Paper! Paperboy!

The next morning in St. Pete was business as usual—or so Willem thought. He was back in the square, waving a newspaper in one hand and a bread roll in the other, shouting the latest news like it was the most exciting thing to happen since someone accidentally set the town well on fire last summer.

"Extra! Extra! King announces new tax on... uh... something probably expensive! Read all about it!"

The bakery door swung open, and out stepped Roland, shaking his head. "Willem, you've got to actually read the headlines before you shout them."

"But where's the mystery in that?" Willem quipped, grinning as he stuffed the last of his bread roll in his mouth. "Keeps the people curious."

As if summoned by fate—or sheer coincidence—a familiar voice interrupted.

"Paperboy!"

Willem turned, and there she was again. Elizabeth Bellmore, standing in the middle of the square like she owned it (which, technically, her family probably did). Her golden hair caught the morning light, and her blue eyes sparkled with what Willem could only describe as trouble.

"Oh, it's you," Willem said, pretending to groan. "I thought nobles were supposed to be too busy counting gold coins to visit us common folk twice in one week."

Elizabeth smirked. "I told you I'd be back. Do you have today's paper or are you still making jokes about chairs?"

Willem held out a newspaper. "News first, jokes later. That'll be one copper."

She raised an eyebrow. "I thought the first one was free."

"It is," Willem said, shrugging. "This is the second. You nobles know how counting works, don't you?"

Elizabeth laughed, earning a few surprised looks from nearby townsfolk. She reached into her purse and handed him a coin.

"Thank you kindly, Lady Bellmore," Willem said, giving a mock bow that was so low he nearly fell forward.

"You're clumsy," Elizabeth observed, trying to hide her grin.

"Ah, but it's part of my charm," Willem replied, steadying himself.

Elizabeth opened the newspaper and began reading, but her face quickly shifted into a frown. "This article says the Grand Collar Knight's council is planning a banquet. That's not news, that's boring."

"Banquets are boring?" Willem asked, leaning against a post. "Let me guess—too many forks, not enough food?"

"Exactly!" Elizabeth exclaimed, clearly delighted someone finally understood. "Why do I need three different spoons for one soup?"

"Don't ask me," Willem said with a shrug. "My only spoon broke last winter. I've been using a piece of wood ever since."

Elizabeth stared at him, wide-eyed. "You're joking."

"Of course I'm joking," Willem said, smirking. "I use my hands. Much faster."

That set Elizabeth off again, her laughter ringing through the square. Lady Catherine, emerging from the bakery with a fresh loaf in hand, stopped in her tracks at the sight of her daughter chatting so freely with a paperboy.

"Elizabeth," she said sharply, striding over. "We are leaving. Now."

Elizabeth sighed, her humor deflating instantly. "Yes, Mother." She glanced at Willem and gave him a small, conspiratorial smile. "See you around, paperboy."

"Looking forward to it, Lady Spoons," Willem called after her.