"TELL ME A story." Prince Elric said after taking a large sip of mead. He looked at me over his goblet's rim, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, his eyes sparkling in the lamplight. I dried my hands on a cloth after cleaning up the kitchen while Elric polished off the first batch of cookies.

"Aren't you a little old for bedtime stories?" I teased as I sat beside him. Our knees touched, and in true medieval fashion, I felt my cheeks heat.

"Tell me your story. Preferably something that surprises my father more than Lady Joan remarking on the location of this castle."

I couldn't help but laugh. Even if she didn't know it, she had a way of breaking the ice. "Were discussing my plans for the future not enough?" I asked. The shocked, disappointed look on his face reminded me of my mom's, when she'd found out I dared to chase a dream of going to Stanford. "I think that surprised him more."

"The King can be...traditional," Elric said, obviously choosing his words with care. He chewed on his bottom lip, and traced the family crest engraved on the ring on his pinky finger. "If something doesn't fall in line with his plan, then he casts it aside.

"When I was a small boy – couldn't have been older than six – my father already had my older brother, Roderick, into following his lead. Rod would wake at dawn for council and artillery meetings before breakfast, then tutoring, only to break when another meeting or treaty needed the King's attention. Rod was forced to observe, even discussions of possible war. All things that aren't meant for a child. He did it all without complaint. It angered my father I was not just as compliant."

I reached for his arm, about to rest my hand on his, but I stopped short. My fingers brushed the sleeve of his shirt. "That somehow doesn't surprise me."

He chuckled. "I liked getting my hands dirty. I was out in the stables or sneaking out to watch the knights train. I had a fondness for our gardens, and the creatures that lived inside of them. My father and I had arguments about my recklessness – but one time I retaliated by picking every worm in the garden I came across for at least fifteen minutes, and put them all over my father's desk, in the drawers, even on his chair."

"No," I laughed again. I could barely remember feeling as... light as I was with Elric. Even though I felt like I was floating, my hand finally found the courage to rest on his. I startled when he flipped his palm and held onto my hand. "How you're alive to tell the tale is beyond me!"

"My mother," he answered, even though the question was meant to be rhetorical. "She's been saving me from those dungeons since that incident."

"She loves you very much. I saw the pride in her eyes at supper."

"It's one of my few wishes. To make them proud." His smile was faint, but earnest as he looked down at his ring. I understood it. It had been one of my few wishes, as well. "Truth be told, I'm entering the tournament as a means to prove to my parents – mainly my father – that I'm capable. Even if my brother is the rightful heir, I want the people to see me me as a worthy royal servant, too."

His thumb rubbed tiny circles on the back of my hand, as he'd done so many times. His decision to participate in the tournament was another contrast to the royal family I read about in Velein. Prince Elric was striving to prove his worth to his people.

I reached for the black rubber band on my wrist to tie my hair back into a ponytail. Like Jo's combat boots, it was the only modern thing I kept from the outfit I woke up here in. When I looked up, I found Elric frowning. "How'd you do that?" he asked.

"What?" I asked. He twirled his finger around his head. My hair. "Oh, um, with a ponytail."

He was even more bewildered. "A pony... what?"

"Oh!" Right. This was not a typical medieval style. "It's a... a name we call this. I do it with this stretchy hair band."

I pulled the elastic out of my hair and held it out. Elric took it quizzically. "I've never seen anything like it before. I use a leather string to tie my hair back when jousting."

"Here." I slid the hair tie over his hand and let it settle around his wrist. I realized too late how close it put me to him as I straightened up. I had to look away before he could see how red my face was becoming. "You could... try it, if you want."

When I looked up, his arms were smoothing his own hair back, his tunic sleeves settling over his biceps. They looked huge under the thin fabric. I loved period romances, but I was coming to a far better understanding for the heroines than before. He pulled the elastic around his hair, fashioning it into a bun instead of a ponytail. I suddenly couldn't decide which version of him I liked more: hair down, or hair pulled back.

"You should keep it." I couldn't believe how breathless my voice sounded to my own ears. "It's no handkerchief, but consider it my token for good luck tomorrow."

"I'll treasure it," he said in a low tone, reaching for my hand again. His gaze was so soft, his smile small but warm. It sent heat through me.

"What about you?" he suddenly asked, breaking the spell between us. "I told you one of my childhood stories. Now tell me one of yours."

I sighed. What was the perfect backstory for a Canterwell girl? Noble girls wouldn't be caught dead sneaking out of their house to meet Jo in Dustin's garage for a rehearsal/party. They wouldn't swing from an old rope into a dirty pond. What was enough information to pacify Prince Elric but vague enough that he wouldn't catch on to my lies?

Maybe I could be a little more truthful instead.

"There isn't much to tell." I picked at the skirt of my dress. "I've lived a sheltered life, experiencing much of it from the inside of different books. If I didn't have Jo, I wouldn't have a personality at all."

"I find that hard to believe."

"And why is that?"

He chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "You can't attribute your personality to your cousin's doing. You're two very different people. You need to give yourself more credit."

"Do you remember out of the two of us who threw punches first?"

Prince Elric turned my hand over in his, letting the back of my hand rest in his palm. Painfully slow, he traced his finger across the lines of my palm. His touch was as light as a feather. A shiver ran down my spine. "What're you doing?"

"Shh... I'm reading," he said, then winked at me. I could've melted off my seat. "This line by your thumb tells me you're a very brave person. But you see how it's broken here, it also tells me you've been through struggles in your life. You've seen more in life than the inside of a book, and it has not always been easy for you.

"And this line, right here," he traced the lines that were divided into three sections. "This is the fate line. It tells me your life will have big changes."

It was hard to disagree when my best friend and I were miraculously sucked into my favorite book in a McDonald's parking lot.

He traced another line beneath my fingers and smiled. "This is your heart line. It's long, and that means you're a good partner. And see how it starts at your forefinger? That means a happy, fulfilled love experience is predicted."

I shook my head. "You got all that from my hand?"

He didn't look away. "It shows me what I've already seen. Your heart is big, and that you worry, and that your concerns are justified. I think everyone fears the future, but you don't need to. Your goal, at its core, is noble."

My heart swelled to the point it was going to burst. "Whether I can achieve it will make it another thing entirely. I appreciate your confidence in me, though. You're a good prince, Elric Von Stetton, but you're an even better person."

With a burst of confidence, I placed my hands on either side of his face, pulling him forward as I leaned in, and kissed him. Or tried to. My forehead bumped into his, squishing my nose into his nose. My lips slid against his, but his mouth didn't move. No part of him did. He still had his hands braced against my shoulders because he thought I was falling.

I'd never kissed anyone. I didn't know what to expect, not really. But it felt nothing like the movies or the kisses I read in books lead me to believe. I felt the curve of his bottom lip under my mouth, the ridges of his teeth. Was I supposed to feel that?

Elric's grip on my shoulder tightened and he pushed me away, ending it as fast as it started. A thin trail of saliva from my mouth strung out between our lips. And Elric looked surprised, and not a good kind of surprise. "Claire–"

"I'm so sorry." I jumped off the stool, gathered my skirts in my hand, and ran for my life.

"Claire, wait! Where are you going? Claire!"

I was out of the door, running past confused servants in my bumbling dress. The secret door was still cracked open, and pulling it out was much harder than Prince Elric made it look. The door was heavy. Somehow, with the surge of adrenaline, horror, or embarrassment, I managed to shove myself through. Then I tripped over my dress on my ass.

"Claire!" I could hear Prince Elric's footsteps. I needed to get away, get back to the safety of my room. Moments ago, I wanted to be close to Elric and now I wanted miles, a whole realm, between us.

I took the stairs two steps at a time until I reached the top, until the silence of that separation seeped into my bones. I had the chance of having the perfect first kiss with a gorgeous prince, of having the chance to claim something in my life, and I blew it.

I half-walked, half jogged to my room. As soon as I shut the door and enclosed myself in the dark that had come with the night, tears burned at my eyes. For the first time since I got here, I wanted that portal to come back. To send me where I belonged.

How was I going to show my face at the tournament tomorrow?