“Like I told him of our dance?” he asked.
“I–” He hadn’t.
“What would I tell him, Your Highness? Of the existence of an adolescent romance with a boy you don’t remember?” he asked. “I’m sure he’ll be very jealous, yes. It might devastate him, actually.”
“Idoremember him!” I argued. “And he wasjusta friend.”
“Sure, Princess,” he said. “A friend with benefits?”
“Shhhhh!”I hissed. My eyes searched around us. “You could get him into a horrific amount of trouble associating him with me in such a way!” I said. “You must stop at once. It isn’t funny!”
He made a point to check where I had looked, then he craned in. “Do you defend all your friends this way?” he asked. “Or just the special ones?”
“He could get hurt!” I urged.
“Yes, he could, Your Highness. He absolutely could get hurt, but why would I want him to? And frankly, you’d have to know his name for me to use it, if I were so evil,” he said. “How can I even summon him if you don’t know his–”
“Idoremember it!”
“It’s alright that you’ve forgotten,” he said. “It was so many moons ago. I’m sure he’d forgive you. You’re the Princess. You know so many names. Especially pretty ones, yes? Oh, wait. Is that it? His name wasn’t pretty enough for you, so you discarded it?”
“Why should I tell you if it was or wasn’t?” I asked. My jaw was tight.
“Why wouldn’t you?” he returned. “Why hide it? Why protect it? You were friends. Just friends. Like we’re just friends now, yes? No, hold on, wait!” He held his hands up in feigned concern, then covered his heart. “Will you forgetmyname now?”
“Willem!”I yelled.
He straightened.
“Okay?” I asked. I mirrored his posture. “His name was Willem. Are you happy now?”
“...His name was Willem?” he asked.
“Yes. Willem Ólason. His father, the same. And his and his. It was a family name; itwaspretty, you’ll ask me next, but I must implore you to resist! Please. Stop taunting me! You’ve won. Do not speak it again…Okay? Please.”
Cyrus ran his hand through his bangs.
“Say something, will you?” I said. “I command it.”
He said,“Was that so hard to remember?”
We met eyes. I frowned.
“Was it?” he asked.
“I didn’trememberit, sir. You cannot remember something you never forgot! Is that what you want to hear? That I’ve never forgotten him? Then you’ll revel in the fact that I never will. You’ll be ecstatic to know he haunts my dreams. You may have pried his name from my cold, dead memory, but I only withheld it from you because I wanted it for myself! Do you get it? I desperately hate to share the things that I love! So, go on, mock me for it. Say whatever it is that you will! I don’t care. I will endure whatever you feel fit! But you cannot say his name ever. If you do, I’ll— I’ll?—”
“What else?” Cyrus asked.
“What–What do you mean what else?” I whined. “What else will I never forget? Or what–”
“What else do you remember about your Willem?” he asked.
“You accused me of not recalling his name,” I said. “I think I have very clearly proved you incorrect, once again, in your outstanding opinion of me, sir! I will not continue to embarrass myself by humoring anymore of your stupid interrogations.”
“What else do you remember about yourWillem?”he asked.
I had to bite my tongue to keep from savaging him with my father’s rage. It coursed heatedly through my veins, begging to get out to injure Mr. Evergreen’s heinous vanity.
