We both read for some time, but, eventually, it lost its appeal, so I set my book down and William and I talked, instead. It was nice, being able to just talk with him as if he were like me, instead of being the crown prince of an entire country.

He moved from the bed to the armchair beside mine so that we could continue talking. At one point, when conversation had ceased and we just sat beside each other in comfortable silence, William spoke. "Erika," he began slowly, watching the flames dance in the hearth.

I glanced over at him. "Yes?"

"What happened between you and your sister to create such a rift?"

I stilled, surprised by his question and trying very hard not to show it. "Why are you asking about that all of a sudden?" The question came out sharper than I intended.

"It just came to me and I was curious. Your relationship with her seems to affect much of your life and, well, I want to get to know you better."

My stomach knotted and I looked away quickly. Even when she was not here, conversation always led back to her.

"You can know me in a lot of ways without bringing up subjects that are triggering to me, William."

His eyes widened slightly and he shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I did not mean to upset you. I was simply curious, that is all."

"Why? What would make you think I am comfortable talking about it if I have not brought it up myself? What about any interaction we've ever had would tell you I am comfortable talking about my sister and my relationship with her?"

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "Erika, I'm sorry. I knew she was a sensitive topic for you, but I suppose I did not know how sensitive. I would never intentionally try to hurt you or make you talk about something that is uncomfortable for you."

My chest felt tight and my eyes burned. It was amazing how quickly my sister could sour the mood. And she was not even present.

"We can talk about something else," William offered after a couple seconds of silence while I fought to remain composed.

But the moment was ruined. "I must be going. Thank you for having me." I stood, still holding the book I'd borrowed.

"Erika—" William took my hand in his, but I pulled away quickly.

"I apologize again for coming unannounced." I replaced the book on the bookshelf where I'd found it.

William pressed his lips together, looking like he wanted to say more. "I shall escort you home, then," was all he said.

Commander Gabriel waited for us at the front gates, ready to walk us back to the Lovet estate. He bowed to us formally and allowed us to lead the way through the gates, keeping several paces behind us to at least give us the illusion of privacy.

The walk home was . . . awkward . . . to say the least. Despite the warm night, the fresh air, the endless sky above us, the silence felt suffocating.

When we said goodbye that night, it felt too stiff, formal in a way it never had before. My throat felt tight as we stood before my front door, perhaps each waiting for words the other didn't know to say.

In the end, the words remained unsaid and I stepped inside and shut the door behind me without a backward glance in at William. It was almost a relief to be away from him after the awkwardness of our evening. The feeling of relief surrounding his departure was unfamiliar and unpleasant. I hoped I never felt like this around him again.

#

William and I had not made plans to see each other again. Still, I felt uncomfortable with how we left things the night before and decided I would go see again. Every argument I read about in novels always had a resolution. That was what William and I needed.

That night, I waited for Mother and Father to go to bed, before sneaking down to the front door and heading for the palace. It was a warm spring night and the smell of flowers floated on a light evening breeze. It was very pleasant.

I reached the palace gates and found the willow tree unoccupied. My heart sank in disappointment. I supposed I'd expected him to be waiting under the tree anyway, even though we did not plan for it. I stared at the tree for several heartbeats, as though I could will William to appear. To my dismay, he did not.

I debated going into the palace to look for him. Perhaps he was in his rooms as he was last night. Though, I quickly squashed the thought, remembering with mild horror how that had gone the last time.

With a defeated sigh, I turned and made my way back the way I'd come, up the path, taking the twists and turns as necessary. The streets were dark and empty, lit only by the occasional oil lamp and marked by the occasional passerby.

When I reached my home, I sneaked inside as quietly as I could and went back up to my room. I began taking pins out of my hair and setting them on my vanity, when there came a soft knock at my balcony doors.

I stilled, my breath catching in my throat. I hurried over and opened the balcony door to reveal William standing on the other side, his hair mussed from the climb, his clothes slightly rumpled.

"William," I said, surprised and a little confused.

He ran his hands through his hair to calm it, though, if anything, it only made it worse. "May I come in?"

I stepped out of the doorway to allow him entrance and closed it behind him.

I opened my mouth to ask what he was doing here, but I did not get the chance to ask it, before he jumped into an explanation.

"I did not like how we left things yesterday and so I wanted to mend them. I'm sorry, Erika. I did not mean to say anything that would hurt you and I didn't realize bringing her up would. I care about you, not her. We don't ever have to talk about her if you never want to."

My face warmed and I smiled. "Thank you, William. All is forgiven."

He returned my smile. "Thank goodness. I could not stand the idea of you being angry with me."

"It would never last," I replied. "Do not fear."

"It is still pretty early in the evening. Would you, perhaps, want to go for a walk?"

I nodded. "Yes, I would love to."

We sneaked out of my bedroom—I made sure to lock my door behind me—and hurried down the stairs, out the front door, which was, thankfully, unguarded. I could not imagine the rumors that would have started circling through our house if one of the servants found me sneaking a boy out of my room.

Once outside, William held out his arm to me and I placed my hand at his elbow and allowed him to lead me down the road. The night air was still warm, despite the hours since the sun had gone down, and there was a light breeze. Crickets chirped and leaves rustled as we strolled down the street toward the city proper.

Neither of us spoke for several minutes as we listened to the sounds of nighttime that enveloped us. It was so pleasant. When we could no longer see my house in the distance, we slowed our pace a little, suddenly more relaxed. We began talking softly, feeling the need to be quiet on the barren streets.

"How many women have you danced with?" I asked curiously.

He laughed softly, lifting his eyes skyward. "Too many to count, I should think."

I nodded slowly, thoughtfully.

"How many men have you danced with?" He asked, glancing over at me.

"William, you know I cannot dance."

He rolled his eyes, smiling. "I think you are an excellent dancer."

My face heated at the unexpected, yet entirely false, compliment. "That is quite untrue and you know it."

"I do not mind the way you dance, Erika."

I paused my walking, my hand falling from his arm, and he came to a stop with me. "I have been learning how to dance," I said, louder than I intended. I was thankful it was too dark for him to see me blush.

He turned his blue eyes on me, which looked almost black in the moonlight. "You have? Why?"

"I was completely mortified by how awful I was when we danced at the ball some weeks ago. So, I tried dance lessons. I have improved much, I think." My voice faded toward the end as I began to get self-conscious.

"Well, then, you should show me," William offered me his hand. "Dance with me?"

I smiled and placed my hand in his. "I would love to."

He pulled me closer, placing his free hand on my waist, and I placed my other hand on his shoulder. He led me in the dance, as we waltzed down the street. I looked up into his eyes and found that I could not have looked away if I'd wanted to.

William spun me and I snapped back into his arms. I felt as though we were gliding on water as we danced, for I could hardly feel the ground beneath my feet. He lifted me up, causing me to gasp, and twirled me again. My gown brushed against my legs, spinning out with each movement.

I lost track of how long we danced, up and down the deserted street, with only the stars to watch. He twirled me again and I closed my eyes, as we both got lost in the music that could be heard by no one but us.

It felt as though I was no longer in control of my body. I danced as if I had been dancing for an eternity, as if I would grow wings and fly. The moon lit the street before us, along with the occasional street lamp, lighting our way, as if guiding us.

I opened my eyes to find William watching me, a smile playing about his lips. Neither of us spoke, as though speaking would cause this moment to break apart, and we would land back in reality. I don't think either of us wanted that quite yet.

He lifted me off my feet once more, spinning me around, before setting me down again. Our eyes stayed locked on each other; we did not need to see where our feet were going. They seemed to be guiding us on their own, knowing exactly where to go.

And then, we were no longer moving. I did not know when we'd stopped, but we stood in the middle of the street, our gazes locked on each other. We were both breathing hard, whether from exertion, exhilaration, or both.

And then, he leaned down toward me, and I stood up on my toes, closing the gap between us until our lips met. His lips were soft and tasted sweet. My eyes slid shut and my lips parted against his. I wrapped my arms around him and clasped my hands behind his neck, deepening the kiss.

He seemed to understand and his arms tightened around my waist, pulling me against him until there was no space left between us. Until one could not tell where one ended and the other began. This moment felt like the closest I would ever come to magic. I felt like sparks flew between us as our lips brushed each other's. And, on this empty street, where there was no sound except that of our ragged breathing, where we could only see by the light of the moon, where it felt as though we were the only two people left in the entire world, I realized that I was falling in love. Madly, deeply, irrevocably in love.