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fresh air. May I be excused?”
    In a single stroke, Lady Rapunzel had not only accepted her dispossession with aplomb, but also relieved him of the responsibility of evicting her. The King nodded his approval. She rose, and, despite the tight confines of the carriage, managed a respectful curtsy. Will stood with her, but too quickly, and slammed his head into the roof of the coach. This time he managed not to curse. Rapunzel covered his fumble by putting out her hand to him. “Lord Protector, would you help me down?”
    The squire, who must have been standing just outside, opened the door of the carriage and dazzling sunlight flooded the little compartment. While they had debated and discussed, the skies had cleared, and outside the afternoon sky was a crisp blue traced through with linen-­sharp streaks of white. That the rains were gone assuaged the King’s guilt a little. When the door shut behind Will and Rapunzel, the King fell back into the lonely twilight of his grief and wept for his lost son.
    WILL BLINKED AT the brilliant sky and stepped onto the wet road. As he helped Lady Rapunzel descend, Will suddenly became very aware of her hand in his. A hint of flowers floated in the air around her, not roses like Princess Gwendolyn but something else . . . jasmine. The perfume reminded him of home, where a vine of jasmine had climbed the wall outside his bedroom window. He found himself holding her hand for a moment even after she had stepped onto the road. She favored him with a smile of surprise and a blush of color, so swift, that he wondered after she turned away if he had imagined it.
    She walked toward the head of the coach, and he had a chance to admire the waist of her traveling dress and the long flow of swishing skirt that followed. Perhaps she felt his eyes on her, because she glanced back, and when she saw him looking, she adjusted the hood of her traveling cloak, pulling it further down over her face. Will pretended to be in deep contemplation of his mud-­crusted boot.
    Alone for the moment, he considered Rapunzel. What a change from the ball. She was still overly opinionated and quick to anger, but there was something about her that made his throat catch every time he tried to talk to her. Sadly, he reminded himself, she was unlikely to be favorably disposed toward him, given their argument. He replayed the conversation in the coach and winced.
    By the time he had reviewed and regretted all the stupid things he’d said, the carriage was moving away, and the Royal Herald was scrambling to mount up and follow. “I must hurry,” the man exclaimed dramatically. “The King cannot possibly travel without being properly announced.”
    Meanwhile, Tomas had taken a small cloth pavilion out of one of Rapunzel’s many trunks, and was assembling it on the glittering green grass of a nearby field. Will wandered over to the squire and watched as he drove the last peg into the ground. “What is that for?”
    â€œHaven’t you ever traveled with a Lady, Will? She’s going to need to change into her riding clothes, and she’s not about to do that out in the open so you can ogle her in her all-­natural. Not that you’d mind, I’d reckon, given how you’ve been staring after her.”
    Will’s cheeks flamed. Tomas gave a low, knowing chuckle, and then stalked off toward Rapunzel. “Now I know why Charming always called him a gnarled hobgoblin,” Will muttered to himself.
    Will was still mumbling to himself when Lady Rapunzel arrived. He tried to transform—­midword—­his unintelligible mutterings into a song so she would not think him mad. The curled smile that followed told him that it hadn’t worked. Still smiling, she stepped into the small enclosure to begin changing. Will turned to leave.
    â€œLord William, would you stay?”
    He turned back and saw the cloth wall of the tent flutter. The opening gaped for