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"No." Although I wasn't sure if it was true or not.

He watched me for a moment, looking thoughtful,

and then he pulled something out of his pocket. He placed it on top of the fish. It was a small carving—the one he'd been working on as I fished. It was a dog, rough and inelegant, but clearly modeled on Milton. "Maybe the bear likes knick-knacks, too."

It wasn't really for the witch. It was for me. It was a peace offering, and I accepted it with a smile.

He continued to follow me as we left the witch's

cave behind, eventually arriving in the clearing where we'd first met. I turned to face him, feeling awkward. He was tall and regal, and I wondered how I could ever have looked at him and not seen his nobility. "I feel like I should bow or something."

He rolled his eyes. "Please don't."

I couldn't just say goodbye and walk away. That felt
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entirely wrong. Instead, I extended my hand to him. "It was a very great honor to meet you."

He smiled at me, reaching out to shake my hand.

His fingers were strong and warm. "The honor was mine.

Thank you for teaching me to fish."

"You're welcome, sire." His eyebrows lowered, his smile turning into a glare, and I quickly amended, "Xavier."

I wanted to stay longer. I wanted an excuse to touch him again. I wanted this glorious, magical day to go on forever. But I had no way to make time stand still.

Reluctantly, I turned to leave. I was just entering the trees when he called out to me.

"Will you come again tomorrow?"

I turned to face him, although he was halfway

across the clearing. "I'm not sure if I can."

"I am the prince, you know," he said. "I could command you to come."

I couldn't tell if he was serious or teasing. "I would have to tell my aunt. Is that what you want?"

"No." His gaze dropped to the ground. "I suppose I hadn't thought of that."

He seemed genuinely disappointed. The thought of

it made my mouth dry. It caused a stir of butterflies in my stomach, and a rush of joy inside my chest.

Maybe. If I rose early. If I hurried through my

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chores. "I'll try to get away after serving lunch," I said.

His gaze met mine, and his smile was bright and

gorgeous and unbelievably infectious. "I'll be waiting."

* * * *

Aunt Cecile had let the other maids go years before, in order to save money. At first, my cousins had railed at the unfairness of being required to dress themselves. It wasn't long before any modesty they'd ever felt in my presence was overcome by a need to have somebody lace their corsets and brush their hair. Somehow over the years, I'd become embarrassingly adept at it.

My cousins knew the prince was in town, and

because they seemed to feel there was a chance they might see him at the market—and I dared not tell them

otherwise—I was required to spend extra time the next day on their thick, dark tresses. It was two hours past lunch when I finally managed to get away. I made my way through the woods with my heart lodged tight in my throat.

I felt silly. He was a prince, and I was a servant. Did I truly expect to find him waiting for me in the meadow like some heartsick lover? Did I really believe he had no better way to spend his time?

It was with a mixed sense of anticipation and dread
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that I neared the clearing, my fishing pole clutched firmly in my sweaty hand. I found him there, waiting, just as he'd promised. He was sitting on a fallen log in the middle of the clearing, alternately throwing his shoe for Milton and carving at a piece of wood. Milton nearly knocked me over in his excitement at seeing me, and Xavier smiled broadly at me as he stood, tucking the piece of wood into his pocket.

"You're here!" he said, spreading his arms as if to embrace me.

"Yes, sire." I tried to sound respectful, as I felt I should, but it was hard with such an enormous smile taking over my face.

He scowled good-naturedly at me. "Don't call me

'sire'." He eyed my pole. "Fishing again?"

"It gives me a reason to be gone." Otherwise, they'd wonder where I was all day. They'd come up with other chores for me to do.

Xavier retrieved his slightly-squished boot from

Milton's mouth. "I suppose I either have to reveal myself to your marriageable cousins or make peace with the fish."

I smiled. "I believe that's correct, sire."

"The fishes it is, then!" he said, pulling on his boot.

He glanced over his shoulder at me as he turned toward the river. "And stop calling me 'sire'!"

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* * * *

And so it was that my friendship with the prince

became the center of my life, for a few short days, at least.

Each afternoon, I managed to spend a few glorious hours in his presence. He'd meet me in the clearing, and he'd sit with me as I fished. Afterward, I'd leave two fish for the witch, and Xavier would leave whatever he'd carved that day—

one day a fox, the next day a kitten, the third day an owl.

Then he would follow me to the edge of the clearing and ask, "Will you come again tomorrow?"

Of course I would. I would have moved heaven and

earth to see him each and every day. Still, his presence was not without consequence.

My cousins were cranky and sullen. New dresses,

powders and perfumes, plus hours of grooming in hopes of catching Xavier's eye, and yet it seemed the prince had barely been seen by anyone, in or out of the palace. He wasn't at the theatre. He wasn't at the shops. He wasn't even in the library, and Jessalyn bemoaned an entire two hours spent checking the aisles, finding nothing but moths and some dusty old books.

Aunt Cecile oversaw the housework with a

newfound zeal. "What if the prince comes to call?" she
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asked at least once a day. "Will you have him find us in squalor?" Some days, it was all I could do not to blurt out that the prince had no intention of ever visiting her home.

He'd made it quite clear he intended to stay far away from my "marriageable cousins."

Not surprisingly, my attention to my chores became scattered at best. My sudden distraction did not go unnoticed. Aunt Cecile remarked at dinner that the glasses still had lipstick marks from the day before. Penelope complained her laundry had been washed, but not put away. Jessalyn noted the fireplaces hadn't been swept in days.

All three of them were getting rather tired of eating fish.

I ignored them all. The only thing I cared about was spending as much time with Xavier as I could. I stayed a bit longer with him each day. I knew I was asking for trouble and yet I couldn't seem to help myself. He was somehow invincible—a force of nature I couldn't stand against. A flood that carried me with or without my consent. If he beckoned, I felt compelled to follow. I was light as a feather, and he was the wind.

It wasn't because he was the prince. At least, that wasn't the
only
reason. Certainly having the attention of somebody so important was flattering, but that wasn't why I 23

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hurried to the meadow each day to meet him. The real reason was far more simple. It was the fact that he waited for me. He smiled at me. He asked about my day. He listened when I talked. He laughed at my jokes. He asked nothing of me, except for the apparent pleasure of my company. He never commented on my low social standing, or my worn and tattered clothes. He never mentioned the calluses on my hands, or the ashes in my hair, or the soot that stained my hands. And yet, he looked at me. He met my eyes when he talked. He spoke to me as an equal. He treated me as a friend.

He saw
me
, in a way nobody else in the world did. I was real to him. I mattered.

It was the most amazing gift I'd ever been given.

We had fun together, although we rarely did more

than fish and talk while playing fetch with Milton. I looked forward to it every day. Every minute I was not in his presence I spent thinking of when I'd see him again.

On the fourth day, though, I knew something was

wrong. He wasn't his normal, jovial self. He sat on his usual rock next to the river, although he stared down at his hands more than he looked at me. Milton had long since given up on fetch. He'd run off into the woods to find his own doggy adventure.

I waited for him to snap out of it, and when he

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didn't, I spent a long time debating whether I should ask what was bothering him. He was my friend—of course I should ask. On the other hand, he was the prince. It was none of my business.

"You seem upset today," I said at last. I tossed my line in the water and turned to watch him closely for signs I'd overstepped my bounds.

He didn't seem bothered by my words. He was

staring at his hands, fiddling with the ring he wore on the index finger of his left hand—his signet ring. "My father's quite cross with me, you know."

"Why is that?"

"All this time, he thought I'd been out courting a potential bride."

"And he found out otherwise?"

He continued to twist the ring on his finger. The ring symbolized his status as the prince. To him, it probably underscored the fact that he was not the crown prince. "I have something to tell you." His tone was so somber, somehow foreboding. "My father has taken things into his own hands."

"He's chosen a bride for you?"

"No." He shook his head, looking up at me at last.

"Not yet, at least."

"Then what?"

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He smiled, although not his normal, bright smile.

He seemed sad. "I'm sure your marriageable cousins will tell you all about it when you get home."

My cousins?

"Will you come to the clearing tomorrow, Eldon?"

"I'll try, of course, but—"

"Can you come earlier in the day?"

That would prove difficult. My aunt and cousins

were already cross with me. "I don't know if I can."

"The thing is…" He hesitated, and I was surprised to see a slow blush creeping up his cheeks. "Tomorrow will be the last day I'll have with you."

Was it possible my heart stopped beating? The

world seemed to spin around me. I felt sick.

Of course I'd known he wouldn't be around forever, but somehow, I'd let myself forget just how little time I might have with him.

One more day?

It wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

I had to swallow hard against a knot in my throat. I became aware of my fishing pole in my hand, the line being dragged away in the river as I stood there. It felt symbolic. I was as insignificant as my lure, and Xavier was the current.

He'd carried me for a while, but I could only go as far as my line allowed. He'd move on—down the hill, around the
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bend, toward the falling sun—and I'd still be here, on the bank of the river.

Only now, I'd be alone.

"Eldon?"

I had to force myself to speak. "Yes?" My voice came out a whisper. He probably couldn't even hear me over the sound of the rushing water.

"I won't be able to stay late tomorrow, but I'd really like to see you before I go."

"I'll be here."

* * * *

My cousins were indeed buzzing with news when I

arrived home. The king was throwing a ball.

It wasn't like any other ball I'd ever heard of. Every maiden in the township was invited, but none of the men.

Each girl was guaranteed one dance with the prince, and his bride would be chosen that evening. After that, the royal family and the princess-to-be would head back to the capital, and I'd never see him again.

I rose early the next day. I rushed about in a frantic effort to finish my chores so I could meet him, if only for a few minutes. But my cousins had other plans.

There was only one seamstress in town, and she'd

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been barraged by frantic women in need of dresses for the ball. My cousins didn't take priority. They knew they had to make do with what they had. Penelope bore it well, but Jessalyn was in a rage. We rushed about all day, trying to find something she approved of. We raided Aunt Cecile's closet, and called on the married woman next door as well.

Deidre did most of the sewing, but it seemed she constantly needed my help. Ruffles and petticoats were removed and re-sewn, necklines lowered, sleeves shortened. I was sent to town three different times, once for a sash, once for gloves, and a third time for earrings in an exact shade of blue. I felt each second tick by. The sand through the hourglass mirrored my hope as it drained away.

I'd never make it in time.

After that, I had to do their hair. Long, loose waves for Penelope, then Jessalyn's up in an artful tangle of curls.

I was a bit more forceful than usual as I strapped them into their corsets. Luckily, they were desperate enough to have tiny waists, they didn't object. And finally, they were bundled into our carriage and sent on their way.

At last, I was free.

I rushed through the forest. How long might he have stayed? Would I have a few minutes? The sun was already dipping low behind the tops of the wind-blown trees.

Just let me say goodbye.

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I stumbled into the clearing at last, and my hope died inside my chest.

It was empty.

"Xavier?" I called. Maybe he had only just left.

Maybe he'd hear me and come back. But there was no answer.

With a heavy heart, I made my way to the center of the clearing and the fallen log he always sat on as he waited. Sitting on top of it was a gift. It was one of his carvings. The others I'd seen had been rough—