields of quills and trees of rolled scrolls. Rivers of ink ran between them, and Ajo walked a world of paper and feather, scrambling to read and sign everything in sight.

When the Queen mentioned that the ball to honor his return was a few days away, it dawned on Ajo that he'd been home for almost two weeks—and he'd spent the entire time locked away. His arms and fingers were stained with ink and his body was sore and stiff from too much sitting. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen Galeia, and he realized with horror that he'd barely spared a thought for her.

He stood and stretched, his muscles on fire and his bones heavy as boulders. A painful tingling bit his body as it woke up.

"Where are you going?" his mother asked.

"To find Galeia," Ajo replied, blinking dust from his lashes. "Where is she?"

"In the woods, I assume."

"I will go to her now."

"Do you think that's wise with all this work to be done?"

"Yes," he said sternly. "I think it's the wisest thing in the world right now."

The Queen smiled. "Go then."

The sun felt divine on his skin, and Ajo discovered he had missed the kiss of it. Galeia had been right, and he'd spent too much time inside, neglecting things that were just as, if not more, important. A few hours went by and Galeia was not found, so Ajo decided to tend to another matter, a promise he had made to himself that needed to be kept.

He put his hands to his mouth. "Whooop!"

No reply came, so he did it a second time, then a third, and listened as his voice bounced through the trees. Ajo feared he had lost his friend for good, but when he began to leave for the castle he heard a rustling in the trees.

He grinned and called again.

"Whooop!"

Behind him, a raspy voice repeated the call, and when Ajo turned his eyes fell upon a familiar form sitting high in a tree.

The Gretch looked different from how he remembered her.

Gone were the leaves and twigs and mud that once blanketed her body. Now she was covered in black-furred hide, with a cape of raven feathers laid across her shoulders. Old bones and spider silk were twisted into her hair, forming a macabre headpiece topped with the skull of a crow. The sharp tip of its beak ended at the middle of her forehead.

The costume clung to her figure in an oddly flattering way, but there was a menace to it, which made her look like a large, deadly bird perched among the branches.

Despite her sinister appearance, relief washed over Ajo at the sight of his old friend. The Gretch leapt to the ground and stood at a distance from him. She had grown older, matching his age, and taller too, standing at the same height as Galeia.

"I was afraid you wouldn't answer," he greeted her.

"Almost didn't," she said curtly.

The high pitch of her voice had dropped into something deeper and more mature.

"I've come to apologize for leaving things the way I did. For going away without making amends."

"You never wanted to see me again."

"Clearly that's not the truth."

"You left these woods," she noted with a hint of resentment. "I could not see you."

"Yes, I left my kingdom."

"Why?"

"I had to undertake a trial."

"I don't like that word. It sounds sharp."

"It was a good thing."

"What about your lady? Did you miss her—on your trial?"

"Of course."

"Did you miss me more?"

Ajo tensed. He didn't want to lie.

"I missed you differently. I thought about you often. You are a dear friend to me, and I—"

"How did she feel about you leaving?" The Gretch tilted her head to the side like a curious hound.

"She accepted it with grace."

"Now you're back—how does she feel about that?"

"She's very happy."

The Gretch snorted. "Did you apologize to her?"

Ajo balked. "Why would I apologize to her?"

"For leaving."

"I don't need to apologize for that. She knows I had no choice."

"Does she?"

Ajo's jaw tightened. "She understands the duty of a king."

"Understanding and forgiving are different."

"There's nothing to forgive. I did what I had to, and so did she. I did it for her. And I'm not sorry I did it, either. It made me a worthy king."

The Gretch looked him up and down. "Are you king now?"

"I will be soon."

"And she will be queen?"

"Yes. In a few days there will be a celebration, and it will be announced when my coronation and marriage will happen. And I will speak the name of my queen."

"Celebration?"

"Dancing. Guests. Food." He hesitated. "I would like you to attend."

He wasn't sure if he extended the invitation out of friendship or forced courtesy.

The Gretch's eyes grew wide. "Come to the dancing?"

"Yes. I could ask Galeia to find you some proper attire so you wouldn't feel...different."

"I like feeling different."

"Will you come?"

"Why?"

"Because you are my friend and I haven't seen you in a long time."

"I'm your...friend?"

"Yes!"

Ajo was confused and a little hurt by the question. He didn't understand why the Gretch seemed intent on remaining argumentative.

"Haven't seen you in a long time," she echoed. "I remember you were thin and little. Now you're big. I don't know what happened. But I know I wasn't around for it."

"That's all right—"

"I knew you a long time ago, but now I do not."

"Nonsense, you still know me!"

"You changed. The woods have changed, too. Only a fool does not see it."

"I don't care to be called a fool."

"And you won't be, I imagine, as king."

"Why are you acting this way? I came to make things right between us. I want things to be as they were before—"

"You go and be king," the Gretch said. "Have your dancing and your lady. But things will never be as they were before. Things change, prince-king. We change with them. We have to."

With a sweep of her cape the Gretch disappeared, leaving Ajo lost for words.

***

He had upset the Gretch—how?

She acted coldly towards him the moment they saw each other. Was she still harboring resentment towards him?

Plenty of time had passed, more than enough for the Gretch's anger to have eased. If she chose to cling to it, there was little Ajo could do except muse on how childish it was. Still, it unsettled him, for he didn't recall her being so hateful.

An upsetting thought nagged him.

If Galeia was the Gretch, was this her way of saying that she was angry for him leaving?

Galeia knew he didn't have a choice.

His reunion with the Gretch soured his mood, so he returned to the study and dove back into work, but his mind questioned whether or not the Gretch—and perhaps Galeia—hated him for nothing. He scowled and let the soft scratching of the quill across parchment take him away from his grim thoughts.

***

"Good morning." 

Galeia's voice roused him from a sea of ink and words.

She was carrying a silver tray with food and drink, and when she saw his state she grew visibly concerned.

"Have you not slept?"

He ignored the question. "Is that breakfast?"

She set the tray on the table and crossed her arms.

"You've been eating all your meals here. I wanted to see you, and I figured this was the only way."

Ajo sat back in his chair and his body screamed at the sudden use of sleeping muscles.

"Thank you."

"It's like our childhood," Galeia said. Her tone was not nostalgic, but regretful. "This looks a bit more involved."

"It is."

"Is this what it will be like when you're king?"

The thought punched Ajo in the stomach.

"I hope not."

"I've never known mother to have such burdens."

"She had years to perfect it. I'm still learning."

"Do you think you could spare some time to join me in the woods today?"

"I'm sorry, there's so much work."

He reached out to touch her hand but she pulled away.

"I understand."

"All I want is to spend time with you."

"You say that..." she began and trailed off.

The door opened and servants poured in, their arms full of scrolls. Anger rose in Ajo, but he knew there was nothing he could do to stop the procession.

"Your highness," one of the servants began, "we must have your answer for—"

"I know, I know."

He looked at Galeia.

"I've learned there is one that rules over a king after all: The people."

He hoped she would smile but she moved to leave.

"Don't forget me," she commanded sadly.

***

Questions and demands rushed in and out.

All Ajo could feel was scratchy parchment. All he could smell was ink.

He was alone, bent over a letter, leaning so close that a smear of black touched his nose.

The door opened and Galeia entered holding a basket.

"Midday snack," she announced.

Ajo did not speak but continued to write.

Galeia frowned. "You're exhausted."

When she approached, Ajo did not lift his head.

"I asked mother—well, begged her, to let you free for a bit. She finally agreed, so I thought we could have a meal outside."

The reply was the scribbling of a quill.

"You need sun to restore your energy. It's not good to be locked in here all day and night."

She reached out and placed a hand on Ajo's shoulder.

"I'm worried—"

Ajo jumped back violently.

He looked at her through bloodshot, bewildered eyes.

"What is it?" he asked in a rasp.

"Have you not heard anything I've said?"

His mind was already a thousand miles away. He grunted and turned back to his work.

"Stop for a moment, Ajo. Come with me."

He continued to write.

"Ajo," she said firmly. "Ajo—stop writing this instant!"

She moved to take the quill but he jerked from her grasp.

His mouth twisted into a snarl.

"I have to finish this!" he snapped. "Leave me to work in peace, damn it!"

Galeia's fists curled and she moved to the door.

"You said you wouldn't forget me," she spat. Her expression softened. "I need to tell you something."

He did not notice when she left.

***

Ajo raised his head from a pillow made of scrolls.

He didn't remember falling asleep. There was a dull ache in his face from pressing his cheek into the desk, but he felt slightly refreshed, a little more like himself after a long nap. He rubbed his cheek and sat up with a long groan. He had smeared the ink of his latest letter in his sleep, and he bemoaned the fact that he would have to start it over.

It could wait.

He needed to find Galeia. He looked at the basket of food she left behind, and the memory of yelling at her flickered in his mind.

Shame filled him. He couldn't continue this way. If he had to choose between a throne or his heart, the decision was easy.

It was only when he stepped into the empty halls of the castle that Ajo recognized it was night. He wandered aimlessly, idling under the dim torches and passing several sleeping guards.

He did not begrudge them their rest.

He was not surprised when he found himself in front of Galeia's bedroom door. He held up his fist, ready to knock, but thought better of it. Galeia would be asleep, and to disturb her at so late an hour would not only be improper, but downright rude.

He pressed his palm against the door and exhaled. After a moment he left, ready to settle into bed.

When he saw the familiar space of his bedroom he realized he'd barely been in it for more than a few minutes since returning home, and hadn't taken a proper night's rest in his own bed.

Sleep did not find him easily, despite the fatigue that gnawed at his mind and body. He rose from his bed and began to unpack the bags that had been carried there by servants, a long-overdue chore he hadn't found the time for yet. He was arranging the knick-knacks and trophies gained through his adventures around the room when he noticed a book laying on his table.

Brown paper hid the silver dragon on its cover, but it had torn at the edges, giving a peek of green beneath. He'd been unable to take it with him on his King's Trial, having been stripped of his possessions, and the book remained exactly where he had left it.

He'd almost forgotten about it.

Ajo sat to peruse its pages. There were the poems and drawings he had crafted as a child, his monument of love, dedicated to Galeia.

It had once been his most valued possession, but now it was a relic of childhood—though the words it contained were still as true they had been before.

He wondered if anyone had looked inside while he was away.

There were a handful of empty pages at the end, and Ajo had an urge to write in them and conclude the book.

To finish the story he began as a boy now that he was a man.

But he was exhausted, and his hand had no interest in picking up another quill so soon, so he set the book aside and reminded himself to return to it at a later time.

It would make a lovely wedding present, he thought.

Ajo rose early the next morning and made his way to his mother's chambers.

The Queen was already awake and sitting at a small table set with fruit and cheese, reading from an ancient book of philosophy.

When her son entered her room she embraced him and gestured to an empty chair beside her.

"Good morning," she said as Ajo took his seat.

"I've not much time," Ajo began abruptly. "I'm sorry, mother, but all this work has gotten the better of me. I snapped at Galeia yesterday."

"I heard."

"I've wanted nothing but to be near her, but I've had no time for it."

"Yes."

"I want to make you proud. I want to be a good king. But my life cannot be lived behind a desk. I must have more than decrees and letters." He paused. "I need Galeia."

He hoped his mother's disappointment would not be too great.

"I don't know what this means...for my throne. But I'm prepared, if it must be this way, to take back my claim as ruler."

"And what if I tell you that's exactly what it means? That you will give up your birthright?"

"So be it. I don't want it if it means treating Galeia the way I did yesterday. She's more important than ruling."

The Queen contemplated his answer for a long moment.

Her mouth broke into a wide grin.

"At last," she said. "I thought you'd never come around!"

Ajo gaped at her. "What do you mean?"

"You've learned there's more to being a monarch than treaties and letters."

"But—you told me the work was necessary!"

"It is. And so are other things. Part of a king's duty is to understand what is most important at any given moment. A difficult lesson for some, though I never imagined it would take you so long to learn it!"

"I thought...I was being a good king. I was showing I was worthy."

"A king must prove himself worthy, but so should a husband. They both have duties. It is not a lesson I could have taught. You had to learn it on your own." She shook her head, but there was amusement in her eyes. "Every new land you visited, every tribe and colony and castle—they all had a test for you, didn't they? You never considered that your final one would be here, at the last kingdom you came to?"

"But—the celebration! And the treaties...what if they don't—"

"It's your celebration, Ajo. Does it matter what color the tapestries are?"

He didn't want to lie. "Not really."

"And is it necessary that you decide whether the spoons are made from dwarven silver or goblin tin?"

"Of course not."

"Which is more important: What kind of flowers climb the castle walls for your guests to admire—or spending time with Galeia?"

"Galeia."

The Queen gave him a pointed look.

"You will be king. You will decide what is important and what can be delegated to others. What must be dealt with immediately or finished some other day. I reminded you of your work and made sure it kept coming, but I was waiting for the moment you would figure out that a king will not be told what to do. Do not be disheartened, for all royalty have their obstacles, and there is a certain knowledge that comes only from experience. You've spent years being a hero and doing everything right. It was time to learn from the other side. From failure."

"Being a hero was easy," he mumbled.

"Yes, and if brave deeds were the only thing that made a king, many creatures could do it. But knowing how to fail and rise from it—that is the mark of a good ruler. You will make many missteps as king. How you correct them will show the truth of you."

"Have you failed?"

The Queen laughed. "More times than I care to admit."

Ajo's heart lightened.

"Then...I release the preparations for my ball to others," he said. "And as for the treaties and speeches, they will wait. I will not lift a finger in work today. Or tomorrow. I will spend my time with Galeia."

"A wise decision. Your enthroning impacts her as much as it does you. It will change both of your lives. Remember that."

His steps were light as he moved to leave.

"Ajo," the Queen called after him. "The next time you feel overwhelmed, do not try to keep the world on your shoulders. Knowing when to ask for help is not a weakness, but a virtue."

Ajo left his mother and went directly to Galeia's bedroom door.

Nothing would stop him from making things right—except the silence that met him when he knocked. It was abnormal for Galeia not to be in her room at such an hour, but Ajo assumed she had risen early and would be present for breakfast.

He was wrong.

The table where they took their meals was empty, with no sign that anyone had been there at all. He searched the castle and its courtyard with no success.

The life of day was waking around him, and the familiar commotion of the woods mingled with his voice calling for Galeia. But every path he took, every direction he went, none held a trace of her presence.

He returned to the castle and went to the stables, reuniting with a well-rested Fallow. They made their way into the woods, traveling fast and far.

They relished in their freedom.

Having been buried under work, Ajo had almost forgotten the feel of wind across his face, and the thrill of Fallow's unguided and unrestrained speed.

And it felt good to be alone.

Away from the noise of the castle, unburdened of expectation.

He spent the entire day thus, riding under the sun and rediscovering the relief of solitude, and for the first time since coming home, Ajo felt like his true self.

When dusk began its approach, Ajo looked in the direction of his castle and a small guilt crept into his heart.

"Must we return to it?" he asked Fallow, feeling the animal might be the one friend who could understand why he posed such a question. "We could survive out here. We know how, don't we?" He gave a pat on the stallion's head. "It could be the two of us, running away forever."

Fallow snorted, bringing Ajo out of his reverie.

It was a fleeting fancy and nothing more.

Ajo could not leave his mother, his home, his obligations.

He couldn't leave Galeia—though it appeared she had no hesitation in doing so herself.

Night had fallen by the time Ajo closed the door to Fallow's stable and made his way into the dining hall for dinner. His hair was a tangled nest and his clothes were covered in mud and dust, but Ajo wore a contented smile.

The Queen and Galeia were already eating.

"Ajo!" his mother greeted him with surprise. "We thought you wouldn't join us."

"Forgive me," he said, "my forest ride got the better of me." He turned to Galeia. "Now I understand why it always tortured you to be pulled from the woods."

Galeia did not reply.

"Look at the state of you," the Queen said, then added with a chuckle, "Somewhat unbecoming of a king, don't you think?"

Ajo shrugged. "I'm not king yet, but when I am, I will be the one to dictate what's proper or not." He sat next to Galeia and began to fill his plate. "And I think the King of the Wood should look like it sometimes."

The Queen nodded and returned to her meal, and Ajo leaned over to whisper to Galeia.

"I was looking for you. Where did you go today?"

Galeia bristled. "I was in the woods, too."

"I didn't see you, and I went far."

"Not far enough."

After the way he had treated her, Ajo was sympathetic to her terseness. He hadn't made things right between them yet.

"I wanted to find you so I could apologize. I was unkind, and it will not happen again. I'm sorry."

When Galeia refused to look at him he took her hand and squeezed it.

"I'm sorry, Galeia," he repeated. "I promise I will never allow my duties to bury me again."

A crack formed in the stone of her expression and the tiniest smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.

"Apology accepted."

Ajo released her hand and turned to the meal.

"Where did you go?" he asked.

"You got to have your grand adventures, Ajo. To places I'll never see. I think it's fair that I keep some secrets of my own."

A playful, encouraging response, and Ajo left it at that. He wondered if Galeia found the same relief in being alone. It was a necessary thing, he concluded, for one to have a corner of privacy.

"Will you join me tomorrow? I hoped we could spend the day together."

"Yes, I would like that." She added in a gentle jest, "I wonder if you didn't become too feral out there. I barely recognized you under the mud."

"Does my wildness scare you—or make you jealous?"

"Neither. I'm delighted by it. And I'm happy you wish to spend the day with me. There is something important I need to say to you."

Ajo grinned, certain she was referring to the upcoming ball—and what it would mean when he named her as his queen.  

***

Ajo was bent over the desk in his room, pressing a quill against the last page in the book of Galeia.

He scratched a persistent itch on his chin, a spot that seemed determined to give him discomfort. No trace of beard was left, for he'd taken a blade to it after a long bath. He felt slightly naked without it, especially when the cold air hit his bare skin.

The hour was late when he touched the final dot of ink to the last word.

He sat back, tired but satisfied, and admired his writing with a sigh.

"It's finished."

The sun would rise on a new day and he would start fresh with Galeia, no longer burdened with work or doubt, and no longer lacking courage as he had in his youth.

The happiness promised him was finally within reach and nothing could take it away.

He sensed a thread of destiny gently humming in the air.

A great and wonderful change was coming.