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“I–” My lips met. “If you wish to speak of injured vanities, you could at least look at me when you make your commentary.”

Cyrus did. I was no better with his intrusive, piercing gaze.

“I was not jealous,” I said.

“Have we not established you don’t have to lie to me?” he asked.

“All I meant was that the Prince said ‘duty never rests’ to me first,” I explained.

“Aye, but I’m not asking about what the Prince said; I’m asking whatdutymeans from you, Princess.”

“I suppose I don’t understand the inquiry then, sir. Would you like me to break down the etymology of each word within the sentence, or-?”

“Just duty’s fine,” he said. “I think I could manage to define the rest.”

“I’m not so sure,” I replied. “Don’t be shy. I am well-read and can assist you where needed, sir.”

“Oh, are you?” he asked. “Then tell me, what does Cyrus mean?”

I paused. “Cyrus?”

“See?” he said. “Does that not feel better from your lips? Better than Mr. Evergreen?”

I blushed.

“Say it again,” he said.

“I– I meant.” I scoffed lightly. “I only meant to repeat the word you wished for me to define, Mr. Evergreen.”

“Yes. Cyrus. Tell me the etymology of that name,” he said.

“It’s… It’s a southern name,” I said.

“Aye. And what does it mean?” he asked.

There was a fragile split in our floral backdrop; the afternoon’s light cut through the cracks and slithers of space between the final few trees. When they vanished altogether, our road became a far more open pasture of greens and beryls.

“I don’t know,” I confessed. “I am angry that I don’t know.”

“Shall I tell you?” he asked. “Or would you prefer to ponder a while longer so that you can feign victory when itdawnson you?”

“Dawns?” I asked.

“You’re close,” he said.

“I’m… Sun!” I declared. “Sunlight. Your name means sunlight!”

Cyrus gave me his best gentleman’s nod, appearing beside me. Ice’s coat shimmered in the day.

He said, “In old Oreian, duty is an obligation. A debt that must be paid.”

“A debt to God,” I added. “It’s not some recreational payment one can rearrange upon their own free will. There is a morality that binds its bearer to it.”

“And you bear a duty?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. “It is my duty to marry the Prince.”

“Why?” he asked.