Morning came with new troubles.

After a mercifully short breakfast with the king and his court, a servant brought me to the gardens, where I was pushed toward the scowling prince.

"Yer job 'ere," snapped the servant, an old woman who looked like she'd spent most of her life displeased, "is to make sure the little prince is entertained. Play wif 'im 'til I call ye both for midday meal. And mind 'is 'ighness!"

She curtsied with a groan and left us.

The prince crossed his arms and regarded me with hateful eyes.

"Dada went hunting," he said with a sneer, "and he's going to bring me back new toys. I break them all because they're never any fun."

I stared blankly at him.

"You're no different, you know. You're not special. You're just a new toy for me to break."

He was younger than me by quite a few years, but I imagined that even if we had been the same age he would have been considerably smaller. He looked malnourished, though I knew that was impossible given the feasts of his father's hall. The upturned nose set within his bony cheeks only enhanced his brattishness, and the purple under his unhappy eyes made it look as though he'd never slept a full hour in his life. He had a few premature wrinkles around his mouth caused by constant frowning. The elegant clothes on his body, no doubt made to fit his precise measurements, hung loose on his skeletal frame, suggesting he shed weight faster than a royal tailor could keep up with.

All of this made him look like an old man wearing the costume of a child.

"Well go on," he spat, "how do you intend to entertain me, dog?"

It would have been easy to despise him, but I could find nothing but pity for the prince. His father hadn't spoken a word to him during breakfast, not even to say good morning, and left without so much as a peck on the boy's cheek. There was no warmth between them, I surmised in little time, and for that I felt sorrow.

"What would you like me to do? I can sing—"

"Turn into the beast. I prefer the dog to you." He smirked before adding, "I'll have a peasant fetch a saddle so I can ride you around the gardens. And after I'll throw a ball for you to fetch."

"No, Your Highness. That wouldn't be a good idea. The wolf does as it pleases, and I don't think it would enjoy being ridden like a horse."

Nor would you like the outcome if you tested it with your attitude, I thought but didn't speak.

"You're saying...No...to me? No?" The word seemed foreign to him. "If you don't do what I command, Dada will have you beaten in front of the whole castle."

"The wolf isn't tame. I would fear for your safety."

"Looked tame enough to take orders last night."

"Only because it was cornered and had nowhere to go."

"That can be arranged again, dog."

He raised his fist, intending to summon a guard, but paused. He must have believed I would beg him not to do so, and agree to anything he desired, but I merely stared at him, neither challenging nor giving in. He could threaten me all he wanted. The wolf was not a child's toy, and if the prince was unable to understand that our time together would be misery. There was an awkward moment of waiting before the prince lowered his hand and scoffed.

If possible, his eyes held more hate than before.

"I'm going to tell Dada you refused, and we'll see if you're alive tomorrow."

And he was done with me. He turned and began to wander the garden without a single glance back.

I had been instructed to stay with the prince, and I didn't intend to disobey that order, so I contented myself with following the boy around the courtyard, but kept my distance and trailed several feet behind him. For the better part of an hour he did nothing of note, and I turned my attention to the flowers that covered the surrounding wall, admiring their splendor and fragrance while the sun warmed my back. I imagined myself a noble taking a leisurely walk around my own garden without a care in the world.

I found it odd that the prince didn't stop to sniff one of the flowers, but remained uninterested in their beauty. He must have been used to them, bored by the blooms, for he passed every one without reaching out to graze a petal or leaf.

What a terrible thing, I thought as I plucked a pink trumpet from the wall and held it to my nose, to have such pretty things and hold no appreciation for them.

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, delighting in the sweet perfume.

What does that say about the people who grow these? How unhappy they must be be if they can't enjoy a simple—

I opened my eyes and found the prince within arm's reach, staring with his face scrunched in disgust. 

"Only peasants smell flowers," he said with a snort. "It's revolting."

Generous sweat glazed his brow, a sign that the heat was becoming too much.

"Why is it revolting?" I was genuinely curious. I wondered if there was some bizarre royal law against flowers. "Flowers are made to be admired, aren't they?"

"You sound incredibly dull."

"But why?" The prince shrugged. "That's a sad thing, not to be able to enjoy a flower."

"What do you know? You're just a dog led around by your nose."

"My sister used to make crowns from flowers. She taught me, though I was never any good at it. I could try to make you one."

"I have a real crown."

"Still...it might be fun. You could be the prince of flowers."

His scowl twitched and there was a distant hope that I had pleased him.

"Bugs live in flowers," he said, his voice rising from bitterness into hesitation. "They'll crawl out and bite me."

"I'll search every last flower for bugs and pluck them out for you."

His frown disappeared. He did not smile, but there was a softening in his features. I wondered if I was the first person to offer real kindness instead of catering to his every whim. I held the flower close to my face and examined it.

"This one has no bugs."

"What about the invisible ones?"

The question was childish, but he was serious.

"Ah, you're right. Let me feel around for the invisible ones."

I poked at the pink bloom and gently moved its petals around. Inspired to begin an innocent game, I pinched air between my fingers before holding them up.

"You were right! There was one in there, but now I've got it!"

The prince's mouth opened in surprise. He fully believed I was telling the truth.

"Squash it—quick!"

"Wait." I leaned my face down to my fingers. "It was only walking around a flower. Probably trying to find food. It didn't want to hurt us, so I won't hurt it."

I moved the imaginary bug to a flower connected to a vine.

"There you go, little bug. Thanks for not biting me. I hope your day is pleasant."

The prince huffed but did not argue against my mercy. I searched for more invisible bugs, and once I was satisfied enough time had passed I offered the bloom to the prince.

"No bugs left, not even invisible ones."

"What if you missed one?"

"I have a wolf's nose, don't I? My sense of smell is powerful. If there was a bug here I would have sniffed it out. I promise."

"You could be lying."

"I would never lie to royalty."

That swayed him and he snatched the flower from my hand. He held it in a curious way, as if he'd never touched one before.

"It's soft," he whispered.

"And it smells wonderful. Go on, have a sniff!"

The prince hesitated, then held the flower under his nose and inhaled. His eyes closed and a grin tugged at his lips.

Was this his first time smelling a flower, too? It seemed a ridiculous notion.

"I guess it's nice."

He pushed his nose further into the bloom until the petals were touching the inside of his nostrils. He inhaled deeply.

"You'll make yourself sneeze," I playfully warned.

On cue, the prince released a powerful blow of wind. I feared he would be upset, but he burst into giggling.

He sneezed again, then a third time, and soon he was laughing and sneezing and creating a ridiculous sight. I joined him in laughing and felt we had formed something of a fragile bond. 

But then his eyes became red and watery. His nose was wet and clear mucus ran from it in a tiny waterfall. The sound of joy abruptly cut off and his smile disappeared. When he began to wheeze I grew concerned.

"Your Highness? Are you all right?"

He was coughing. He dropped the flower and fell to his knees, clutching his throat as if something had become lodged there. His breathing grew labored as he gulped for air, looking like a fish that flopped out of the water. His fit attracted attention and a servant rushed to us. She pushed me away and grabbed the prince in a protective hold, covering his chest with her grease-stained arms.

"What have you done to His Highness?" she demanded in horror.

The boy writhed in her grasp, violently gasping between sneezes.

Something was very wrong.

The prince's face turned a deep shade of red and his eyes searched around in wild desperation.

"What's happening?" I asked the servant, but she ignored me and set the boy onto the ground before pressing into his chest with her hands.

"Did you mean to kill him?!"

"No! I only gave him a flower!"

She continued pumping her hands into his chest at a steady rhythm.

"Daft fool, a flower is poison to his condition!"

I stepped back, astounded by such a revelation. No one had told me a flower could take down the prince.

"I've told them time and time again not to let the prince in the gardens without attendants! It was only a matter of time afore some ill came upon him!"

The prince sputtered and a trail of drool spilled down his chin.

"I didn't know it would hurt him!" I cried. "How was I supposed to know?"

"Whole damn kingdom knows about the prince's affliction!"

"I'm not from this kingdom."

"Fat good that excuse will do you."

Convinced her pushing would no longer help, the servant brought the prince into a sitting position. It was shocking to see the way she handled him, how roughly she pulled and pushed. It was even more unsettling to watch her land a violent slap against the boy's back, which caused him to lunge forward. She caught him in her arms and grunted when the boy continued to cough and wheeze.

"To the kitchen," she mumbled to herself before heaving the frail body into her arms. She raced away and I followed her to a door on the far side of the castle. Behind it was the kitchen; a noisy, hot room bustling with servants and filled with the smell of roasting meat. The prince was sat in a chair before the servant who brought him turned to address her astonished peers.

"His Highness had another attack," she said as she held the boy to keep him from falling over. "He needs his medicine as quickly as possible."

While the others rushed to and fro, the servant who found us spoke to the prince in a soothing voice.

"Deep breaths. Easy now, try to calm yourself. Do as I do, in and out. In and out."

The prince stared at her, his red eyes filled with terror, and tried to mimic her breathing.

"Have a bowl of broth ready for after," the servant commanded to the others. "Use the rabbit stock we have left. Make sure the wine is boiling before you add owl blood. And use fresh dung! Saw a horse drop some moments ago in the courtyard. Fetch it before the steam is gone!"

"Give him a honey drop to suck on," suggested one of the other servants.

"We've got none left since his last attack," said their leader. "Where is that dung?!"

A potion and yellow broth were prepared in rapid time. Boiled wine was mixed with several mysterious ingredients, and a foul odor rose into the air. The final ingredient was a handful of horse dung, stirred several times until it dissolved into the wine.

When the ghastly concoction was finished, the servant who held the prince brought a cup of it to his lips.

"Drink it, Your Highness."

The prince fought against ingesting their medicine. His face was turning an alarming shade of blue and I feared he might die at any moment.

"I'll hold your nose to help the taste," the servant said gently.

She forced the drink into his mouth, tipping its full contents down the prince's throat. The boy whimpered as he drank, and the servant smoothed his hair with her fingers.

"I know it burns, but it'll save you."

The boy's clothes were drenched in sweat and dirt. Another odor tinged the air and I realized the prince had soiled himself. When I looked down I saw a dark stain spreading in his lap.

I averted my gaze and waited for the chaos to end.

After a moment, his breathing steadied and the prince's shoulders relaxed.

"There, there," the servant soothed, "you're getting back to right. Drink the broth now, it'll help the aftertaste." She turned to the others. "He needs the paste to cool his body and a leaf to chew."

A flag of mint was given to him, which the prince accepted and crunched between his teeth. When he was finished he spat it back onto the servant's waiting hand and didn't argue when the woman moved to unbutton and open his doublet. He was covered in black and purple bruises where the servant had pushed on his chest, and he winced as she smothered his tender skin with a thick ointment.

The kitchen had gone silent as everyone waited for the prince to speak. The boy relished being the center of attention and made a show of taking several deep breaths before standing from the chair and scanning the small crowd around him. He pulled his clothes to smooth their wrinkles and looked down at the servant kneeling at his feet.

"Never lay your filthy hands on me again, peasant," he rasped.

"Of course not, Your Highness. Please accept my apology. I sent one of the girls to fetch a physician."

"Where is he?"

"Right here, my prince."

All eyes turned to the door, where a man was standing behind me. At the sight of his beard and dark attire I knew him to be one of the men who sat at the king's table. He went to the prince and held his hand out, with a handkerchief covering his palm to ensure the royal would not have to touch unworthy skin.

"Shall we retire to your room?"

The prince nodded and accepted the man's hand, and the two disappeared from the kitchen. The moment they were gone the servants resumed their previous tasks, not daring to gossip about what they'd just seen.

But the woman who'd found us in the garden grabbed my arm.

"You'll show me where that flower is."

I led her to the spot where the prince fell and plucked the offending bloom from the ground. She took it from me and threw it to the ground, then trampled it until she was satisfied it was destroyed. She spat on the remains and uttered a quick prayer before looking back at me.

"The king will want a word with you for trying to kill his son."

"But I didn't—"

"Doesn't matter what you did or didn't mean to do, the outcome was the same. If I'd not come to save him, you'd have watched the prince take his last breath. You remember to say that to the king or I'll bruise your backside."

"It was an accident."

"And? Many people have worked the prince's whole life to keep him safe from accidents like that. Then you arrive, and on your first day you nearly end his life! King won't be happy, and worse, the prince won't forget."

"Did I just hear a servant threaten the backside of the king's special guest?"

We turned to see another bearded man in dark robes. Unlike his silver-haired counterpart who took the prince from the kitchen, this man was only slightly wrinkled, and the hair that was tucked behind his ears was black and grayless.

The servant fell into a curtsy and kept her eyes from meeting his.

"Pardon, my lord physician. I only meant to warn the boy against trying to hurt the prince again. I'll be back to the kitchen."

His menacing gaze watched her scurry away before turning to settle on me.

"The prince attends his education now, which means your time is free."

"I didn't mean to hurt him," I whimpered. "I wasn't told about the flowers."

"No, I imagine no one had the good sense to inform you about the prince's delicate health. But he's alive, and now you are going to come with me."

"Will the king execute me?"

He raised a dark eyebrow.

"The king will do what he wants. Follow me."

We moved into the castle, up two winding stone staircases and through a series of hallways and doors. Guards stood at attention throughout our journey, regarding me with suspicious glances as I walked by. I wondered if the whole castle already knew about what happened in the courtyard.

The man stopped at a wooden door, identical to the others we had passed, and produced a key to unlock it. On the other side was a room containing a bed and a table with two chairs, and countless books and scrolls and strange alchemical instruments on shelves. He took a seat at the table and motioned for me to take mine across from him.

"On your first night you changed into a wolf. On your first day you endanger the prince's life. Quite a spectacle you've put on in such a short time."

"I said it was an accident," I growled, growing angry at the continued insinuation that I purposefully hurt the prince, "because no one warned me."

"It's common knowledge to all the king's subjects."

"I am not a subject."

"You are now, young man."

"Are you going to punish me?"

He shrugged, suggesting such a thing was beyond his worry or position, and grabbed a nearby book.

"I'd like to speak on your affliction now," he explained as he flipped through the pages, "this incredible gift you have."

"Why?"

"Because you're new and I'm interested in learning about you. Were you born with it?"

"No, and I told the king as much."

"How did you come to possess it? Were you bitten?"

"Does it matter how I got it?"

"Yes, it does."

"Why?"

"Because I'm a physician and all ailments of the human body interest me. And because, if you were not born with the gift but infected with it, there may be a cure."

I might have been happy to hear such a thing, but the look in the physician's eyes was ominous, and I felt no good would ever come from his interest.

"Would you want that? A cure?"

"I'm not sure."

"You enjoy having a monster control you?"

"It doesn't control me."

"You control it then?"

"No."

"Do you enjoy the power it gives you? The strength, the speed, the animal's heightened senses?"

"Those things don't belong to me. The wolf does as it pleases and never listens."

"I see. What if you could control it though? What if you could become the wolf and do as you wanted with its body?"

"I still wouldn't enjoy it."

He snorted. "Everyone would welcome the chance to harness the might of a great beast. You would have nothing to fear, for nothing could threaten you."

"Plenty of things have threatened the wolf."

"But with a human mind influencing it—"

"That's not possible."

"It followed the king's commands at dinner."

I sighed, tired of answering the same questions over and over.

"That was different. If it did not do as it was told, the wolf would have been killed."

"You don't believe a champion could withstand a few knights?"

"A few, maybe. Not an entire castle's worth."

"I suppose the key is to make it afraid. That's a form of taming."

"I can't threaten what's inside my own body. No more than I can persuade it to do what I want."

"Mm. You can't, but perhaps..." He trailed off in thought. "Are you grateful for the king's mercy? He saved you from that wretched circus."

Only to bring me to his wretched castle, I thought bitterly.

"He and his knights killed dozens."

"Hundreds," the physician corrected, "and aren't you relieved about that?"

"He would have killed me too if I hadn't run away."

"Don't be so sure."

"Why hasn't he killed me? I heard him say that monsters have no place in his world. Why was I spared?"

"As you said, you were not born a wolf. You are a human, and the king wouldn't kill an innocent boy."

"Would he kill a guilty one?"

"Depends on the sin committed."

"He spared me because I have something he wants."

"What does he want?"

"The wolf."

I had guessed it minutes ago as the physician rambled about my so-called gift.

"He wants to be like me, doesn't he? He wants the ability to change. I guess monsters do have a place, as long as they serve the king's purpose."

The physician smiled.

"Clever boy. Maybe too clever for your own good. Don't presume to know more than you should."

He sat back and tapped his fingers against his lips.

"What other abilities does your power grant you? I have a theory, if you'll indulge me, that if I were to cut both our arms—just a tiny nick—your wound would heal far more quickly than mine. And if we were both to sustain grievous wounds, I would succumb to mine while you would be on your feet in a matter of hours. What do you think of my theory?"

"I don't think anything of it."

"Shall we test it now?"

I shook my head, uneased by what sort of test he was suggesting. 

He waved his hand.

"I've asked too much of our first meeting." He smiled but no warmth reached his eyes. "We should turn our conversation to happier things. After all, I want us to be friends."

I didn't believe him.

"I'll hazard not one person in the castle has even attempted a proper introduction. Allow me to remedy that. My name is Roland, and I am the second physician to the king. Who are you?"

I studied his face, searching for the sinister reason why he needed to know such a thing.

"Josiah."

"Ah, Josiah. It's a pleasure to formally meet you." 

He took a small pot and two cups from the short bookshelf behind him and laid them on the table.

"Are you fond of tea, Josiah?"

"I've had it with lemon before."

"But do you like it?"

"I do."

He poured us both a cup.

"No lemon I'm afraid, but I might have some old sugar cubes."

There were no sugar cubes after all, and the drink wasn't warm, which I was unaccustomed to.

"This blend was found in a kingdom to the north," Roland explained. "It was their custom to drink it cold, and I find the leaves produce greater flavor when left to steep in cool water instead of boiling."

"It's tasty," I lied. 

"A little token to symbolize our peace. I know it will only come in time, but I want you to understand I'm telling the truth when I say I wish for us to be friends. The court can be a lonely place."

You only want to be friends with the wol—

"I have no desire to befriend the wolf, do not mistake my intention. I want to know the boy, for he's far more interesting to me than some animal." He set his cup down. "Do you know how to play chess?"

"I've never heard the word."

He clapped his hands together.

"A new player, wonderful!"

He brought forth a box that folded into a flat surface. Painted on it were rows of tiny squares, repeating in black and gold, with the same color never touching itself. Inside the box were several figures, also painted black and gold, which Roland took his time placing in a particular order on opposite sides of the board. The figures were carved to look like animals—frogs, cats, birds, fish, mice, and horses—and oh, how intricate the carvings were!

The frogs sat atop elegant thrones. The cats clung to towers of stone. The birds held walking sticks with gems at their ends. The fish raised swords with needle-sharp points. The mice were bent over tomes with tiny words meticulously drawn on their pages. The horses carried flags made from sticks and cloth between their teeth.

Every tuft of fur, every scale and feather, every tiny eye and claw was masterfully cut and painted in lifelike accuracy. It must have taken their creator several painstaking hours to craft them, and the price for their ownership must have been steep.

When Roland finished setting them up, I realized they had been arranged in a vanguard on each side, and were ready to battle each other.

"The fish are the soldiers and hold the most numbers," he explained. "They have the least cunning out of the lot and are used mainly as a sacrifice to advance their betters. The goal is to use your pieces to capture all of mine."

"This is...a game?"

"Oh, yes. It's a battle, only for fun, but one does use real tactics of war to win. It's a king's game, though our wise ruler has little patience for it."

"Why not? He seems like someone who enjoys battle."

"Only when he's swinging a real sword."

"Should we be playing a king's game when we are not kings?"

"I won't say anything if you don't."

He explained the rules, how each figure could only move in a certain direction, how to utilize their strengths, and how sacrificing one's pieces was a necessity of the game.

To be honest, it was complicated and boring, and I only understood a portion of what he said, but I was too polite to say anything other than the occasional, "Yes", "No", and "I see".

Roland won our first match quickly and barely stifled his snickering at my attempt at war strategy. I was relieved to be done with it, but my opponent moved his pieces back into their starting positions.

"You set up your kingdom this time, just as I have."

My second game went as abysmally as the first, but this time the physician won with a frown.

"You gave up halfway through."

"I'm not having much fun."

"Ah."

He cleared the board and folded it back into a box.

"We'll conclude our meeting, but I do hope you'll join me again. Tomorrow perhaps?"

We both knew I had no power to refuse.

"Until then, search your memory and see if you can recall anything about how you received your special gift. Even the most insignificant detail may prove vital."

He unlocked the door to set me free and gestured into the hall.

"I don't know my way around the castle," I said. 

"Follow the doors with red flags above them and you'll be back in the kitchen in no time."

He put a hand on my back and pushed me out of his room, with no more concern than if he was sweeping a bit of dust from his doorway.

The door closed and I heard the telling click of the lock being turned.