“If your sisters come to your wedding, my lady, it will only be to murder me."Azalea slowly stood."Well at least they will be there.”

“Ah,Azalea," said the King. "He's not going to be the one proposing."The springs in Azalea's feet went poioioing."Sorry?" she said."You outrank him, you know." The King shifted, uncomfortable. "It would be highly inappropriate for him to propose to you. The Delchastrian queen had to propose-""I will do no such thing!" said Azalea."Azalea," said the King in a firmer tone. "Come now, follow the rules. Besides, it is your chance to have the final say,is it not?""I always have the final say!" said Azalea. "How horrifically unromantic!""Well,do you want me to send him away?""No!Don't do that!”

“Honestly, we don't kick or bite or throw potatoes at all our guests."A crooked smile touched Lord Bradford's lips."Your family has spirit," he said, taking his hat from Azalea. "I enjoyed the evening.""Well, yes, you've just come from a war," said Azalea.”

“He is writing a book," said the King, following them out into the sunny, crisp gardens. "About the gardens here. We have two of his books already. Library, north side, O. What say you, Miss Azalea? Does he pass that list of your sisters'?"Azalea cocked her head. Was the king actually teasing her?"He'll have to shave," she said, deciding to take his lead."And what," said the King, stroking his own close-trimmed beard, "is wrong with whiskers?"Azalea laughed, surprised at the King's uncharacteristic funning.”

“Bramble: Your afraid of the King. Admit it.Mr. Bradford: My lady, who isn't?”

“I'm so sorry we've kept this for such a long time," she said, pulling the watch from her skirt pocket. She unfolded Mother's handkerchief from around it, and offered it to Lord Bradford cradled in her hands. "We shouldn't have taken it in the first place."Lord Bradford's eyebrows rose at the offering, and he opened his mouth, then closed it. He lowered his eyes to the books in his hands, then back to Azalea, and he managed a smile."When we first met," he said, "ages ago, you gave me a candy stick. Just like you did now, with your hands like that. Do you remember?"Azalea raised an eyebrow."It happened when my father had just died," he said, quietly. "You came to the graveyard, licking a candy stick. You saw me. You put the stick in my hands, folded my fingers over it, and kissed my fingertips.""That must have been sticky," said Azalea.”

“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.”