Paper! Paperboy!

Willem was back in the square the next morning, his newspapers tucked under one arm and a loaf of bread sticking out of his satchel. He was mid-shout—

"Extra! Extra! King postpones tax hikes! Commoners celebrate, nobles sulk!"—

when a voice interrupted him.

"Paperboy! Up here!"

Willem froze. There, standing on the roof of the inn, was Elizabeth.

"What are you doing up there?" he yelled, craning his neck.

"Thinking," she replied dramatically, placing a hand on her forehead like some tragic heroine in a play. "About life. About freedom."

"Freedom to fall and break your neck?" Willem called back. "Because you're halfway there!"

Elizabeth laughed and hopped down onto a ledge, causing Willem's heart to jump into his throat.

"Stop that!" he barked.

Elizabeth grinned. "You're worried about me?"

"Worried about the mess, more like," Willem muttered. "Get down before someone sees you. Or worse, before your mother sees you."

At the mention of Lady Catherine, Elizabeth's grin vanished. She climbed down, jumping the last few feet to land in front of him. "Mother won't notice. She's busy writing letters to every noble in the kingdom, trying to find me a 'proper match.'"

"A proper match?" Willem repeated, wrinkling his nose. "Like... for a bonfire?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "For marriage, paperboy."

Willem blinked. "You? Married? You can't even sit still long enough to finish a game!"

"Exactly!" Elizabeth exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. "How am I supposed to marry some boring lord who probably spends all day talking about grain prices?"

"Well, maybe you'll get lucky, and he'll be allergic to you," Willem said, smirking.

Elizabeth laughed, but there was a sadness in her eyes that Willem couldn't ignore.

"Hey," he said, softening his tone. "You're not going to marry anyone you don't want to. Not if you've got a say in it."

"And what if I don't have a say?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Willem hesitated. He wanted to tell her it would all work out, that she'd find a way to escape whatever cage her family tried to put her in. But he knew life didn't always work that way.

"Well," he said, scratching the back of his head. "If all else fails, you could always join me in the paper-selling business. I hear it's a great way to stay single."

That earned him another laugh, and for a moment, the tension melted away.

But just as Willem was about to change the subject, a loud voice cut through the square.

"Lady Elizabeth!"

Both of them turned to see a man in armor striding toward them. His face was set in a scowl, and his hand rested on the hilt of his sword. Willem didn't need an introduction to know this was trouble.