“That is the truth!”

  With a dramatic sigh, he said, “I can’t believe you won’t trust me enough to tell me! I’m your brother!”

  A idea struck Blythe like a lightning bolt to the head. This was her brother, a family member. He wouldn’t want to do anything that would hurt her—probably. She could ask him all kinds of questions and get away with looking like a weirdo.

  “Hey, Reuben,” she said, stepping closer to him. “I have something to ask you.”

  “Huh? What?”

  She led him away, out of Suzy’s earshot, into the middle of the training ground.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked, looking over his shoulder. “Why did we have to walk so far …”

  “Do you still remember the Hunting Race at Novalbus?”

  His brow furrowed. “Sure. Why?”

  “What will happen if I don’t embroider a handkerchief for Magnus?”

  He eyed her like she was spouting nonsense. “What? What are you talking about? Aren’t you almost halfway done with it? You were bragging about it all summer.”

  She really wished the original Blythe could’ve kept that to herself. “Okay, but what if I didn’t embroider one for him? Will there be any consequences?”

  He moved closer, staring at the top of her head and moving behind her to examine it at different angles. “Blythe, are you okay? You even showed it to me. I mean, I hate to admit you’re good at anything, but embroidery’s obviously your forte—”

  “Reuben, that’s not what I asked,” she said, swiftly losing patience at this guy who clearly hadn’t heard her question.

  “I don’t understand. Are you trying to say that you don’t want to give Prince Magnus your handkerchief at the Hunting Race?”

  She waved at nothing in particular. “See? You obviously understood.”

  The bemusement on his face faded into concern. “Did you hit your head at school?”

  “No! Excuse me?”

  “Look, this knight-in-training in my year fell down the stairs and hit his head. He was delirious for a while and started saying things that didn’t make sense, kind of like you. Do you need me to call the physician for you?”

  Maybe Reuben wouldn’t have any incentive to get her in trouble, but asking him questions was still counter-productive. He couldn’t give her a straight answer.

  “I didn’t hit my head, and I’m not delirious! Reuben, I’m just asking if there’ll be any problems if I decide not to give Magnus my handkerchief. Is it that hard to answer?”

  He peered into her face, staring into her eyes as if searching for something inside them.

  “Why? Did something happen between you and Prince Magnus?”

  “No! I’m just curious. This has nothing to do with Magnus.”

  His frown deepened. “What do you mean, it has nothing to do with Prince Magnus? You’re literally saying you don’t want to give him your handkerchief. If he’s wronged you in any way, you need to tell us, Blythe. Even if he’s the crown prince, our parents won’t just let it slide. Is this why you’ve been behaving so strangely recently?”

  Warmth wrapped around her insides like a comforting weighted blanket. In spite of the cool morning breeze, Blythe felt warm from head to toe. At least her family members cared about her.

  “Thanks, Reuben. I appreciate it.”

  Green light flashed across her vision.

  Blinking, he drew back.

  “What … Do you have a fever?”

  He pressed the back of his hand to her forehead, and she swatted it away. “No! Would someone down with a fever go for a run?”

  “The world is ending,” he declared, trying again to check her forehead. “You just thanked someone who isn’t Mom or Dad!”

  “Whatever!” She fended off his attempts, retorting, “I have manners, you know!”

  “You’ve never used them on me!”

  When he finally calmed down, he said, “So are you going to tell me what happened between you and Prince Magnus now?”

  “Nothing happened! You know what, it was stupid of me to think you’d answer a simple question. Forget it!”

  She turned away, but he caught up to her in a couple of strides and stood in her way.

  “Hey, hey, hey! I never said I wouldn’t answer you. I didn’t think you were actually looking for an answer. Wasn’t that some sort of cry for help?”

  “Huh? Why would that be?”

  “I mean, you already know what will happen, don’t you? The handkerchief is a token. You’d basically be throwing a tantrum in front of everyone if you don’t give him one.”

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Cold dread slithered through her gut as she stared at him. “But, like, a good tantrum, right?”

  He barked out a laugh. “No, seriously, are you feeling unwell? Why would you even ask something like this? Wouldn’t you be doing that to embarrass him? Everyone’s going to talk about how he didn’t get a token from his fiancée.”

  Oh, so that was it. There was some kind of societal expectation for her to give him that handkerchief anyway. Maybe she’d embroider some other design. An image of his childhood pet bird was impossible. She didn’t even know what it looked like.

  “Oh, I have another question. You know how we have school dances, right?”

  “And … ?”

  “Is it mandatory to attend them? And do I have to go with a date?”

  He just stared at her with the most flummoxed expression ever. “You’re just messing with me now, aren’t you?”

  “I’m seriously asking!”

  “You’re asking something you already know the answer to?”

  “Can’t you humor me?”

  He eyed her doubtfully. “Are you planning to play truant? You know those school-wide events count toward your attendance. As the crown prince's fiancée, you really shouldn't push it."

  "Do I have to attend with a date?"

  “What kind of question is that? I went without a date all those years. But you'll be going with Prince Magnus anyway. Why are you even asking this?"

  For the sake of her attendance, it seemed going to these school dances was compulsory.

  “Hey,” she said, beckoning for him to come closer so she could speak even more quietly. He obliged. “If I want to break off my engagement with Magnus, how should I go about it?”

  If she was no longer engaged to Magnus, people would stop associating him with her, right?

  “Blythe!” He grabbed her by the shoulders. “You would never say this in a million years—what’s gotten into you?”

  She got the impression that he was holding back from shaking her. He cast his gaze around wildly, turning his head in every direction as if to make sure nobody was listening in on them.

  “You can’t just say that out loud!” he whispered. “I know our servants are loyal to us, but if it leaks out somehow, there could be trouble!”

  Bringing her hands up, she attempted to shove his arms aside, but they didn’t budge. Obviously, she’d underestimated his strength—or maybe overestimated her own.

  “I know! Why do you think I made you walk out here so no one can eavesdrop on us?”

  As he dropped his hands to his side, Reuben narrowed his eyes at her. “Tell me what happened, Blythe. If the choice is between you and Prince Magnus, we’ll always be on your side.”

  She almost regretted asking him, but it was the easiest way to learn the answers without blindly digging into a bunch of books hoping for a potential morsel of relevant information.

  “Nothing happened, really. I’m just curious.”

  He leveled a challenging gaze at her. “Really? You’re asking something like that because you’re curious? Need I remind you that I graduated from Novalbus early? Don’t take me for an idiot.”

  She hesitated. Maybe he’d actually give her usable advice if she spun up some tale about falling out of love with Magnus. If she continued insisting nothing had happened, it seemed likely he would continue hounding her for an answer. He was right; the original Blythe would never say this, so it made sense he was searching for the catalyst.

  “Will you promise,” she said, bracing herself and looking up into his eyes, “to keep it a secret if I tell you?”

  His eyebrows drew together. “It depends on what you say. If our parents need to know—”

  “It’s not anything that he did,” she said, stealing from the ‘it’s not you’ cliche. “It’s me. It’s one thing if Mom and Dad know, but you can’t tell anyone else, okay?”

  Dragging a hand down his face, he groaned. “I cannot believe you think I’m so stupid to the extent you need to specify that. Blythe. Just tell me already.”

  “I’ve fallen out of love with Magnus,” she blurted out in a whisper. “I was young and naive when I begged Dad to secure the engagement with him, and now I wish I hadn’t done that. So I don’t want to marry him anymore. Is there any way out of this?”

  He stared at her, horror overtaking his face. “How? When did this happen? You’ve been talking about becoming his bride ever since you saw him!”

  “It’s a recent thing.” Seeing the disbelief in his eyes, Blythe borrowed inspiration from the scenes she often read in romance novels. “But more importantly, I realized how shallow my infatuation with him was. I just liked his face. That’s not love. And he’s a great person and everything, but I just can’t see myself marrying him. Reuben, you’ve got to help me—how do I get out of this engagement?”

  In Waiting for Fireflies, it had been made abundantly clear that in this pseudo-fantasy setting, women could pursue their own professional careers and choose to remain single if they wanted. There was also a possible ending for Daisy where she didn’t get with any of the love interests and just lived her best life. Of course, many ladies still chose to get married, especially if it meant elevating their social status or lifestyle and being taken care of, but it was entirely up to the individual woman or her parents rather than societal pressure.

  Being single wasn’t the issue here—it was wanting to break off the engagement with the crown prince on her end.

  By this point, Reuben’s jaw had dropped to the ground.

  “You’re saying this now? Now, after you’re already engaged and it’s going to cause trouble if we try to break it off on our end?”

  She made a miserable face. “So it is difficult to break it off?”

  He hesitated. “You made Dad explain to the king just how much you declared your love for Prince Magnus and longed to marry him. It’s going to reflect terribly on Dad if you turn around and say you don’t actually want to marry him now. You can ask Dad, but I don’t think there’s a good way to broach the subject with King Abel.”

  It made sense, she supposed. It would be seen as insulting that Blythe thought she could get engaged to the prince at a whim and then break it off because she felt like it. Still, this meant she was trapped in this engagement for now.

  “If he’s as great as you say, and he hasn’t done anything to wrong you, why not just stay engaged? It’s the dream of most noble girls to be married to the crown prince, isn’t it? It’s not that bad.”

  Expelling a heavy sigh, she looked at the trees lining the edge of the grassy space. The lush greenery had a calming effect on her stomach, which was stubbornly doing flips.

  “Yeah, but I just don’t want to marry him. I don’t want to make things hard for Dad, though.”

  “Wow, you’ve really matured,” Reuben said, his voice distinctly impressed. “Just last summer, you’d have thrown a fit or sulked if anything didn’t go your way.”

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Without looking at him, she waved at him. “I’m going to work out some more. Thanks for listening to me.”

  Another flash of green light.

  “Hey,” he said from behind her as she turned around to walk away. “You could always tell Dad. There’s no guarantee he can get you out of this engagement, but you know he’ll listen. And if you really don’t want to go to the school dances with Prince Magnus, you could always feign a stomachache. They can’t mark you as wilfully truant if your absence is due to illness.”

  With a wry chuckle, she looked over her shoulder at him. “Thanks for the tips.”

  She might just make use of them. It sounded better than getting the side-eye from Magnus the entire duration of the school dance.

  She got another positive notification.

  Reuben made a face. “It’s so strange hearing you say ‘thanks’ so many times in a morning. Wait, you’re going to exercise more? Didn’t you just run one whole lap around the field? I’ve never seen you do that much in my life.”

  “I’ll probably do some push-ups. I need to train my strength.”

  “Push-ups?! There’s seriously something wrong with you today! Where are you going? Are you going to the training hall? I have to see this for myself!”