Before I had even begun my search for Mother,she found me first. "There you are, Erika,"Mother's sharp voice reached me through the laughter and chatter of the partyguests.

"There you are, Erika," Mother's sharp voice reached me through the laughter and chatter of the party guests.

She walked toward me, scowling all the while, and my stomach knotted with dread. She knows. I tried to keep my face from showing my guild, though I did not think I succeeded.

Mother stopped before me, arms crossed, and looked down her nose at me. The look alone was enough to make me wilt. "Yes, Mother?"

"Where have you been all evening?" She asked, accusation in her voice.

"I was . . . dancing." I lied. "Didn't you see me?"

Mother shook her head. "There is no way you were dancing. I have not seen you all night, Erika."

I hesitated. "But I was." It was an effort not to wince. Even I recognized how feeble my lie sounded.

"And is it just a coincidence that Prince William was also missing?"

I swallowed and looked around the room for inspiration, waiting for an excuse to come to mind.

"Look at me when I am speaking to you," Mother hissed.

My eyes snapped to her face. "I did not know he was also missing—er, I mean—" Oh, shoot.

Just as expected, Mother latched onto the word also. "So, you did disappear."

"Fine," I relented. I was never going to win, anyway. "I went for a small walk, is that the excuse you were looking for?"

"And William?"

"Mother, I told you. We were not together."

She tilted her head, her hawk-like eyes watching me, searching. Again, I resisted the urge to look away. "Erika," she said, her voice holding a note of condescension. "You do know that we are currently arranging a marriage between Alice and the prince."

The words were like a slap to the face. They always were. I took a shuddering breath and squared my shoulders. "Yes, I am aware of that."

"Then you would be wise to listen to me, dear. He is going to marry Alice, not you. You would save yourself some heartache if you were to accept that now."

I wanted to fight her, to argue with her, to deny it and keep denying it, but I felt myself bending to her as I always did. As I always would. I looked away first.

She smiled and patted my arm. "That's better. Now, be a good dear and go dance with at least a few suitors before we leave."

My hands were shaking, my face burning with indignation.

"Ah, here we are," she said, smiling to someone off to the side.

I turned to see who she was looking at and found an attractive man walking toward us, beckoned by Mother.

"Erika, this is Lord Jeremiah de Clare. You two should share a dance." The smile plastered to her face was sweet and charming—and possibly the most superficial thing I had ever seen.

I looked at Lord de Clare with his bright eyes and gold hair. He smiled timidly at me. "Would you, er, care to dance?" He asked, holding his hand out to me.

No, I wanted to shout. No, I do not want to dance with you. But, just as Mother expected, I set down the book William had given to me and took the young lord's proffered hand. He led me between dancing couples until we were in the midst of them, one of them.

I curtsied, he bowed, and we began to dance. Unfortunately, two dance lessons were not enough to make me a dancer. I stepped on his foot several times, stumbled once, and spent most of the dance wondering if one could die from embarrassment. If anyone could, it would most certainly be me.

Finally—it was the longest dance of my life—the song came to an end and we stepped off to the side.

"Well," he began haltingly. "That was . . . erm . . ." He appeared to be searching for something kind to say about our dance, but he was failing miserably.

I ducked my head, face burning. "I am so terribly sorry. I know I cannot dance."

"No, no, you were all right." At least he was a gentleman, trying to spare my feelings.

"Just tell my mother it was lovely and then you never have to see me again."

He did not argue. "Well, if you insist . . ." He bowed and walked away, leaving me all alone, in a state of misery.

I stood back, out of the way, watching happy couples dancing and laughing, many of them intoxicated after a night of dancing and drinks. Jeremiah de Clare danced with Alice not long after and it just made me want to curl in on myself.

It was almost laughable how quickly my mood could change from happy and excited to trying not to cry when my mother got involved.

I did not see William for the rest of the night, sadly. Well, I saw him, but from a distance. He did not come over to me and I did not try to engage him again, as Mother's words echoed I my head.

He is going to marry Alice, not you. You would save yourself some heartache if you were to accept that now.

A lump formed in my throat and I pressed my back against the wall behind me as though I could sink into the wall and disappear. If only.

I wished it mattered that William and I had had a lovely time in the library. That he knew exactly where I might want to go. But the thought only made my heart twist, because Mother was right. There was no future for us. There never would be. And I would do well to accept that.

It was much later and I was still wallowing when Mother came back over to me. "We are leaving, Erika," and, with that, she turned on her heel and began walking away, expecting me to follow.

And I did, like the dumb little lamb I was, always too trusting, always too willing, and, in the end, would be the one to get eaten by wolves.

#

The next day dragged by so slowly. All I could think of was my meeting—or, rather, rendezvous, as any good romance novel would call it—with William later that evening. It was all I looked forward too, as well. My lessons were slow and boring and I hardly learned anything as I stared at the clock behind Miss Grimoult for nearly the entire morning.

After my academic lessons, I met Monsieur Dupont in the ballroom for my dance lessons. Well, really, it was so Monsieur Dupont could berate me and make me feel bad about myself for several hours. Though, I did notice that I did not trip quite as many times as I had the previous lesson, so I counted myself as progress, even though Monsieur Dupont did not.

Once lessons of all kinds had ended, I went to the gardens and read. The days were beginning to get warmer and longer as spring approached and it was so nice to be able to read outside again. The estate garden was not as big or lovely as the palace's, but it was still one of my favorite places to read. Its trimmed hedges and rose bushes in various colors (of course, since it was only early spring, there were no roses yet). There were statues of angels decorating the lawn throughout. I always thought they were beautiful, but Alice had called them creepy on more than one occasion.

I sat on a little stone bench beneath a tree. The leaves were just beginning to bud on the branches above my head, turning a bright green.

The sun was just beginning to set when Agnes appeared through the double doors leading into the house. "Dinner is ready, Miss."

I smiled and shut my book, my stomach grumbling at the thought. "Thank you, Agnes," I said as I followed her into the house for dinner.

During out meal, Alice was very talkative. Apparently, she'd danced with Prince William and was extremely pleased with herself for that. A small kernel of pride at her mention of dancing one dance with him as I thought about the several times I'd danced with him and been alone with him. Alice could not stop talking about him, her eyes alight with excitement.

I picked at the food on my plate, listening as she went on. And on. And on.

I glanced at Mother, who was smiling, listening intently to everything Alice had to say. I glanced over at Father, who seemed to be completely absorbed in the book he was reading, occasionally giving an, "I see," or a mumbled agreement of some sort, though, he was very obviously not listening.

"And he has the most amazing smile," Alice went on, to which Mother nodded, still listening. She looked pleased with herself, as well. She was probably thinking about what a lovely couple Alice and William would make. The thought made my stomach knot. "Oh, and his eyes, the color of cornflowers."

"I rather think they resemble sapphires more than cornflowers." The words left my lips before I could think better of it, before I could stop myself. I stilled and looked up from my plate to find Mother scowling at me and Alice looking quite displeased.

"Do you think so?" Mother asked, a note of condescension underlining her words. "You spend so much time reading and ignoring reality that I would not have expected you to notice such things."

How could I not notice the beautiful blue of his eyes? My face warmed and I looked back down at my plate. "I notice more than you might think."

"Then, perhaps, you could read the room and keep your mouth shut when we are talking about matters that do not concern you," Alice snapped.

I opened my mouth to speak but found I had no idea what to say to that. Instead, I returned to my meal and finished in silence as Mother and Alice returned to discussing "matters that do not concern me."

I finished my meal quickly and excused myself, eager to get away from Alice's constant chatter. I went upstairs to my bedroom and debated how I might leave the house without being noticed. I went to my balcony doors and briefly considered tying my bedsheets to the railing and climbing down like a heroine in an adventure novel would do. Though, I quickly scrapped that idea, as I would most likely end up falling from the balcony and breaking my neck.

In the end, I took the key to my room and locked the door from the outside, so if someone came to the door, they would think I was asleep. Hopefully. Then, I went out to the garden, in case Mother was looking out over the front of the house. Of course, there was absolutely no reason for her to be doing that, so I was probably just being paranoid.

I was pleased with myself for sneaking out without being noticed. Since it was getting late, it would have been unfair of me to call on Walter, who was probably in bed, so I decided I would walk.

It was not an extremely long walk, but it was difficult when I was wearing only satin slippers on my feet, not helpful for a trek in the least. I walked for some time, with only the oil street lamps to guide me. Eventually, the palace came into view, seeming to glow with light against the darkening sky.

When I reached the gates, I found William leaning against the tree where he had waited for me the last few times we'd met. I found myself smiling, my heart lifting, as I walked toward him.

"Erika," he said by way of greeting, a smile curving his lips.

"Good evening, William," I replied.

His smile widened, a flash of white in the dark. "You look beautiful tonight."

I was thankful it was dark out so he could not see me blush. Still, I smiled. "How can you tell when it is so dark out?"

"It is not that dark out. Besides, I do not need to see you to know that you are beautiful. You just are."

My eyes widened in surprise and my heart began to beat faster. "That's . . . very kind of you to say," I said, my voice sounding a little breathless to my own ears.

It was quiet for a moment after that and William cleared his throat, as though to fill the silence. "Shall we go?"

"Yes, of course," I replied.

He took my hand and led me up the walkway, though, we did not go up the stairs to the palace entrance as I expected we would. Instead, we walked around the back to the gardens. It was quiet, except for the soft chirping of crickets and the occasional hoot of an owl. We sat on a bench beside the fountain where water added to the soft noises of nature that enveloped us.

"I heard you danced with my sister yesterday," I said, a small smile pulling at my mouth.

His cheeks darkened in the moonlight. "I did."

"It's all right," I said quickly. "She talked about it—and you—so much that I actually got tired of hearing about you."

"I'm flattered," he teased.

"As you should be. I think she fancies you."

He leaned in close to me, his eyes sparking. "Is she the only one?" He asked softly, a hint of mischief hidden in his words.

My face reddened and I looked away to hide my smile. "I highly doubt she is the only one."

"And what about you, Miss Lovet?" His voice was low and a little husky.

Despite the chill in the air, I felt hot all over. I looked up and met his eyes, which looked almost black in the darkness. He was so close that I could feel his warm breath on my cheek. I did not know what to say, how to answer without it being the truth. That fancy was not a strong enough word to encompass my feelings for him.

"Erika?"

"Yes?"

"You're blushing."

This only made me blush deeper. "You cannot possibly tell that I am blushing. It is far too dark out."

He laughed softly and the sound sent tingles up my spine. "It is not that dark out," he repeated what he said earlier.

"Well," I said, still flushed and my voice an octave higher than normal. "It is hard not to blush when one says things as though one is a character in a romance novel. I can hardly be blamed for blushing under these circumstances."

He raised an eyebrow and my heart did another little flip. "I hardly think I could ever match strides with Heathcliff or Mr. Darcy."

I snorted. "Nor would I want you to. Mr. Darcy was terribly rude upon meeting Elizabeth and, while he did change, I quite like that you did not make me hate you at first. And Heathcliff was rather brooding and sullen, and, again, I much prefer you to either of them."

He tilted his head, dark hair falling into his eyes. "I thought you liked those books."

"Oh, I do. They are some of the greatest romances ever written. And yet, I wonder if I love it for myself, or for whom their hearts belonged." I shook my head quickly, realizing I had moved away from the original point of our conversation—something that could be expected when books were brought up. "What I mean is, I do not think you are in a race against Mr. Darcy or Heathcliff. And, you are doing quite well, regardless."

His own face reddened slightly in the moonlight and he ducked his head slightly.

"William?"

"Yes?"

"You're blushing."

He laughed and it sounded like music. "Well met."

Despite the coming of spring, once the sun went down, the temperature would fall rapidly.

William seemed to notice the change in temperature around the same time I did. "It's gotten quite cold out, I think. Would you want to go inside?"

I was not about to say no to going inside. Even the way the palace glowed with light hinted at the warmth inside.

"Yes, that would be lovely."

William took my hand and pulled me up. We hurried into the palace where it was, indeed, warmer than outside. Still holding my hand he led me inside, down the long main hallway off of the gardens, taking me through twists and turns about the palace. I hadn't a clue where we were even going, but William seemed to already have a place in mind.

He led me down another long corridor, up a flight of stairs, before we ended up in front of a set of large double doors.

There were two guards standing by the doors and neither one glanced my way as we walked into the room. It made me wonder if it was common for him to bring women here, and, if so, how many had there been?

Inside the room, there was a large, four-poster bed, a divan sitting before the fireplace with a roaring fire in it, a large oak desk with papers stacked neatly on top of it . . . and books. Loads and loads of books. His walls were lined with shelves and each one was filled with more books. There was a set of glass doors opposite us, and they were open, letting in the cool night air and leading out onto a balcony. His room was cleaner and more organized than I would have expected.

His bed was made, there were no clothes lying on the floor, all of his papers were stacked and orderly. "Your room isn't very messy," I stated, very obviously, glancing at him.

His lips quirked into a smile. "No, I would agree, it is not messy. I do not like my room to be messy. I could never find anything."

I entered into the room, looking around as I did so. "It's very nice."

William cast me a smile. "Thank you." He walked over to the balcony doors and shut them tightly, sealing out the cold air. The room instantly felt so much warmer.

Almost in a trance, I walked over to the fire roaring in the grate and sat in an armchair before it.

William took the seat beside me and we sat in relative silence, listening to the fire crackle.

I looked up at the bookshelves once again. There were so many titles. Some in different languages. "Have you always loved to read?" I asked.

"Since I was very young, yes. I do not know when, exactly, I began to read novels, but I haven't stopped since."

"Why do you enjoy reading?"

He stared at me blankly for a moment. "Why . . . do I enjoy reading? What do you mean?"

"What do you get out of it? Is it the plot? Or the characters? Or someone else's conflicts? Or something else, perhaps?"

He raised his eyes skyward as he thought. "No one has ever asked me that before. You have caught me off guard. I suppose I enjoy plot-driven novels. Where the characters are always moving and fighting and working toward something. I think, well, as future king, there has always been a certain pressure surrounding me. I always have something to live up to, something to work toward, someone's shoes to fill. I think books have always brought me a moment of peace from the chaos of my own life, a moment of respite to focus on someone else. I think that has driven my love for books in a lot of ways."

I could not help but feel sympathetic toward him. "I cannot imagine. I'm sure it has really helped over the years. In my life, I have found reading to be a wonderful escape, as well."

His eyes met mine and smiled, though it looked a little sad in the firelight. "Why do you read, Erika?"

"I love characters. I love watching them grow and change over the course of a novel, I love seeing the dynamics between characters. And, perhaps, to escape my own life for a little while. I think I live a rather nice life compared to many, but it is not without its challenges. Mother and Alice, well, they do make one want to be somewhere else if given the chance." I smiled wryly.

Firelight danced in William's blue eyes. His expression was earnest, searching, and so intent. I felt as though he were looking right though me.

I looked away first. "Of course, they are not so bad as that. I do not need to avoid them very often."

"Why do you evade?"

I stilled and slowly returned my gaze to his. "I'm sorry?"

"It's something I've noticed about you. You can't talk about them for very long before lightening the mood or changing the subject. Why is that?"

I sucked in a breath, my face warming. "I don't do that."

His eyes widened slightly, as though realizing something, and he shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said. "I did not mean to pry. You do not have to talk about it with me. I was just . . ." He faltered. "I'm sorry."

Was he right? Did I evade? I'd never really thought about it before. "It's all right," I said slowly. "I'm sure you meant nothing by it. I was just surprised, is all." I thought back on his question. Why do you evade? "I suppose I do not really know why I evade. I do not spend a lot of time talking about my family, so I do not spend a lot of time thinking of ways to change the subject. I think my relationship with them is complicated. I think conversations involving them often are, as well. Whenever I bring them up, well, it is not usually to add something positive or lighthearted to the conversation, and, I do not think I am usually prepared to delve into the darker parts of my relationship with them. Those are some of the reasons I think I evade, but, truthfully, I have never realized it about myself before so I'm not quite sure."

"I'm sorry," William said again, ducking his head. "You do not have to talk about anything you are not comfortable with. I am curious and sometimes I think I can come across as rude when I ask questions simply from curiosity."

I could not help but smile at this. "It's all right, really. I am much the same."

"We are similar in a lot of ways, I think," William said, head tilted thoughtfully.

"'He's more myself than I am,'" I quoted. "'Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.'"

William smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Wuthering Heights."

I returned his smile. "It seemed to fit."

Outside, the monastery bell chimed the hour, but it only chimed once.

"Oh, my, is it really one o'clock already?" I asked, surprised.

"I suppose it is," he said, sounding just as surprised as I was.

My heart ached at the thought of returning home, of cutting our conversation short, but I could not stay here all night, sadly. I stood, brushing wrinkles out of my gown. "I should go."

He stood too. "I'll go with you."

We left William's bedroom and walked back down the way we'd come until we reached the palace entrance. We walked back through the front gates, where the guards were posted, still standing on alert at this hour.

"Did you walk here?" He asked.

"I did, but it is not that far."

"I do not think you should be walking alone at this hour. You can borrow a palace carriage."

"Oh, no, please, do not trouble yourself, I will be all right." I tried to make it sound as though I did not want to impose, but, really, I was worried about the noise waking my mother and alerting her to my sneaking out.

"It isn't any trouble, I assure you," William insisted.

I made an impatient sound and shook my head. "No, thank you. That is very kind of you to offer, but I came here without my parents' knowledge or consent and would be in quite a lot of trouble if they were to find out, which they certainly would if a carriage came rolling up the drive in the middle of the night."

Understanding dawned in William's eyes. "Oh, I see," he said quickly. "Well, in that case, let me, at least, escort you."

I hesitated for a moment. "You are very kind to offer, but I do not want to inconvenience you by making you go so far out of you way for me."

He offered me a small smile. "It is not an inconvenience in the slightest. I would feel better knowing you returned to your home safely."

Reassured by his insistence, I agreed. "All right, I would love it if you could escort me." I refrained from adding another apology and another excuse as to why he should let me go by myself. I hoped he did not mind, though I felt badly for inconveniencing him all the same. "Though, you are the prince and it seems rather unsafe for you to be walking the streets alone late at night, as well."

He thought for a moment, then smiled. He told me to wait, as he would be right back, before he turned and hurried away. He returned a moment later, another man in tow.

"Erika, this is Commander Gabriel Thorel. He is the commander of the Royal Guard, and is on duty tonight. He agreed to escort us both to the Lovet estate," William said.

I looked over at Commander Thorel, who seemed to be rather young to hold such an important title. He looked to be in his early twenties. He had dark skin and cropped, black hair, a chiseled jaw and full lips. He was taller than William by several inches, with broader shoulders and a muscular chest. He was very handsome. He stood rigidly beside William, wearing his gray-and-blue uniform, though with many more pins and medals attached to his than many of the other guards I'd seen—probably because of his higher rank.

I curtsied to him. "It is very nice to meet you, Commander."

He bowed in return. "It is nice to meet you, as well, My Lady."

I straightened and narrowed my eyes at him. "You look awfully young for the position of commander."

He inclined his head at my comment. "I am."

His response did not welcome any further questions on the subject, so I refrained from asking anything else. "Thank you for escorting us. It is greatly appreciated."

He nodded, looking me over, and then turned to William. "Shall we go, then?"

William nodded and the three of us began walking toward the Lovet estate. William leaned in close to me. "You must forgive Gabriel's somewhat harsh demeanor. He is rather shy and closed off when he meets new people."

"Oh, no, it's quite all right. I suppose we have that in common, then."

"Gabriel and I have been friends since we were children," William explained. "He and his sister trained with the Guard almost their entire life, since their father was the commander. When their father died, he was offered the position of commander at the age of eighteen."

"Eighteen? He was practically a child! How old is he now?"

"Twenty-two."

Gabriel cleared his throat from behind us. "I can hear you."

"Well, it's not a secret," William grinned at his friend, who remained somber and unsmiling.

"I suppose not, but you should tell the story correctly, at least. The only reason I got this position was because my father and William's father were friends. It is a classic case of nepotism."

William rolled his eyes and shook his head abruptly "How many times must we argue about this, Gabriel? That is not the truth and you know it."

"Yes, it is," the commander shot back.

William and I made eye contact and he shook his head again, looking mildly exasperated. "He truly is good at his job, he is just hard on himself about it." He said quietly.

"I see."

We walked on in silence for a moment, before I remembered another bit of William's explanation about Gabriel.

"His sister is a soldier too?"

"Yes, Poppy Thorel. Though, she is not as high ranking as Gabriel, she is one of the best, I think."

I stared at him, surprised. "I have never heard of there being a womans soldier before."

"It is not common. She is one of the only ones. Their mother died when they were very young, so they were only ever raised by their father, who has been a guard for a very long time. He raised them in much the same way, trained them equally, and allowed them to join the Guard when they were old enough. We've trained together on occasion and Poppy has bested me far more often than I've bested her." He smiled wryly.

"I see," I said, still amazed. "What is she like?" I could not quite wrap my head around a woman ever being anything other than a lady.

"She is about as opposite Gabriel as anyone, I think. She smiles all the time and, despite often wearing trousers as part of her uniform, loves wearing gowns and going to formal events."

"I would love to meet her. Perhaps I could meet her some time."

William smiled. "I shall introduce you, then."

It felt as though we had only just begun the walk, but, all too soon, we stood outside the front door of the estate.

Gabriel stepped out of sight to give us some privacy, well, the illusion of privacy, as I was certain he was still listening.

William and I stood before the front door, neither of us moving, neither of us speaking. There were so many things I wanted to say to him, but all I could manage was, "Goodnight, William."

He smiled and took my hand in his, pressed his lips against my knuckles. "Until tomorrow, Erika," he replied softly.

With a smile and a blush, I pulled my hand gently from his grip. I pushed open the door and stepped inside, shutting it quietly behind me. I leaned against the door for a moment, waiting for my erratically-beating heart to steady itself before I walked up the stairs to bed, thoughts of William still hovering in my mind as I drifted off to sleep.