Willow knew he was in trouble. He wanted to see Maelyn again. He had returned to his studies, which normally engrossed him, but she was all he could think about. He wanted to talk to her. Sit with her. Look at her face. He loved the way she wore her hair up, with small curls escaping at the nape of her neck. He loved the tilt of her eyebrows as she listened to him speak.

Oh boy. Willow knew where these feelings would lead if he let them. Question being, would he let them? Or was he going to fight them?

He gave up trying to read History and Development of the Western Realms and left his chamber. "Going for a walk!" he called out, hoping his mother was close enough to hear. He skipped down the stairs to the first floor.

"Shouldn't you be studying?" The voice belonged not to his mother, but to his sister Maple. Sounded as if she was in the parlor.

Willow bristled. "Shouldn't you be?" He darted out the front door before she could reply. Both he and Maple had started at Grunwold University at the same time, but for reasons unknown to him, Maple quit attending. Yet that didn't stop her from plaguing Willow whenever she thought he was slacking.

He headed down the street, bound for the beach. This section of Grunwold, known as Windy Corner, was among the oldest parts of the kingdom, and the manors he passed were over a century old. Well-built, but weathered and grayed, like rows of wizened old men. The streets, too, were in continuous repair, and one had to watch for random holes in the cobblestones or risk turning an ankle. A neighborhood that used to have more money than it did now.

But Willow had grown up here and loved every crack and corner of it, even the greenish mold that tended to creep up house walls. He could make the half-mile walk to the beach blindfolded, and knew his neighbors by the backs of their heads. He greeted a few as he walked along, the wind sweeping his blond hair off his forehead. He and his brothers always entered the beach the same way, through the southwest gate, accessed by a dark and dank-smelling alley. Something about the darkness of that alley giving way to the bright, spacious beach made it feel like a surprise every time.

"Hello, Sir Regan!" He patted the shoulder of the knight who'd stood at that gate forever, and passed through. Grunwold was a walled kingdom, with multiple gates and fortifications to keep out invaders. But Willow had known only peacetime in his life, which meant small problems got inflated, as peacetime problems tended to be. A recent hurricane in Bella Reino had affected commerce and no one had any lemons or oranges. It was all the kingdom could talk about.

When his feet touched the sand, he removed his loafers and carried them. From stories he'd heard, the world had better beaches, with sands like fine powder, and palm trees of dazzling green. The sand here was coarse and gravelly, and only scruffy bushes grew on the shore. Didn't matter. He'd had barrels of fun on this beach with his brothers. And sometimes even with Maple.

He found a dry place to sit and watched the waves slide in, slowly flattening a sand structure built by children (most likely) from earlier that day. He missed his brothers. Poor Rowan had died. Alder had married last year and now awaited his first child. Only Maple remained at home, but she and Willow shared nothing. He felt his life shifting, his happy childhood vanishing, wave by wave, like the little sand structure before him. Soon no trace of it would remain. It was time to construct a new life, with new people in it. Make a solid plan for the future.

The sun warmed the top of his head, and the heat was just beginning to feel uncomfortable. Summer was nearing. In just a few weeks, his rides to Runa would be done under a sweltering sun.

He couldn't wait.

Truthfully. He could not wait to see Maelyn again. He wanted King Jarrod to summon him immediately and send him back there. He needed an excuse to leave today. Anything.

In some ways, he already had one. Maelyn had given him another book to trade with the Miser. Willow hadn't felt confident enough to try, and Ivy's urgent letter for Prince Roald had driven him back to Grunwold. He had the book in his room, a decrepit old volume called The Carnivorous Carriage. He'd peeked at the first page and saw an archaic, florid writing style he didn't normally care for. And the book was long. He would need time to read it so he could convince the Miser, and his studies were getting in the way.

His professors didn't trouble him when they learned Willow had been hired by King Jarrod. The king's wishes could not be crossed, especially because he heavily funded the university. They were accommodating Willow, allowing him to study at a slower pace, and take breaks for travel. It left him behind his fellow students, which bothered him. But every time he saw Maelyn, it bothered him less.

I like her, Willow admitted to himself. I like her very much. He sensed a similar soul in her, a shared temperament and taste. He also sensed—more than a little—that she had need of him, even if she were unaware. Of course, she was smart and capable, he didn't doubt that. But she looked as if she needed a friend, and he wanted to be that friend.

And... possibly more. It was time to be starkly honest with himself. If he continued as Royal Messenger to Runa Realm, he ran the risk of falling in love with her. The seed was already there in his heart, pushing out roots. Should he fight it? Remind himself of the difference in their positions and squelch any foolish hope that came along? They had both begun life as orphans, but the fact remained that Maelyn was now a crown princess, and Willow was merely a messenger. Would that matter to her?

He didn't think so.

She liked him. He could see that. Would it hurt to see if she could like him more? So long as he stayed respectful, he could try. She wanted a new book and he would get that for her. Whatever it took.

The princesses were working on a play, he knew, because he'd read Maelyn's letter to King Jarrod. Perhaps he could offer to help with the play? That would keep him in Runa Realm longer. Give him more opportunities to talk to Maelyn. He could mention that next time he went there.

But he wanted to go now.

Sighing, he stood up and walked to the water's edge where the wet sand prickled his feet, and cold waves spilled across his ankles. It was risky. She might reject him and break his heart. Then he'd have to resign as royal messenger because it would become too painful to see her. Or worse, be forced to continue and live with the excruciating awkwardness.

Maybe it wasn't worth the risk. Maybe he should fight it.

"Mister Willow, sir?"

He turned and saw a young boy, maybe twelve years of age, running toward him over the sand. Willow didn't recognize him.

The boy came up, panting. "I was told to find you. I have to give you this." He held out a roll of parchment, sealed with wax. "From Rollie."

Rollie was Prince Roald. A secret name they had come up with when Willow met him in the church confessional. It had been quite fun, actually, the intrigue of it all. He had not expected a reply so soon.

Willow's heart leapt as he took the scroll. "Is it for—that is, did he say who it's for?"

"The Lady of the Vine. He said you'd know what that means?"

Willow grinned. "I do! And I'm so sorry, boy, I don't have a coin for you. I can bring you one later, if you tell me where you live."

"Green Knight's Inn—well, I work there."

On impulse, Willow gave the boy a quick hug. He had his excuse to go to Runa. "Thank you with all my heart. I shall not forget to deliver your coin."

The boy ran off and Willow headed home, walking at a cheerful clip. He would leave tonight. If his mother protested, he would leave in the morning. He didn't care if the saddle bothered him. He was returning to Runa Realm and would find a reason to stay. He would see beautiful Maelyn again.

And no. He was not going to fight it.