William strode down the long corridor to his father's throne room. He clenched and unclenched his hands as he walked, unable to quite shake the feeling of anxiety that a formal meeting with his father always left him with. His eyes burned a little from exhaustion, and he had to stifle a yawn every now and then. He had left Erika's room in the small hours of the morning, while she had still been sound asleep. His heart had felt heavy when he had whispered a goodbye that she would not remember upon waking and climbed back down her balcony. Still, despite the very little sleep he'd gotten, at least he'd been able to see her and be with her.

He turned the corner and the grand oak doors appeared before him at the end of the hallway. The throne room was his least favorite room in the palace. It was usually the place where his father would reprimand him or give him bad news or force him to meet potential brides.

"Do you know what he is going to speak to you about?" Gabriel asked, seeming to appear out of nowhere to join William.

"Do I ever?" William replied grimly, narrowing his eyes at the door that seemed to get farther and farther with each step he took toward it.

Neither of them said anything for a moment, the only sound the clinking of the scabbard at Gabriel's belt. "William," Gabriel said, suddenly serious.

William glanced at his friend. "Yes?"

"Just . . . think before you speak."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You never do where your father is concerned. I am just thinking that, perhaps, he might go a bit easier on you if you think carefully about what you say to him. Try not to upset him."

"Thank you," William said flatly. "That is very helpful."

"Only looking out for you," Gabriel replied with a grin.

Thinking on Gabriel's words, William thought he might have known what this conversation would be about, more so than he was letting on, at least.

After what seemed an impossibly long time, they'd reached the door at the end of the hall. Two guards who were posted on either side bowed to them and let them into the throne room.

William's stomach knotted in dread. They were expecting him. He stepped through, leaving Gabriel out in the hall. The doors echoed shut behind him, far too loud in the silence. Immediately, he felt the oppressive air around him and he took a steadying breath to calm himself.

King Henry sat on his throne, his back rigid, his dark eyes cold and calculating, as William walked toward him.

The throne room had always been a bit too . . . extravagant for William's liking. The throne his father sat on was made entirely of gold, with a plush red velvet cushion to sit on. It was so large that Father's feet only just brushed the ground. The throne beside it was smaller and more elegant, meant for the queen. The floor was tiled with hand-carved marble and small gold designs. Thousand-year-old tapestries lined the walls, depicting stories that had long-since been forgotten. A golden chandelier hung from the domed ceiling; it was so large that it covered nearly the entire ceiling, hanging from gold chains woven through with strings of pearls. On the parts of the ceiling that were not covered by the chandelier, more designs were carved into the wood, telling stories in dead languages.

William stood before his father and bowed deeply. "Your Majesty," he murmured respectfully.

"Rise," the king's voice rang out across the room with an authority that William had always found admirable—and very intimidating.

William did as he was told, straightening, and then looked up at his father. "You called for me?"

"I did. Your mother and I have been working with Lord Lovet of Locksley on a marriage arrangement between you and his daughter, Lady Alice Lovet."

William's blood ran cold. Of course, he already knew all of that, but hearing it out loud made it feel that much more real. "With all due respect, Your Excellency," he began, considering Gabriel's warning to him. "I do not wish to marry Lady Alice."

The king raised an eyebrow. "And why is that, William?"

"I do not think she is right for me."

William's father laughed—a harsh, unexpected sound. "It does not matter if she is right for you. She will make a great leader and a great queen someday. I want you to get to know her. Perhaps you will change your mind."

"Father," William began slowly. "I am not interested in getting to know her." I might be in love with her sister, were the words that kept forming in his mind, but would not quite make their way to his lips.

The king's mouth thinned into a grim line. "This is not a request. You will take an interest in her, William. You will act as though you want to be with her, because it is very likely that you will marry her. Is that understood?"

William's mouth went dry as he fought back panic. "Father," he tried again. "What if I were to marry Erika Lovet instead?"

King Henry's eyes flashed with an understanding that William did not particularly like. "I see," he said slowly. "You know, I have been wondering who it was you've been meeting lately." He held up a hand to silence William before he could object. "Do not deny it. You would be lying. And, while I am your father, I am your sovereign above all else. You must remember that I have eyes and ears everywhere. It is an interesting idea to bring up, however, the agreed-upon arrangement is with Lady Alice, not her sister."

"How does that make sense?" William said before he could stop himself. "I do not want to marry Lady Alice and marrying Lady Erika would accomplish the same thing. She is still Lord Lovet's daughter."

The king narrowed his dark eyes on his son and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. "You have not had that long to get to know Lady Erika. What makes you think you would want to marry her over her sister?"

"I have spent far less time with Alice. What makes you think I should marry her instead?" William shot back, his temper rising.

The king also looked as though his temper were rising. He glared at William. "What that sharp tongue of yours, boy," the king warned. "Do you think you love Lady Erika? Is that it?" He laughed condescendingly. "What you feel for her is not love. You have not known her for long enough to develop such strong feelings. It is merely a fancy or a minor infatuation."

William resisted the urge to bring up Romeo and Juliette, who fell in love a lot faster than Erika and William had. But he resisted, remembering how their story ended.

Instead, he took another step toward his father's dais. "How would you know what love is, what it looks like? That is certainly not what you feel for Mother."

The smile fell from his father's face, replaced by a look that could have frozen Hell. "I have been patient with you and listened to your feeble argument about why you should not have to do your job as the next king. But no more. You will be marrying Alice Lovet and that is final. I do not want to catch you talking with her sister, nor do I want you to spend any more time around her at all. Your midnight dalliances have come to an end. Is that understood?"

So many thoughts crowded William's head, trying to make their way to his lips. So many things he wanted to say, wanted to fight. But he did not allow any of those. Instead, all he could bring himself to say was, "Of course, Your Majesty," and bowed his head low, more in defeat than reverence.

"Excellent," and his father turned to speak to the retainer next to him, which meant William had been dismissed.

He clenched his hands into fists, turned, and strode from the room.

Gabriel still waited for him in the hall, and, by the look on his face, he appeared to have hears everything.

"Well, that was . . ." He cleared his throat, seeming to search for the right word. "Awkward," he finished at last, looking defeated.

William cut him a glance as they walked back down the hall. "You saw that coming." It was not a question.

Gabriel smiled, though it looked more like a wince. "I did not know for sure, but I know you, and I know your father, so I had my suspicions."

Sighing heavily, William turned the corner that led down the corridor to his chambers. "Of course, you did," he said dryly.

"I'm sorry."

William did not know if Gabriel was apologizing for how the meeting went, what they discussed during the meeting, or for not warning him about what would come up during the meeting. Though, it did not really matter. The words felt empty and hollow, anyway.

"Me too, Gabriel," William said as he reached his chambers. He pushed open the door into his bedroom and shut it swiftly behind him, needing a moment alone to gather his thoughts.