While accompanying Lara back to safer streets, I am able to convince her to move into my flat. I figure she may as well, since I won't be using it in a few weeks and there is no sense in us paying two rents.

She hugs me once more and turns to go, leaving me to shimmy back up to the rooftops. I increase my speed as I leap from building to building; the hour has grown late and I have already pegged Will as the impatient type.

I land on the roof of his shoddy flat and lower myself into the uppermost window; soundlessly I swing inside and situate myself into a seated position on the ledge. Will is in the chair with his back turned to me. His head is lowered, intently studying some parchment on his lap.

"Pretty lax security you have around here," I say, then laugh when he jumps in shock.

"Gods." Will clutches his chest. "Ever hear of using the door?"

"Not really my style." I cross my legs and tilt my head.

"You may want to consider it as an option in the future. I doubt the Princess will take kindly to one of her ladies swinging from the rafters. "

I roll my eyes at his seriousness. He places whatever he was reading down on the table and moves toward me. I notice that he still hasn't trimmed his beard.

"You're late," he says, curtly.

Delightful. I've been here less than a minute and have already heard nothing but lectures.

"Sorry, I ran into a friend." Uncomfortable at his proximity, I slide down off the ledge and squeeze around him, helping myself to an apple from a bowl on the table.

"I need you to take this seriously, Kay. I don't think you fully grasp just how different the Court is from what you're used to."

"Would you relax?" I say through my mouthful of apple. Then, swallowing, "I thought you said all I needed was an uptight attitude and good hair."

"As well as manners, tact and decorum."

"I suppose you forgot to mention those. Look, I've been helping myself to goods from your district for a long time—I get the gist of it. Just teach me some fancy phrases and I'll take it from there." I take another bite of the apple.

Will runs a hand over the stubble on his head, his brow furrowed. "You're spewing bits of that everywhere. Didn't your mother teach you to chew with your mouth closed?"

"My mother is dead," I say flatly, making a point of spitting some fruit as I speak.

That shuts him up. Briefly. "I'm sorry. I lost my mother as well."

"Right. Lovely. Tell me, is talking about dead mothers considered good courtly conversation?" I ask, keeping my eyes averted.

I regard the apple core in my hand before polishing it off in two bites. When I look back up, I notice Will has a disgusted look on his face.

"What?" I wipe my hands on my tunic.

"We have a lot of work to do."

Several hours later, my head is aching. Will has been forcing me to memorize the names of nearly every noble, an endless list of useless people.

"And again, Kay. Who is this?" He holds up a printed card showing a fat old man with bushy sideburns.

I squint in an attempt to clear my blurred vision. "Lord Engers," I say.

"First name?"

"Jorge."

"And his wife?"

"Carilyn. And his children are Anton and Sebastian." I squeeze my eyes shut and massage my throbbing temple.

"And who is this?" He thrusts another card at me.

"Lady Emmy Bock. Husband is the deceased Lord Richerd Bock. No children. One lover, Gregory, no title."

"And this—" He reaches for another card but I lean forward and snatch the entire deck from his hands.

"Stephen Griss, father is Thom Griss, captain of the King's guard." I crumple up the card and drop it to the ground. "Here's Lydia Simons, bit of a hussy. Lady Penelope Haydon, cousin to the Princess. Richie Thaylor. Oren Humber, his brother Louis, and here we have Sam, Kerry, Tomas, Byron, Lyle..." I flick the cards at Will one by one as he ducks and raises his hands to protect himself. "Janit, Peter, Ira, Charles, Lawrence, Rachel, Edith, Sara." When I run out of cards, I lean back against the couch, satisfied at the sight of Will looking dismayed amid the scattered study materials.

He sighs and stoops to collect the cards. "That was not very ladylike."

"Forgive me. I never had the benefit of a formal education." Learning history and literature in a cramped flat from an over-read father doesn't count.

"I get that you're frustrated, Kay, but you need to trust me when I say this is important. The people at the Palace are gossipy social climbers and you'll be expected to keep up with who's who." Will scoops up the last of the cards and carefully shuffles them back into place.

I don't say anything, returning to rubbing my temple.

"I think we're ready for a break, don't you?" He places the deck on the table and stands up. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes, always," I say, brightening.

"I figured."

He disappears into the kitchen and returns a few moments later, a plate of food in each hand. I reach up to take the dish but he shakes his head and motions for me to follow him.

"Not here—we'll go to the dining hall." He places the plates on the window ledge and pulls up a couple of chairs, angling them so they face outside. "I think this feast calls for a formal setting, don't you?"

"I couldn't agree more," I say, sinking into the proffered seat.

Will lowers himself to sit next to me, his shoulder brushing mine in the cramped space. He picks up his silverware and cuts into his meal. "Unfortunately, this is the closest thing I have to a dining table in here. It's a bit tight, but you can't beat the view."

As he chews, he stares out the window at the wide street, coloured bright orange in the late afternoon sun. I tear my eyes away from him and concentrate on my own supper.

"No, no. Not like that." He sighs and reaches for my knife, covering my small hand with his large one and readjusting my fingers so that they rest against the side of the blade. "Like this. You're not stabbing it, you're eating it."

When he releases me, I am left holding the knife awkwardly, rotating myself over the plate as I attempt to slice the meat the way he does. I cut a chunk and raise it to my mouth.

"Stop. Look at what you have there."

I pause and regard the food on my fork. "It looks pretty tasty to me."

"That is much too big a piece. Remember, a lady takes small bites and chews delicately." He demonstrates, smoothly cutting off a minuscule portion of his own food.

I sigh, return the morsel to my plate and slice it in half, biting my tongue while I concentrate on the strange way I have to hold the knife. I brandish the newly cut portion at Will before placing it in my mouth and chewing as slowly as I can manage. Gods help me, it tastes delicious. If I can expect meals like this at the Palace, then perhaps I shouldn't mind the danger quite so much.

Will nods and returns to his supper. We eat in silence as I focus on holding my silverware without struggling, cutting and spearing annoyingly tiny portions of food. It has never taken me so long to finish a meal and I begin to wonder if the courtiers realize how inefficient this method of eating is.

Will chuckles softly and I squint one eye at him suspiciously.

"What?" I ask, careful to swallow first.

"It's nothing. Just the way you look when you're concentrating."

"Isn't it considered a tad gauche for a gentleman to stare at a lady while she eats?" I make a show of dabbing my mouth with a cloth.

"My sincerest apologies—I couldn't help myself. It's been a while since I've had such entertaining company for dinner."

"I am so pleased that you find my struggles amusing," I say lightly, clearing the last of the crumbs from my plate.

He stands to collect our dishes. "Place your fork and knife in the centre of the plate so that the help knows you've finished."

I do as he says. "'The help,' is it? Don't you mean 'the commoners'?"

"That reminds me. You're going to have to keep any commoners you encounter at arm's length. Courtiers, especially royal ones, don't fraternize with anyone they deem socially unacceptable. It's a terrible prejudice, I know, but you'll have to partake if you're going to fit in."

He disappears into the kitchen and I am left staring out the window. I watch the figures passing below, studying the way the street lamps throw long shadows across the front of the buildings.

"You did well today."

I turn at the sound of Will's voice. He is leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed in front of his broad chest.

"I mean it. I didn't expect you to be such a quick study."

"Why is that?" I don't bother trying to hide the offence in my voice. "Because I haven't been to one of your fancy schools?"

He blinks at me, appearing hurt. "That's not what I meant."

"It's fine. Don't worry about it." I stand and place our chairs back against the wall. When I turn, Will is still reclined in the doorway, regarding me.

"Same time tomorrow?" I ask, sitting on the ledge and swinging one leg out the window.

"You know, we're on the same side, now. You don't have to keep thinking of me as some spoiled courtier."

I pause. My initial impulse is to come back at him with a biting remark, but for once, none come to mind.

"I'm sorry," I say, instead.

He raises his eyebrows, surprised. "You are?"

"You're right. We're on the same side and, apart from throwing me off a wall, you've been nothing but a completely decent person. So, I'm sorry. I'll try to keep the poor-little-rich-guy jabs to myself, from now on."

"Well... thanks." He appears baffled but the corner of his mouth tugs upward. "You continue to surprise me, Kay. And for what it's worth, you've been completely decent as well."

I roll my eyes but can't help smiling along with him. "Oh please, I'm blushing."

Will chuckles and I feel the tension from earlier finally lifting. His laugh is a rich, throaty sound, filling me with warmth despite the cool night breeze against my back.

He walks toward me and the flight instinct flutters in my chest. I force myself to stay in place as he leans past me, his tall frame bending through the window as he looks down at the street. He is close enough that I catch the scent of clean laundry and the slightest essence of sandalwood.

"What is it?" I ask.

"I'm trying to figure out how you climb down there."

"Oh." I follow his gaze. "It isn't that difficult. It just takes a little practice."

"Could you teach me?" His grey eyes appear dark in the waning light.

I feel a smile tug at my lips. "You're not afraid of heights, are you?"

"No, only falling from them." He wrinkles his nose at his own joke.

"Sure. I'll show you sometime." I swing my other leg out the window and turn so that my feet are perched on a protruding brick and my forearms are supported on the ledge next to Will's.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Kay."

Looking up, I find myself face to face with him.

"How about an early start?" he says.

"Goodnight, Will." I raise my eyebrows in mock horror before stepping backward and dropping out of sight.