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about the outcome. He used to be a master at not worrying. He wondered if he still could. He fell asleep with the question still echoing in his mind.
    H e woke a few hours later to find a large, callused, and meaty hand clamped over his mouth. Charming was slightly alarmed to see a shadowy Will leaning over him.
    â€œShhh,” whispered Will, slowly removing his hand. “Come with me.”
    Still half-­asleep, Charming did as he was instructed, shutting the door quietly behind him so as not to wake Liz.
    Will was dressed and had his sword belted to his side. A few candles had been lit in the kitchen, and they threw a wavering light about the room. “Get dressed,” said Will, indicating a pile of Charming’s work clothing sitting on a chair.
    Though the cobwebs were still thick in his mind, Charming knew that whatever was happening was a bad idea, particularly if Will had any intention of sending him out in those clothes. “Wait,” he said. “What are we doing?”
    â€œIsn’t it obvious? I’ve saddled both horses. We are leaving,” said Will.
    â€œNo, Will, we should wait until daylight. If you insist on going, I’ll wake Liz. Besides, I would never wear that shirt with those tights.”
    He half turned to go back to the bedroom.
    â€œNo, you won’t,” ordered Will, placing a hand on the hilt of his sword.
    Charming was now awake, and the edge of anger pawed at him. “Will, brother or not, please don’t threaten me in my own home. I place a high value on hospitality.”
    â€œI’m not threatening you, Charming. I’m telling you not to wake her,” Will said, his voice assuming a measure of command that Charming was unaccustomed to. “This I do not as your brother or friend, but as your King. You will journey with me, and you will teach me how to kill the dragon.”
    In that instant, Charming was no longer Edward Charming the man, but Edward Charming the boy, and he faced his father, King Rupert. Years of memories and training flooded through him and warred in his breast against what he knew was right. In the end, his duty to his King and kingdom won. This was not his brother-­in-­law. It was King William, giving him a Royal Command.
    It was only later when Charming was dressing himself in a set of appropriate clothes—­he had been unyielding on this point at least—­that something else King William had said struck him. He had said that Charming would teach Will how to kill the dragon. Suddenly, Charming felt sick as he realized what it was Will was really asking.
    As Charming slipped on his last boot, he asked as casually as he could, “Your Majesty, what do you intend my role to be in this quest?”
    â€œYou are going to be my squire,” Will said brightly.
    It was like a slap in the face, and Charming physically recoiled as though Will had struck him. Fortunately, Will did not seem to notice his reaction, and turning about, began picking up his pack. As Charming went through the motions of finishing his preparations, he recalled his own former squire, Tomas. He lapsed into a silence as he reevaluated both his relationship to Will and also his past treatment of Tomas and the many others who had served him.
    â€œAre you ready?” asked Will.
    Charming bit his lip and nodded. He was at the door taking one last look at the little cottage when he realized he could not leave Liz without a word. He turned back and grabbed a scrap of paper and a quill from a small writing table near the fireplace.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” Will asked irritably from the door.
    â€œI am leaving a note for Liz.”
    â€œNo,” Will said, and, crossing the room, seized the quill from him. “I don’t want her following us.”
    â€œI understand,” Charming said, and grabbed at his arm to keep him from taking the quill. “But if I don’t leave her a note, I assure you, she will