"Good morning, Miss—" Agnes paused, gasping. "What happened to you?"

I rubbed my eyes, yawning, and looked down at myself. I hadn't even bothered changing out of my dress last night before falling into bed and going to sleep. I was still a complete mess. Panic flared inside me and I looked up at Agnes. "Please, don't tell Mother," I pleaded.

She pressed her mouth into a thin line and nodded resolutely. "Of course, Miss," she curtsied quickly and set down the tray of food she was carrying on the table by the window.

She left the room, keeping the door slightly ajar, and returned a moment later, followed by servants carrying a washtub.

I bathed and dressed quickly in an elegant forest green gown edged with gold.

After Agnes brushed my hair, she turned to leave.

"Thank you, Agnes," I said to her and I hope she was able to understand how grateful I was for her.

She nodded, offering me a sympathetic look. "My pleasure, Miss." She turned and left the room. As she left through the door, something fell out of her sleeve, landing with a clink.

I reached for the item on the ground. It was a key. "Agnes, you dropped—"

But she only glanced at me, a sly smile on her face, before she stepped out of my room and shut the door.

I smiled to myself, picking up the little brass key. I looked around my room for a place to hide it, one where Mother would never look. After a moment of contemplation, I went over to my bookshelf, pulled out a book a shelf above my head and dropped it in before sliding the book back into place. It felt a little obvious, but Mother had no reason to suspect I had a key at all and, even if she did, I doubted she would check my bookshelf for it, thinking that it was too obvious. It was the perfect spot, I should think.

After hiding the key, I went to my table and dug into my breakfast. It was a relatively plain meal: porridge, fruit, and tea. But it still tasted good.

I had just finished my meal when I heard a soft tapping sound. It was so quiet I thought I might have imagined it. I stilled and waiting, trying to confirm if I'd actually heard it or not. After a moment, the tapping came again.

I walked over to the balcony and pulled open the door. William stood before them, his hair tousled, his clothes slightly rumpled from the climb.

"William," I breathed, taking a step back in surprise. And then, a horrible thought occurred.

What if someone sees him? We will both be dead.

With that in mind, I took hold of his wrist and pulled him into my room. I peered out the door and looked around, but I could not see anyone that might have noticed. I shut the door and turned to him, eyes wide. "What are you doing here?"

He smiled, his sapphire eyes alight. "I have come to rescue you from your boredom."

I stared at him, uncertain. "Really?"

He nodded earnestly. "I hated the idea of you being trapped in your room all alone for the whole day. I thought, perhaps, we could spend the time together. That way you wouldn't be completely alone."

My heart ached at the unexpected kindness. "Thank you," I said. "I would love to spend my aloneness with you."

He grinned. "Excellent. Now what?" He looked around my room as though looking for something to do.

I laughed quietly—so that Mother could not hear, if she was nearby. "Surely, you cannot be bored already."

"I could never be bored with you, Erika," he said, meeting my eyes. His expression was so sincere, so open and honest.

My heart beat a little faster and I resisted the urge to look away, to downplay his comment. Before I could think of something to say in reply, there was a knock on the door.

Panic flared in my stomach. "One moment, please," I called.

I turned back to William to help him hide, but he was already crawling under the bed. As soon as he was out of sight, I took a breath to steady my nerves. "Enter," I said.

The lock clicked and Agnes stepped in. "Apologies, Miss, I am just here to take your breakfast dishes."

"Oh, yes, of course," I said, a little breathlessly.

She hurried over to the table and picked up my tray of dishes and, with a quick curtsy, left the room, locking the door behind her.

I let out a relieved breath. "She's gone," I said, though he probably already knew that.

He climbed out from under the bed and brushed dust off of his shirt. "I probably should have asked if you have a lot of people coming and going from your room throughout the day. Will I be spending most of my day under the bed?"

I shook my head quickly. "Agnes will be back around midday with another meal, but that will probably be it until this evening."

"Perfect," he took my hand and pulled me into his arms.

My breath caught in my throat and my face flushed at our sudden closeness. We were so close together that I could smell the soap-and-citrus wafting from his skin. I stood up on my toes and pressed my lips to his. He tasted of cinnamon.

His mouth moved against mine, his tongue ran along my bottom lip and I shivered in response.

"I saw you only yesterday," he murmured against my lips. "And, yet, I've missed you terribly."

"I've missed you just as much," I replied softly.

Reluctantly, I pulled away from him. We went to my bed and laid down beside each other, talking and laughing, as we often would. We read together and, at one point, took a nap.

It was so wonderful to be with him all day long. We had never gotten to spend so much time together.

At around noon, there was another knock at my bedroom door. William dove under the bed and I called for whoever it was—most likely Agnes—to enter.

Agnes brought in a tray of food, breads and cheeses mostly, and left it on the table. Once she'd left, William and I shared the food at the table near the window.

Rays of sunlight filtered through the glass to warm us while we ate. With the sunlight, the quiet, and the two of us just sitting and eating in relative silence, I felt more at peace than I had in a long time. Everything felt right. I wondered if this is what it would be like to be married to him. Meals together before a large window, asking after each other's day, discussing events and affairs. It felt perfect.

My stomach knotted as the realization set in that it most likely would never happen. Not with me, at least.

The rest of the day slipped by in a pleasant blur. We took supper together, as well. And we read before the fire after dark.

All too soon, William set his book down. "I should go," he said.

Disappointment settled in my stomach. "Right, of course," I replied. "I have had a lovely day with you, though."

He smiled. "I will try to come visit tomorrow, as well."

"I would love that. Though, I do not know how you managed to spend so much time here when I'm sure you are very busy as a prince."

He shook his head. "You are more important to me than my title or my work."

My face flushed pleasantly and I looked away.

I walked him to the balcony and opened the door. A cool breeze floated in, carrying the sweet smell of flowers with it. "Goodnight, William," I said.

"Goodnight," he said softly. He kissed me once, deeply, and then disappeared over the balcony railing.

#

He did not visit me the next day. I waited, looking out the window, wishing, hoping. But I was alone. Without lessons, without anyone to talk to, I was all alone.

I did not blame him, of course. I knew he must have a good reason for not showing up. Still, I could not help but be a little disappointed.

I took my meals, read books, wandered aimlessly around my room, trying what I could to stave off boredom. It hardly worked.

He did not visit me the next day, either. Or the next.

No note, no explanation, but no William. By day four, I stopped expecting him.

I was alone, each day, all day long. No one spoke to me, save Agnes, only occasionally. My bookshelf where I'd hid the key appeared to be taunting me. I wanted to use it, to sneak out of my room, to go to the palace, even just to go for a walk, but each time I considered it, fear gripped me at what Mother might do if she discovered that I was missing.

That evening, I sat before the fire, watching the flames eat away at the log. It was beginning to get too warm to need a fire, but without hardly anything to do besides read books I'd already read, it provided a small amount of entertainment.

There was a sharp knock at my door, but before I could even permit the person to enter, there was a sharp click as the bolt slid out of place and Mother stepped in.

"Erika," she said by way of greeting.

"Good evening, Mother," I replied, glancing over at her.

She sat in the chair beside mine, folding her hands primly in her lap.

"The marriage arrangements have been made," she said.

I stared at her, uncomprehending. Surely, I must have misheard. My heart pounded too loudly in my chest, my breath caught in my throat. "Excuse me?"

"The wedding will take place this spring. We will be helping with preparations, of course. I'm sure this is not a shock to you, but perhaps, still hard for you to hear. You are to act like you are happy for them. You will not sulk, or pout, or act in any childish manner, since this was inevitable. You knew this is how it would be." She was so cold as she said it, so factual. There was no emotion in her words, no sympathy or remorse, nor did she seem to be pleased. She was just . . . emotionless.

My hands began to shake and I pressed them into the folds of my gown to hide it. I took a shuddering breath. "Of course, Mother. I am . . . very happy for them." The lie tasted bitter on my tongue.

She nodded curtly. "There will be a ball to celebrate their engagement, but that is not for some weeks, yet. Until then, I will not have you talking with the prince or being around him, even. I do not want you to be tempted, dear. This is for your own good."

My own good. I gritted my teeth, attempting to tamp down on the anger that threatened to suffocate me. She had never acted for my own good before.

"Yes, Mother," I said, wincing at the way my voice trembled slightly.

If she noticed, she did not let on. She stood, brushing her hands over her skirt. "You are allowed to leave your room now. But it will go very poorly for I hear of you deciding to see him again, dear." The threat was heavily implied.

I swallowed, though my mouth had gone so dry it was a challenge. Instead, I only nodded. She turned and strode out of my room, shutting the door behind her with finality.

I remained in my chair, staring into the flames. I did not cry, as I expected too, nor did I get upset. This had been coming, I'd known that. I had always known. It was naive of me to hope, to dream that we would be together. Not when I'd always known this would be the result. He would marry Alice.

I closed my eyes, exhaling slowly. I did not really know what to do now. I wanted to go see him, hear what he might have to say. But I could not bring myself to move from my chair, let alone walk to the palace.

My heart ached. It felt as though there was an iron band wrapped tightly around it, squeezing, tighter and tighter, as though my heart might stop beating altogether. Of course, it beat for William, so perhaps it had stopped anyway.