There wasn't as much music wafting into the little library as on ball nights, so I pushed open one of the windows to listen for the crickets singing in the garden. I was running low on matches in Andrew's matchbook, so I reminded myself to beg some off Xavier the next time I saw him. With the candelabra on the reading table lit, I adopted my favourite pose and tucked my feet underneath me. I'd settled for another book that night, since the book of legends still sent my cheeks to heating when I thought about the last time I'd held it. Andrew's invitation was still safely tucked into my clothes, but the list Xavier had given me from mother was buried at the bottom of my trunk. I'd assumed that if Emily went snooping, finding a list of recommended husbands would set her to laughing, but finding the prince's only invitation to the masquerade would send her straight to Ella to have me flayed alive. Nonetheless, I was still acutely aware of the envelope wedged beneath my dress and I wondered how many other sensitive documents I'd have to hide. Perhaps I'd have to ask Audra to sew some secret pockets for me. But thinking about the seamstress had only turned my thoughts towards my budgetary constraints and mission to find a husband, neither of which I wanted to ruminate over that night. With a huff and a shake of my head to clear it, I cracked open a book on the sights and relics of Egypt. I was thoroughly engrossed in reading of pharaohs and sarcophagi when the service door opened behind me. I twisted around in my chair, only for Andrew to rest a hand on my back in greeting, coming around the table to sit opposite me. "Now you must really have lost your mind. You can't keep disappearing at the same time as I do!" I said, closing the book with a snap. Andrew grinned, leaning back wearily in the chair. "Once again you underestimate me. I made quite sure all the debutantes who were paying attention watched me escort my unruly brother back into the old palace. For all they know I'm still scolding him, not sneaking through service corridors to the little library," Andrew said, leaning his head back on the chair to close his eyes. "Thomas was permitted to join games night?" I asked, my eyebrows lifting. Andrew smiled, his eyes still closed. "Not in the least, which was why I had to escort him away," he said. I furrowed my brow as I watched him. "That seems a little brazen, even for Thomas," I said. At that Andrew opened his eyes, a little gleam in them as he looked at me. I held his gaze with raised eyebrows, waiting for him to explain. "I may have asked him to help spare me if Ashley wouldn't let me alone," Andrew said, "He was keeping an eye out from one of the upper balconies," "Getting your brother in trouble to escape a beautiful girl! For shame your Highness!" I said. Andrew grinned at me. "Not shameful in the least," he said, "Thomas owes me a number of favours for getting him out of trouble and I needed a few minutes of chatting with you to clear my head. It's no easy feat, facing that barrage of flirts," "Barrage of flirts? You make it sound like you're suffering," I laughed, focusing on the book in my hands instead of on the heat rising in my face. You serve as a distraction from the choice he is facing, which is the only reason he's spending so much time with you. I hated James' words as they jumped into the forefront of my mind again, sending my stomach twisting into the wrong kind of knots. I hadn't wanted to believe him, but now Andrew had just confirmed it for me. Try as I might to feel flattered that he'd claimed spending time with me would clear his head, I couldn't shake the notion that James was right and that Andrew was really just using me to put off picking one of the debutantes. "Some of them are insufferable," Andrew said, clearly unaware of the inner turmoil boiling in my head, "Emmie, for instance. She never knows when to stop talking and hardly lets anyone get a word in edgewise," "Well Emmie isn't the only debutante," I said, feeling a little sick to my stomach, "You've spent plenty of time enduring their 'barrage of flirts' as you called it, surely you must have narrowed it down at least a little," Andrew must have caught something off in my tone because he was looking at me now as if trying to figure out what he'd said that had upset me. I forced a smile, tilting my head to the side to coax forth an answer to my question. "As it so happens I already have someone in mind," he said, still watching me to gauge my reaction. As he said the words, I kept the forced smile on my face despite the daggers twisting in my stomach. ...especially given that he has already confessed to having feelings for a few of the debutantes... All my instincts were telling me to change the subject, screaming at me to heed James' advice to leave Andrew alone and shoo him back to the games night. For the second time that evening, James had been proven right - Andrew did have feelings for one or several of the debutantes. I realized with a lurch that I very much didn't want to hear him announce exactly who, but I didn't react fast enough to keep the words from tumbling out of my mouth. "It's not Ashley?" I blurted out, snapping my mouth closed as I realized what I'd said. He smiled as he shook his head and I couldn't help but sag with relief. "Thank goodness," I said, blowing out my cheeks. But that feeling of dread still clung to me. If it wasn't Ashley... "Why does that make you so relieved?" he asked. I looked at him and he was still watching me with that peculiar half-smile on his face. I forced another smile onto my own face, attempting to lighten the mood. "Because I'd be completely unable to curtsey to her as queen," I shrugged, "I'd be forced to leave Highcastle and never return," Andrew burst into laughter, shaking his head at me. "And here I thought you had a concrete reason for being so opposed to her," he chuckled. I shot him an exasperated look, forcing down the turmoil of emotions. "I think it's a perfectly good reason. I don't want a horrible woman sitting on a throne next to you," I said, the last part tumbling from my mouth before I could stop it. He watched me again before speaking. "Then what kind of woman do you want sitting on a throne next to me?" he asked. I clenched my fists under the table, my mind desperately screaming for me to change the subject once again. "I don't think I have much say in the matter," I said quietly, James' words still echoing between my ears. That half-smile reappeared on Andrew's face, so I added quickly, "I think I'd want whomever would make the kind of queen you hope to rule with," "What if the queen I'd want isn't one that most people would approve of?" he asked, still watching me with a heightened level of intensity in his green eyes. My stomach swooped, but I couldn't shake James' voice from my head. I forced another joke. "I will leave this room if you're telling me that your choice is Emmie," I said, "Do you realize that all you'll ever talk about for the rest of your life will be gossip and nonsense?" "It's not Emmie," Andrew said, grinning, "But you're not leaving me very many choices with Ashley and Emmie off the list," "Well what kind of wife do you want? If you want someone timid and demure, there's always Ella and Harriet," I started. "I can't choose Ella," Andrew said a little too quickly. I lifted an eyebrow in question. "You're her cousin, surely you can confirm that she's been mooning about James just as much as he's been mooning about her," Andrew said. My mouth popped open before I snapped it shut. Andrew's troublemaking grin spread. James was mooning over Ella? Apparently they were more interested in each other than I'd thought. "She didn't tell you," he deduced, still grinning. "She made quite a fuss about getting James' invitation to the masquerade, but I had no idea it had progressed to 'mooning over' one another," I said in disbelief, "I find it quite difficult to imagine James mooning over anybody," "I found it a bit surprising as well, but he's always taken to quiet, well-behaved young ladies," Andrew said, looking down to where he was twirling his signet ring. I slumped back in my chair, still having difficulty grappling with the fact that the ever proper and rigidly correct Lord Amberly was mooning over my cousin. We sat together in silence, my thoughts churning in my head as Andrew kept fiddling with his ring. "Come to the masquerade with me," Andrew said finally, looking up at me as he broke the silence between us. I bit back the manic laugh that threatened to escape my lips "You said you'd give me time to decide!" I said, playing for time. "I did, but I'm simply re-stating that I'd very much like for you to accompany me," he replied. I looked at him, swallowing to brace myself for what I was about to say next. "I don't know that my distracting you would be a good idea," I said finally, biting my cheek to keep from saying anything more. But Andrew simply laughed away my words. "It would be a very welcome distraction," he grinned, "And don't you want to save me from hours upon end of mind-numbing chatter?" I very nearly blurted out "of course I do", but I bit back the words just in time. James was right, I needed to leave Andrew alone to make his decision. It was clear as day to me now that I was indeed keeping him from making a choice. "I should be getting back to the games night," I said, pushing my chair away from the table. Andrew rose and caught my arm, intercepting me on my way to the door. "You didn't answer my question," he said, those green eyes frightfully close to mine as he looked down at me. I gulped. "Perhaps you should open your mind a little," I said, forcing a teasing smile, "You're going to marry one of them after all," He let go of my arm, his eyebrows crashing down in shock. I instantly regretted my words, so I rambled on as I made for my escape, hurrying towards the door. "You can always hide out among the foreign dignitaries, you know. Or best of all, disguise yourself so completely that no one recognizes you," I said, turning back to him as I grabbed the door handle. He tilted his head as if an idea had just occurred to him. He looked me over, his brows furrowed in thought.