Sword fighting was harder than Henry had expected. What had always seemed like random clicks and thrusts was actually, he learned, an elaborate dance of practiced moves. It was like soccer or baseball, but with a lot more to remember.

His grandpa was a good teacher. Every day after school, Henry learned a new move, and then David helped him put it into practice along with the ones he had learned on previous days. That way, he kept learning, but he didn't go backward. Doing things had always been the best way for him to learn them.

On Saturday of the first week, they spent the whole morning fighting, and by lunch time, Henry was exhausted. "Better be glad we're not doing this in armor," panted his grandfather as they both collapsed onto the grass in front of their building.

"Grandpa?" Henry asked, using David's stomach as a pillow.

"Yeah, kid?"

"Why are you so good at teaching me this?"

David smiled down at him and put a hand through his hair. "It hasn't been all that long since I learned it myself, you know."

"Oh," said Henry, thinking back to the story in the well-worn pages of his book. He'd been thinking of his grandfather as a prince for so long that he'd almost forgotten about the other part of the story, the part when he'd been a humble farm boy.

Henry turned over and looked David in the eye. "Do you ever wish you hadn't become a prince?"

The older man smiled his widest smile. "I used to, right at first, but if I hadn't become the prince, I never would have met Snow, and you and your mom would never have been born. Turns out, the thing I didn't want is the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Like now," said Henry, lying beside him and staring up into the blue sky.

"What do you mean?" asked David curiously.

Henry didn't look at him. "I mean, if Emma—my mom—and Snow hadn't been taken away, I wouldn't have gotten to live with you like this. I didn't want them to go, but this is the coolest thing that's ever happened to me."