Paper! Paperboy!

St. Pete was as lively as ever, with shopkeepers yelling out their wares, children darting through the streets, and the smell of freshly baked bread wafting from Roland's bakery. In the middle of it all stood Willem Gilbur, a thirteen-year-old paperboy with messy brown hair and eyes that always seemed to be calculating his next move. He held a stack of newspapers under one arm and waved another in the air.

"Extra! Extra! Read all about it! The Grand Collar Knight hosts the king's council! Big news, big arguments, and probably some spilled wine!"

"Willem!" a woman called from her stall, laughing. "Watch your mouth, lad. You'll end up in the stocks one day with that tongue of yours!"

Willem grinned and tipped his cap. "Aye, but they'd have to catch me first!" He darted into the square, narrowly dodging a cart piled high with hay.

The square was bustling, but it came to a sudden hush as a grand carriage rolled into view. The townsfolk stopped and stared, their chatter fading into whispers. The Bellmore family crest glinted on the side—a golden stag on a green field. Even Willem paused, though more out of curiosity than awe.

From the carriage stepped a woman draped in fine silks: Lady Catherine Bellmore. Behind her emerged a girl, no older than fourteen, with golden blonde hair that shimmered in the sunlight and eyes as blue as the summer sky.

"That's her," a man nearby whispered. "Elizabeth Bellmore. They say she's the most beautiful girl in the kingdom."

Willem raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. Sure, she was pretty, but beauty didn't make much difference when you were trying to scrape together enough for dinner. He was about to go back to selling papers when he noticed something strange. The girl wasn't walking like a noble—graceful, sure, but with a stubborn tilt to her chin, like she didn't care who was watching.

As Lady Catherine entered Roland's bakery, Elizabeth lingered, glancing around the square. Her gaze landed on Willem, and for a moment, they just stared at each other.

Willem, always quick with words, felt his mouth go dry.

"You there," she called, stepping closer. "Paperboy."

"That's me," Willem replied, recovering. "What can I do for you, Miss Bellmore? Want the latest news? Or maybe a joke? I've got a pretty good one about a knight and a chicken."

Elizabeth blinked, then smiled—a little too brightly. "You're… different."

"Different how?" Willem asked, tilting his head.

"You're not bowing," she said, folding her arms.

"Ah." Willem gave an exaggerated bow, nearly toppling over in the process. "There, happy?"

She laughed—a real, unrestrained laugh that made a few heads turn. "You're clumsy."

"And you're observant. That makes us even," Willem shot back, grinning.

Elizabeth stepped closer, peering at the newspapers under his arm. "What's this about the Grand Collar Knight?"

"Big meeting in the capital," Willem said. "Something about trade routes, taxes, and probably who gets the nicest chair. You nobles love your chairs, don't you?"

Elizabeth chuckled, but before she could respond, Lady Catherine's sharp voice rang out from the bakery. "Elizabeth! Stop bothering the commoners and come here at once."

Elizabeth sighed, rolling her eyes. "She always does this," she muttered.

"Sounds tough," Willem said, his tone light but his eyes sincere. "Good luck with your bread-related troubles."

She gave him a look—half amused, half curious. "I'll buy one of your papers on the way back."

"First one's free for noble customers," Willem said, tipping his cap.

Elizabeth started to walk away, then turned back with a smirk. "Don't get too comfortable, paperboy. I'll be back to see if you've got better jokes."

As she disappeared into the bakery, Willem let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Weird girl," he muttered, shaking his head. But a small, lopsided grin crept onto his face.