Agnes yanked on the laces of my bodice, as ifthey could get any tighter. I was already light headed from lack of oxygen andI'd only been wearing the cursed thing for minutes.

"It's too tight," I said breathlessly, attempting to loosen the laces.

Mother batted my hands away. "It can never be too tight, dear. Just suck in your stomach a little more," she said.

I glared at her back as she paced around my room, waiting impatiently for me to finish getting ready. At one point, she paused and narrowed her eyes at me, before continuing to pace. Her heeled shoes clicked loudly on the marble floor, and I found it rather distracting.

Agnes finished brushing out my hair and pinned it back, partially up in a bun and partially down in long, dark curls. She stepped back to admire her work, nodded once and then beamed at me, pride glowing in her dark eyes. "You look beautiful, miss."

"Thank you," I replied uncertainly, turning to face the mirror. I did look beautiful, I thought. The gown was a deep crimson color; it was a sleeveless gown with hand-draped tulle and a patterned tulle skirt, with embellished lace and ruffles. The dress was much too beautiful to be worn by me. My face warmed as I stared down at the beautiful gown, knowing I didn't do it justice in the least.

I loved the dress, and wanted to twirl in it, but I would do no such thing in front of my mother. I turned to her, expecting some grand reaction, or rather, hoping for it. "What do you think?"

Mother narrowed her eyes, and I watched as they quickly assessed the dress and then me in the dress. "It will do." she said stiffly, before turning and heading out the door.

My shoulders drooped a little and I released a long breath, trying not to seem all that disappointed by her terse reply.

Agnes's arm slipped around my shoulders in a hug. "Every woman will want to be you and every man will have their eyes on you tonight." She whispered reassuringly.

I gave her a small smile, before stepping into the red satin slippers, picking up my book, and walking out to the carriage. Our coachman, Walter, held out his hand for me and helped me into the carriage.

Alice was already waiting inside, her back rigid, her hands folded in front of her. She wore a beautiful gold gown that accentuated her breasts; I'm sure Mother intended for that. She did not even glance at me as I slid onto the bench across from her.

Mother sat beside her on the carriage bench, her eyes narrowed at me in scrutiny.

I sat next to the window, opposite my mother and sister, and opened my book.

"You're going to read on the way to the palace?" My sister wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Yes," I said, looking down at the book in my hands.

"Put it away, Erika." Mother said to me. "A woman like you should not be reading. You should be looking for a husband. You can't do that with your nose in a book."

Reluctantly, I shut the book, and did not argue.

We arrived at the palace, along with the steady flow of carriages. Walter helped my mother, my sister, and me out onto the cobbled road and then drove off. A footman at the palace door announced our arrival and we walked into the grand palace, down the long hallway to the ballroom.

When we entered, my attention was drawn to the musicians playing their instruments in the corner of the room. It was loud, reaching even the farthest corner, but it was pleasant. The room was large, and decorated as one would expect a ballroom to be decorated: extravagant would have been an understatement. The polished, marble floor seemed to glow from the many lights shining down on it. The walls were covered in gilt picture frames and mirrors. Each mirror stretched to the impossibly tall domed ceiling, the frames made from solid gold wrapping around the mirrors in beautiful designs and patterns. An incredibly large chandelier hung from the ceiling on a braided rope that at least looked to be made of gold. Candles sat precariously on every available space on the chandelier, setting the room ablaze with warmth, with the help of the lanterns that hung at intervals along the walls.

Servers stood at attention around the room, each carrying a tray of some sort of food or drink. Some carried flutes of bubbling champagne, or held glasses of wine of the deepest crimson, while others carried hors d'oeuvres or small desserts.

Evidently, the king and queen had spared no expense.

Opposite the door, there was a raised dais, where King Henry and his wife, Queen Alexia, sat on their thrones, watching the festivities. Couples danced merrily, laughing and talking. Some were already intoxicated, though, it was still early enough that intoxication only meant light laughter and rosy cheeks.

"Where is Father?" I asked.

"He had a meeting. He'll be along soon." Mother replied before walking off, Alice following behind.

Left alone, I went and found a chair in the corner of the room, where I sat and began reading my book. It was quieter back here, and there weren't as many people around. I lost track of time as I became engrossed in the plot, the characters, the book itself. Over the years, I'd found books to be the very best of companions. In my chaotic, ever-changing life, books were the only constant, and I was grateful for that.

I loved that I could often relate to the protagonist, that I could get absorbed in the plot. I could go anywhere, do anything, and I never had to leave my bedroom.

"You're reading at the king's ball?" I heard from somewhere to my left.

Startled, I slammed my book shut and looked up to see who had interrupted me. I found a man that looked to be close to my age, with dark hair and vivid blue eyes watching me. He was wearing a black doublet with gold edging and black trousers.

The first thought that came to mind was how attractive he was, immediately followed by how inappropriate such a thought was. My face heated up all the way to the tips of my ears and I sincerely hoped he hadn't noticed, though how could he possibly have missed it?

I opened my mouth and then closed it, not quite sure what to say. "Well, yes," I finally managed. "I find these sort of events rather . . . dull."

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Dull? Well, I suppose it's a matter of opinion. I think you just need to be shown that it can be enjoyable." He smiled, flashing perfect, white teeth. "What is your name?"

"Erika Lovet of Locksley." I said slowly. I realized belatedly that I should have stood and curtsied, as was only proper, but I stayed seated.

"Well, Lady Lovet, would you be so kind as to honor me with a dance?" He asked, holding out his hand.

The burning in my face intensified and I looked down at my hands quickly. "I'm not a very good dancer." I said softly.

"That's all right," He replied, grinning brightly, and leaned in, a mischievous light dancing in his eyes and he brought his hand to his lips, as though we were sharing a secret, and whispered, "Neither am I."

I took his hand hesitantly and set my book down. He led me to the center of the room, where we were surrounded by other couples, all dancing to the music.

"I apologize, in advance, for whatever injuries you may sustain from my atrocious lack of skill on the dance floor and I hope that whatever happens, you will not think less of me after it is over." I said, grimacing slightly.

He rolled his eyes, smiling. "I bet you're better than you're letting on, Lady Lovet."

He bowed and I curtsied to him and then he wrapped an arm around my waist, taking my hand with his free one, and led me around the room in an elegant waltz.

I could feel eyes on my back as I danced with this man, whom I still didn't know the name of. He was a very good dancer, confident and sure of himself, whereas I stumbled occasionally or made a wrong step and ended up apologizing (this happened several times). I was grateful when he didn't point out my flaws or laugh at me for being as awful at dancing as I had warned him I would be. Every time I made a slight misstep or a clumsy mistake, I thought of Alice, knowing she would never make such mistakes while dancing.

When the song finally came to an end, I was so filled with relief that it made me slightly dizzy. He escorted me off to the side of the room and bowed again, and I curtsied.

"Oh, my, why was he dancing with her? She has two left feet!" A woman nearby said, not even bothering to keep her voice down.

The girls next to her tittered at the comment, before replying. Though, at least she was polite enough to say it quietly, so I didn't hear what she said.

I blushed and looked down at my feet, feeling completely embarrassed. She wasn't wrong.

"Ignore them. I'm sure you've noticed that women at court are rather . . ." He paused as if searching for the right word, "petty."

"I'm sorry, again, for being so clumsy." I said, my cheeks burning.

He laughed softly. "You were not as bad as you claimed to be. I was a little worried when you apologized for 'injuries.' However, you did not cause me any, so you are a better dancer than you give yourself credit for."

I smiled timidly. "My sister is a much better dancer than I am. She wouldn't have stepped on your foot once."

"Oh? Well that's quite boring." He remarked.

I laughed, surprised. "I'm sorry, what is your name?"

He paused, looking mildly surprised by my question, but I couldn't imagine why. "William." He said after a moment.

I blinked at him. "I couldn't possibly call you by your Christian name. Surely you have a title or a surname I could use?" I inquired.

"I do. But I am not going to tell you what it is." His sapphire eyes gleamed mysteriously in the warm glow of the lanterns.

"Why not?" I asked, perhaps a little more crossly than I intended.

He leaned in really closely, right next to my ear, and whispered, "Because it's a secret."

I narrowed my eyes at this and opened my mouth to respond, but was cut off abruptly by my mother.

"Erika!" Mother snapped, and I turned to find her walking toward me, looking livid. She stopped before us and turned to William. She curtsied to him. "Your Highness," she said, bowing her head respectfully, before straightening and turning back to me.

"What are you doing?" She asked harshly.

"I was just talking with—William, and—" She didn't let me finish.

Her face looked as red as my gown. "William! How dare you address him so casually! He could have you flogged for such a thing!" She turned to William and curtsied again. "I'm terribly sorry for my daughter's ignorance. She means nothing by it."

"No, no, it's quite alright." He said slowly, turning to me.

"Are you sure, Your Highness?" My mother began haltingly. "I'm sure she must be bothering you—"

"She isn't." He said patiently. "But I do thank you for your concern. If you'll excuse us . . ." He waited for my mother to take the hint.

Her nostrils flared as she glared at me and then she turned on her heel and marched away.

I looked up at William, speechless. "So . . . you're . . ."

"Yes, I'm William Kinsley, crown prince of Belhaven." He said, ducking his head and looking uncomfortable.

And suddenly, I was mortified. I told him his father's party was boring, he caught me reading and knew I didn't want to be here, I stepped on his foot and practically tripped him while dancing, I used his first name as though we were friends . . . I shuddered at all the things I'd done wrong, and we hadn't even been here an hour.

I felt like crying. "I am so terribly sorry. I didn't realize you were him. I've been so disrespectful and rude. If I had known—"

He laughed and shook his head, looking embarrassed. "I'm glad you didn't know. I really didn't mind, Lady Lovet. I apologize for not telling you and upsetting your mother. It's just that you didn't seem to know who I was and you're perhaps the first person I've met who hasn't. It's funnier because I know we've met before, but you really didn't seem to recognize me."

I felt like sinking into the floor. I had met the prince before and I really didn't remember him.

I ducked my head slightly, embarrassed. "My mother often tells me I'm unobservant. I'm beginning to understand why."

He laughed and the sound made my heart flutter in my chest. "Well, if you read a lot, it's not that surprising. And I can't blame you. Books are much more interesting than real life, aren't they?"

He understands. The thought came to me unbidden, but it was a shocking—and not altogether displeasing—revelation. "They are, indeed," I said, a little breathlessly. A new song began to play and that meant I couldn't keep the prince any longer. I was, perhaps, being selfish having monopolized so much of his time already. "Forgive me for keeping you, Your Highness. A new song has begun and there are many women waiting for their turn to dance with you."

"Oh, right, that's true," he said haltingly. Was it my imagination or did he look a little disappointed? No, I'm certain it must have been my imagination, because a moment later, the look was gone and he smiled his charming smile. "Thank you for the dance, My Lady."

"The pleasure was mine, Your Highness," I said, curtsying.

And then he was gone, disappearing into the crowd to sweep another lady off her feet and promptly forget about me. The thought hurt more than it had any right to.

#

The night wore on in a blur. I talked to many people that knew my parents, often about possible marriage arrangements. I couldn't help but note the amount of suitors that asked Alice for a dance, all interested in marrying her, no doubt, and she never turned one away. But it was mostly for show. My mother and father were already working with King Henry to marry Alice off to Prince William.

I watched William dance with other women, who were all far better dancers than I. He moved gracefully, spinning the women around, catching them, dipping them. Each woman he danced with seemed to be more beautiful than the last, more graceful and elegant. And yet, he'd asked to meet with me, but I couldn't even compare with most of them. It was a daunting task, trying to measure up to the ladies that were already starkly better than me. Well, in all the ways that mattered.

He danced with women all night, acting pleasant, chatting with them as they danced. I couldn't hear what he said, but often he would make them blush, or laugh.

He even danced with Alice. She was an exceptional dancer, a much more suitable partner for the prince. Though, it made me want to curl into myself and hide at the fact that he danced with me and then her. What he must think of me now.

I tried to return to reading my book, but I found that I could not focus on the words and ended up rereading the same sentence several times. It was futile. So, instead, I just stared down at the page and pretended to read, hoping it would ward off any men who might want to dance or strike up a conversation. Of course, I could not be so lucky.

"So, what, exactly, are you reading?"

My head shot up and Prince William stood beside me, looking down at the page I'd been on since I'd reopened my book. My face warmed and I snapped the book shut to show him the cover. "Frankenstein,"

He grinned wryly, looking slightly abashed. "Alas, I haven't read it. Is it good?"

My mouth fell opened and I stared at him, wide-eyed. "You haven't read it before?"

"I have not. Is it worth the read?"

"Oh, yes, it's excellent. Very interesting."

He smiled his enchanting smile. "I will have to read it, then."

Before I could reconsider, I held out my own copy to him. "You can borrow it, if you like."

His eyebrows shot up as he looked between me and the book. "Are you sure? I do not want to deprive you of your book."

"Not at all," I replied. "I have read it before, so I already know what is to happen, anyway." I waved the book before him once more and he took it.

He held on to the book and stared down at the cover. "Thank you."

"Of course, Your Highness. Though, it is only a loan. I expect it to be returned to me at some point in the future."

He grinned and inclined his head slightly. "But, of course." He handed the book to a nearby servant with instructions to have it sent up to his room, before turning back to me. "I know this isn't exactly proper, but I really enjoyed our last dance together. Would you dance with me again?"

My heart stumbled in my chest. "You enjoyed dancing with me?"

"I did."

I couldn't help the bemused laugh that worked its way past my lips. "Do you pity me? Standing alone in my little corner while the others enjoy themselves? You feel bad for me. That is why you are asking for a second dance?"

His eyes widened and he shook his head quickly. "No, I— that isn't it at all. Truthfully, you seem to be enjoying yourself immensely, standing in your corner, reading your book."

"Then what other reason could there possibly be for you to want to dance with me again? I'm not a good dancer, as I've proven to you already this evening. I am not even an okay dancer. I am dreadful and clumsy and I embarrassed both of us with my lack of skill."

He tilted his head, regarding me carefully. "Did you consider that may be why I want to dance with you again? You're not perfect and you're incredibly clumsy, both in how you act and how you dance." My face reddened at that, but he continued, unaware, "But I enjoyed our conversations and I didn't mind that you stepped on my toes occasionally, or that one moment when you tripped me and we both nearly fell. I thought it was really funny and quite a lot of fun, actually.

I stared at him in shock. "Really?"

"Really. I always have to dance with every woman at every event, which I don't really mind. But it can get a bit dull, monotonous. The dances never vary that much, usually some form of waltz, and the conversation doesn't vary much either, often trite smalltalk that has me nearly bored to death. But not you. With you, the dancing was unpredictable, exciting, even. And I loved talking with you. I loved speaking with you about everything, but especially books. I loved our conversation about books." He cleared his throat, looking embarrassed. "What I meant by saying all of that, well, will you dance with me again, Lady Lovet?"

After everything he just said, I could only continue to stare at him in wonder. I didn't even know what to say, so all I said was, "All right," and placed my hand in his.

I took a deep breath to settle my nerves as he led me between the dancing bodies and began to lead me in another waltz, similar to the last one. I stepped on his foot after only a couple of steps.

He winced and I quickly apologized, which he waved away.

I tried to follow along as best I could, allowing him to lead me across the marble floor. "So," I began, "What kind of conversation do you usually have with ladies you dance with?"

He spun me and I did a sort of clumsy twirl. "It's mostly idle chitchat. Comments about the weather, discussions about hobbies, plans for the summer or winter season, likes and dislikes, the usual, I suppose."

"I see. Do you find it boring?"

"Not always, though I suppose sometimes I really just don't care. I try to care, or, at least, to pretend to care. It's just that I don't always want to hear what one does in their free time or their thoughts on how windy it's been lately."

"So, no conversations on weather, or hobbies, I'll keep that in mind."

His eyes widened. "Oh, no, I didn't mean—sorry, that's not—" In William's flustered state, he stepped on the hem of my gown, causing me to stumble backward. I gasped and flailed, reaching for his hand to keep my balance, but I only caught at his jacket and we tumbled to the floor in a heap of tulle and lace.

He caught me in his arms as we fell, so that I fell on top of him. When I opened my eyes, he lay on the floor, staring up at me, and I lay on top of him, our legs tangled together, our chests pressed together so that I could feel the rapid pounding of his heart through his shirt.

Neither of us moved for a long moment, frozen in time.

Then, his lips quirked into a smile. "Well," he said, sounding breathless. "I tripped you that time, so I think we both must be terrible dancers."

I laughed, surprised. "What a relief!" I said, breathless with laughter and the exhilaration of our fall. "I feel more evenly matched in our inability to dance now."

He began laughing too and I laughed so hard tears came to my eyes.

"Your Highness, are you all right?" A frantic voice said, effectively shattering the moment.

I stilled, the laughter dying from my lips. William's own eyes widened and I quickly climbed off of him and staggered to my feet.

"I'm fine," Prince William said as a servant helped him to his feet. A different servant straightened his lapels while guests looked over at us with mingled looks of confusion and disdain.

My face warmed and I looked down at my feet quickly.

"Really, I'm all right. Everyone, please return to the dance." William said, waving away the servants who continued to try and check on him.

With the moment over, the music began again. I stepped back, my face still burning with embarrassment as the ball resumed.

"Excuse me, Lady Lovet," William said, and my head snapped up. He stopped just before me, looking abashed. "I'm terribly sorry for tripping you. Are you hurt?"

"No, not at all. I thought it was rather refreshing that I was not the one who did it," I offered him a tentative smile, which he returned.

"Then, would it be all right with you if we finished the dance?"

I blinked at him. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Well, this time, if we end up in a similar state, no one will be surprised and I doubt they'll do more than dance around us."

I hesitated for only a second longer before nodding my head. "All right, then, let's finish our dance."

He took my hand and pulled me toward him, into the dance. After dancing in silence for a moment, William looked down at me. "What I said earlier was terribly rude and I apologize," he said, looking ashamed. Meanwhile, I could not for the life of me remember what he'd said that had been rude. I stared at him in confusion as he continued. "I should not have said that I don't care what other people say having to do with small talk. As future king, it's my job to care, so I shouldn't have said that."

"Your Highness," I began slowly. "I do not think you were rude at all. It was very honest, what you said, but not rude. I think it's all right to not care about what other people are saying. I usually don't."

He smiled, cheeks reddening, and my heart beat a little faster.

"What do you like to talk about then, if not the weather?" I asked, a slight teasing note to my voice.

"Oh, I don't know. It's not so much that I hate discussing the weather, but more that there is usually a series of questions and discussion points and it's the same with everyone, no matter what. It usually happens to have the weather on it."

I thought about that for a minute before an idea came to me. "What is your favorite fruit?"

I stared at me, looking confused. "My . . . favorite fruit?"

"That's right."

He smiled, still looking confused, but willing to play along. "I love plums. They are sweet, but still a little bit sour. I love them. What is yours?"

"My favorite fruit is blueberries. I've always loved them. During summers when I was a child, I would sneak down into the cellar and shove handfuls into my mouth at a time. I even threw up once because I ate so many."

He laughed. "I hope you didn't throw up into the barrels of blueberries."

"Oh, no, I could never! I turned away and threw up all over my gown. It was a terrible mess."

He tilted his head, grinning. "That is very interesting, but wouldn't that fall under the question of favorite berry, not fruit?"

I rolled my eyes, but I could not help smiling too. "Let's not argue semantics, Your Highness. Blueberries are a fruit." After a pause, I nudged him. "It's your turn. Ask me something."

"Like what?"

"Something unconventional. You said you get bored with really common topics of conversation. So, ask me something you've never asked before. And I don't mean something really personal or taboo. Just unusual, really."

He pressed his lips together as he considered and then his eyes lit up when he came up with something. "What is your least favorite season?"

"Summer."

"Summer, really?" He asked, surprised.

"I abhor summer. It is always stiflingly hot everywhere, you can't escape the heat. Plus, it's always too bright, sweaty, uncomfortable, everything smells bad. Plus, all we have to fight off the heat is a little fan, which doesn't do anything except push the hot air around. It's terrible. Anyway, there you have it. What's yours?"

"I'm not very fond of spring. I don't like rain very much and that seems to be all it does that time of year."

"What about the flowers that the rain helps grow?"

He wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Pollen gets everywhere. I spend the entire season sneezing and coughing, with watery eyes and a sore throat."

"That is a fair point." I paused to think of my next question—and stepped on his foot. I grimaced and ducked my head. "I'm sorry!"

He laughed softly. "It's quite all right."

"What is your favorite letter in the alphabet and why?"

After a moment, he answered, "The letter 'Q,' I think. I've never really considered it before, but I think I like that letter the most. It always feels a little out of place to me, like it doesn't really fit in where it is. Plus, I like the little tail it has, I think it's rather fun."

I smiled. "I've never considered that about the letter 'Q' before."

"I hadn't either, actually. I've learned something about myself today, it seems." He returned my smile. "And what about you? What's your favorite letter and why?"

"I like the letter 'V' a lot. I think it powerful. I usually really like words with the letter 'V' in them. They're pleasing to the ear. Like 'vivacious' or 'novel' or 'savior.'"

He titled his head, looking thoughtful. "I see what you mean. Those words have a nice ring to them."

"Don't they, though?" I said, right before missing the next step in the dance and stumbling.

Prince William caught me before I could send us both to the ground, thankfully. "I'm so sorry," I said, face burning.

"It's really all right. It certainly makes for an interesting dance," he said with a grin.

I returned his smile tentatively, though my face felt like it might burst into flames at any moment.

To my disappointment, the song came to an end and Prince William escorted me back to my previously-occupied corner.

I curtsied, as was customary to do at the end of a dance. "That was lovely," I said. "Thank you."

He bowed and then straightened. "It was an honor to dance with you again. In all honesty, you've been my favorite partner this evening."

I startled, eyes widening. "Are you certain?"

He nodded. "Quite."

Prince William turned and then hesitated, turning back to me. "Do you have plans tomorrow, Lady Lovet?"

I tilted my head as I thought, my heart beating harder. "No, not particularly."

"Forgive me for being so forward, but could we meet tomorrow, then?" He asked, his beautiful smile making my heart melt a little.

I hesitated. I knew my sister had plans for marrying him. Well, that plans were being arranged. I didn't want to ruin anything, but could I really just say no to the crown prince of Belhaven? Did I really want to?

"Of course." I said, heart thundering against my ribs.

"Tomorrow at midday?"

He nodded. "Just outside the palace gates."

I nodded and curtsied. "Goodnight, Your Highness."

"Goodnight, Erika of Locksley." He said, bowing, before he turned and disappeared into the throng of people, leaving me to sort out my confusing, oddly hopeful, thoughts.