James came for dinner again the next night, but she couldn't bring herself to focus on anything but Nicholas. He stood in the corner as he always did, his eyes dark and quiet, his posture straight and perfect, like every other knight in the hall. He hadn't looked at her since yesterday and he only stayed close enough to make sure he could hear her.
When she managed to excuse herself, she fled to the library, faster than James could follow because he didn't know the castle, didn't know the rooms, didn't know her. Nicholas she would never be able to be rid of, but James she could ignore until she was ready.
She ran her fingers along the delicate spines, leaving a trail of color behind as she cleared the dust. When she saw the book she was looking for, she pulled it off the shelf, sat where she was, and flipped it open.
It was about a girl, a peasant, who had stolen some food and been caught. Too many people were looking for her, and she had to leave, to escape. So she disguised herself, paid someone to take her far, far away, and started a whole new life. Of course, her past caught up with her eventually, and some of the people she met were killed or hated her for lying, but Mary was sure it didn't have to turn out that way. If she ran away, she'd have enough resources to pay anyone to keep quiet for her. She could buy whatever she needed to get out of here, to leave behind her father and James and . . . and even Nicholas. She'd be doing him a favor, really. He wouldn't have to be so uncomfortable, wouldn't have to suffer so every day with her around. She'd be doing everyone a favor, in a way. Maybe they wouldn't realize it right away, but they'd all be better off without her.
She hugged the book to her chest and closed her eyes, imagining the journey, the friends she'd make. The girl in the book had fallen in love, but Mary doubted she'd do that. She wasn't very good at that, not at all, and besides, the boy had been the most offended when he'd found out about her lie.
But she could make friends. And she could wear a cloak on her way out so no one would recognize her, and none of the town people had any idea what she looked like anyway. She'd be all right. She'd manage. She'd have to find someone to teach her how to work, how to make a living, but once she'd learned everything, she'd be just lovely. Everything would be perfect. She could escape everything.
She slid the book back in the shelf, dusted off the fingers of her gloves and made her way out to the hallway, glancing cautiously up at Nicholas as she passed him, but he ignored her as per usual, and she was certain he had no idea what she had considered.
James was wandering the hallways peering in rooms at random, and she touched his elbow gently as she caught up with him. He jumped and flipped around, a relieved smile lifting his lips.
"Sorry," she said. "For disappearing like that. It wasn't very kind. Or-"
"It's quite all right," James said, his grin stretching across his face. He had a nice smile. Open and warm and loud. And often. He smiled so often. "You seem upset. Is something troubling you? Anything I can help you with? Perhaps you'd like to talk about it?"
"Oh no," she replied, her voice breathy and light. "Nothing of any importance." And then she almost winced because if Nicholas had heard that and thought she was talking about him, about what had happened - she had to leave. She just had to. She was absolutely no good to anyone. "It's all fine now."
"I'm glad to hear it." He stared at her for a moment, and then cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly. "You see, Princess . . . well, you missed the last bit of conversation."
Something deep in her gut twisted and her hands clenched into fists around the material of her dress. "Yes?"
"And, well, our fathers have been, um, conversing quite a bit. About this. Us. The wedding is to take place in two days."
