The rejected crown

A summer of innocence

~jane and edweyn

10 years earlier....

It was summer in the quiet village where the future knight and the young witch first met. The air smelled of wildflowers, pine, and freshly tilled earth, and the nearby stream hummed a song that only children seemed to understand.

Ten-year-old Edweyn was the son of a lesser noble, already burdened by the weight of responsibility. His father drilled into him the importance of duty and honor, leaving little time for play. But every now and then, when the sun was warm and the fields called, he escaped the stern lessons and the heavy expectations.

That's how he first met Jane, a scrappy seven-year-old with tangled black hair and wide brown eyes that sparkled with mischief. He found her crouching in the mud by the stream, her fingers poking around in the water, utterly unconcerned by the dirt smeared across her cheeks and the hem of her worn dress.

"What are you doing?" Edweyn asked, standing awkwardly at the edge of the stream, unsure if he should stay or leave.

Jane looked up, flashing a gap-toothed grin. "Catching frogs." She held up her muddy hands proudly, as if she were a queen showing off treasure. "Want to help?"

Edweyn wrinkled his nose. "Frogs? Why would I want to catch frogs?"

Jane rolled her eyes. "Because it's fun, obviously. What else are you going to do? Go back to practicing your 'Yes, Sir' and 'No, Sir' nonsense?" She puffed up her chest, mimicking the stiff posture of a knight.

To his surprise, Edweyn laughed—a sound that felt strange and light, like he'd forgotten how to do it properly. "I'm going to be a knight someday," he said, trying to sound important, though there was no weight behind his words.

"So?" Jane shrugged, swiping her hand through the water to catch a frog that slipped past. "You can be a knight and still catch frogs."

Something about the way she said it—so sure, so unapologetically free—made Edweyn sit down by the stream. Hesitantly, he dipped his hands into the cool water.

"Like this!" Jane instructed, showing him how to scoop the frogs without scaring them away. Within minutes, they were both laughing, their hands slick with mud, splashing each other as frogs leapt away in every direction.

By the end of the day, they lay side by side in the tall grass, damp and dirty, watching the clouds drift lazily across the sky. For a boy whose life was full of rules, this wild little girl was like a breath of fresh air.

"Do you think knights ever play in the mud?" Edweyn asked, more to himself than to her.

"Probably not," Jane replied with a snort. "But they should."

Edweyn smiled, imagining a world where knights could run barefoot through streams and play in the fields, where duty didn't feel so heavy.

They spent the rest of the summer like that—exploring the woods, stealing apples from the orchard, and building little forts out of sticks and stones. It didn't matter that Jane's clothes were patched and Edweyn's were made of fine wool; out in the fields, they were just two children, bound by adventure and unspoken promises.

"Promise me something," Jane said one day, her brown eyes serious for once.

"What?" Edweyn asked, sitting up from the patch of grass they'd claimed as their secret spot.

"Promise we'll always be friends. Even when you're a big, fancy knight."

Edweyn gave her a crooked grin. "What if you grow up to be a princess or something? You might not want to be friends with a knight."