Arthur was still stewing over it as he left his father’s council meeting the next day. Master Ambrosius said the lad had potential, but he was a slow study, and lazy besides. Emmett was fast proving to be far more trouble than he was worth, and Arthur found himself missing the young wizard who had sat by his side in the quiet of the early morning.

I want you to be my court wizard. Isn’t that enough?

He closed his eyes, regretting those words. Regretting so many things, none of which he knew how to fix.

And then he tucked the legislation he needed to review under his arm, and went back to his rooms, hoping for a moment of calm.

Instead of calm, he found Princess Guinevere.

She sat in his favorite chair, reading one of his books, her skirts tucked up around her. Her hair had come undone from its pins, and she looked more approachable, and less like a painting designed to draw his admiration.

“Princess?” Arthur said, surprised.

“Your guards let me in,” she said with a small smile.

“Yes, but what are you doing here?” Arthur asked curiously.

“Occupying myself, especially now that I no longer find Lady Elaine’s company pleasing.”

Arthur couldn’t fault her there. He wished the girl removed from the castle for what she’d done.

Guinevere held up the book. “May I borrow this? I started it while I was waiting, and I’m just up to the part with the shipwreck.”

“Be my guest,” Arthur said, amused.

“Also, I wanted to speak with you,” said Guin.

Arthur smothered a sigh. “We speak plenty at dinner,” he reminded her. “And on our walks.”

“You mean we speak of nothing, while dining with others, or being trailed by your guards.” She motioned toward the chair across from her as though she sat upon a throne.

Arthur inclined his head. “Your Highness,” he said, taking a seat. “What’s on your mind?”

“Our engagement.”

“What an exciting prospect it is,” he replied. “Don’t you agree?”

“Don’t patronize me,” Guinevere said, her dark eyes flashing. “It’s obvious you don’t want to marry me.”

Arthur opened his mouth to reply, but Guinevere silenced him with a glare before adding, “And I don’t want to marry you, either.”

“You don’t?” Arthur said in surprise.

“You’re more in love with any book in your library than you are with me,” said Guin.

“That’s not true,” Arthur protested. “I—”

“Have been miserable since our fathers hatched this ridiculous plan in the first place,” finished Guinevere. “And I don’t blame you. This whole thing is . . . how do I even put it?”

“A sarding nightmare?” Arthur suggested, and then muttered an apology for his language.

“Oh, it’s precisely a ‘sarding’ nightmare,” replied Guin. “So I have a better plan: we refuse to go through with it.”

“Can we do that?” Arthur wondered aloud.