“I say,” he said, smiling his very white smile and pullingher a touch closer. “You don’t look half bad in the sunlight. Itbrings out a perky red in your hair.”“Oh, honestly,” said Azalea, trying to tug her hand awaygently. “Mr. Hyette, please.”“You don’t find me handsome?”“No.”Mr. Hyette’s smile faded.“Now see here,” he said. “You certainly have no right tobe picky. Everyone knows the point of this silly riddle is tofind the future King.”

“When I saw you at the graveyard, looking so white, I knew something was wrong. I knew it."Azalea stared at him, the fire flickering highlights in his eyes."So...I thought I should do something," he finished lamely."You saw everything?"Mr. Bradford gave a half of a crooked smile. "I did knock.""You didn't see Mr...Mr.-""Mr. Keeper?" Mr. Bradford spat the name. "Oh yes, I saw Mr. Keeper. Rather hard not to. I saw him try to kiss you. Or what he said was a kiss. I want to snap his head off!"Azalea had her hand over her mouth, shocked that someone as solemn and dignified as Mr. Bradford could have such venom. He took her hands, gently, and pushed up her sleeved, revealing her swollen wrists. His fringers traced the bruises."You stopped him," said Azalea. She bowed her head, shy. "You kept him from-from-""Ah, yes, my lady!" Mr. Bradford smiled a crooked smile in full. "His ponytail was simply begging to be yanked.”

“I still have your handkerchief, from the Yuletide.""Raspberries, do you really?"He produced a crumpled, clean handkerchief, and gave it to Azalea. She tried to hand him the watch, but he wouldn't take it."It's still for ransom, is it not?" he said. "I'll collect it when I set the tower again."Azalea smiled, warmth rising to her cheeks. "Well, it has been awfully useful. Thank you, Lord Bradford."He mounted with ease, even with the books, and smiled a crooked smile."Mr. Bradford," he said sheepishly."Mr. Bradford," said Azalea. And now, her cheeks burned. It wasn't unpleasant."Thank you," he said, tipping his hat. "For the pleasant evening.”

“Mr. Bradford," she said. "I'm not going to propose to you."The twinkle in Mr. Bradford's eyes faded. So did his smile. He managed to keep it on his face. It looked painful."Oh," he said."Mr. Bradford?""Yes?""Would you mind it so very much if...you know...you proposed to me?"The light in Mr. Bradford's eyes jumped to life. He beamed so largely it almost wasn't crooked."If you want.”

“The King emerged from the library, paperwork in hand, eyebrows furrowed."Well, what is it, what is it?" he said crossly. "Can you not let me work for five minutes at a time?"The girls burst into angry cries. Kale let out another piercing shriek."Him-him-him-" said Delphinium, pointing a shaking finger at Mr. Hyette, who laughed still. "He-he-him!""He-he-he was spying on us!""And we weren't even wearing our boots!""Or even our stockings!"Thunpfwhap. The King threw Mr. Hyette up against the paneling. My Hyette's head slammed against the wainscot.Kale stopped midscream, hiccupped, and giggled."Mr. Hyeete!" said the King.Mr. Hyette struggled against the King's steel grip."Ow," he said. "I say, ow!"The King yanked Mr. Hyette from the wall and grabbed him by the scruff of his fluffy cravat. He handled Mr. Hyette out the entrance hall doors, slamming them behind him. Outside, gravel scuffled."I say," said Bramble, in an impeccable impersonation of Mr. Hyette. "I say, I say! I say-this Royal Business could actually be quite a lot of fun!”

“Hazel Grace,” he said, my name new and better in his voice. “It has been a real pleasure to make your acquaintance.”“Ditto, Mr. Waters,” I said. I felt shy looking at him. I could not match the intensity of his waterblue eyes.“May I see you again?” he asked. There was an endearing nervousness in his voice.I smiled. “Sure.”“Tomorrow?” he asked.“Patience, grasshopper,” I counseled. “You don’t want to seem overeager.”“Right, that’s why I said tomorrow,” he said. “I want to see you again tonight. But I’m willing to wait all night and much of tomorrow.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m serious,” he said.“You don’t even know me,” I said. I grabbed the book from the center console. “How about I call you when I finish this?”“But you don’t even have my phone number,” he said.“I strongly suspect you wrote it in the book.”He broke out into that goofy smile. “And you say we don’t know each other.”