That was before the magic, before his life changed irrevocably and his dreams disappeared in a puff of smoke. Thoughts of a future had vanished when he set a tablecloth on fire while arguing with Corrie at the dinner table. From then on he was confined to the castle, hidden away from staff and nobles alike. The whispers spread as fast as the wind barreling through the corridors—sickly, shy, melancholic, magic.
