“No, Jace, you’re the only person I haven’t lied to,” I reply. “I swear.”

“Maybe not directly, but you let me believe a lie. You let me tell my family lies.”

“Jace, believe me, if I could have told them the truth—”

“And now, what? You’ve dragged me out to the middle of nowhere and dropped this bomb on me while we’re stranded at sea? Why would you do that? What was the point of any of this?”

“There was no point!” I exclaim, frustrated. “I’ve been stuck in a palace my entire life. I saw the same people every day and did the same thing every day. The only people my own age back home are afraid to even look at me wrong. Anything I said to anyone could end up leaked to the press. My father was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, and I found out I only have a few years until I became the monarch, not a few decades. I begged my parents to let me start college someplace new, where I could experience some normal, and they agreed to let me come to Lincoln for one semester. These past few months have been my only chance at experiencing anything close to a normal life. I couldn’t tell anyone the truth. Especially you.”

Some of the anger has ebbed from Jace’s expression. “What do you mean, especially me?”

I smile at him ruefully. “I expected to like the campus. I expected to meet new friends. I expected to like choosing my own classes. I expected to feel free after years of having my every move scrutinized. I didn’t expect you. Going to class, eating in the dining hall, watching TV with Katie in my dorm room, that all made me feel normal. You make me feel happy. I knew telling you the truth would ruin it. Would ruin us.”

Jace opens his mouth to speak, but I continue talking.

“And you only took me home last week. Before that we were just flirting, at most. You seriously think I should have been spilling my deepest secrets to you?”

“You seriously think we were just flirting?” Jace replies. Some anger has seeped back into his tone.

I turn my gaze out to the open water. “I didn’t know what to think,” I whisper.

“So what does this mean?” Jace asks. “You said your parents agreed to one semester? So in two weeks, you leave to be royalty and we’ll never see each other again?”

I keep looking at the shimmering waves, unable to meet his eyes. “That’s exactly what it means.”

Jace is silent, and I’m afraid to look over at him. I don’t know which would be worse: pain or indifference.

“I’m sorry,” I break the silence first. “I know it’s not enough—not fair—but I’m truly sorry. I didn’t see this—you—coming. I thought it was just the challenge, at first. I liked arguing with you, and then I wanted you to just be a meaningless fling. By the time I realized you weren’t, I couldn’t change things. I didn’t want to change things.”