Paper! Paperboy!

"Stop fidgeting," Elizabeth said, glancing at Willem.

"I'm not fidgeting," Willem replied, bouncing his leg.

"You're fidgeting," Elizabeth insisted, gesturing at his knee. "You look like you're trying to kick the floor out of the carriage."

"It's these clothes," Willem grumbled, pulling at the collar of his tunic. "They're too... tight. And itchy. And entirely unnecessary."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Would you rather show up at the capital in your patched-up paperboy outfit? I'm sure the nobles would love that."

"Better than feeling like I've been stuffed into a pastry," Willem shot back. "Do nobles always dress like this? Or is this a special form of torture?"

"You'll get used to it," Elizabeth said breezily, looking out the window.

"Easy for you to say," Willem muttered. "You were born with a silver spoon. I was born with... well, no spoon."

Elizabeth turned back to him, her expression softening slightly. "I didn't choose to be born into all this, you know."

Willem blinked. "Yeah, but you didn't exactly suffer, did you? Your biggest problem is which fancy dress to wear to dinner."

Elizabeth stiffened. "You think it's that simple? That everything's perfect just because I have money?"

"Well, isn't it?" Willem said, crossing his arms.

"No," Elizabeth snapped, her eyes flashing. "You think I enjoy being told what to do, who to talk to, how to behave? Do you know what it's like to have people look at you and only see your name? Your father's title?"

Willem hesitated. He hadn't expected her to get so riled up. "Well... no," he admitted. "But—"

"But nothing," Elizabeth interrupted, leaning forward. "You think being noble is easy? Try living in a gilded cage, paperboy. It might look nice from the outside, but it's still a cage."

The carriage went quiet. Willem scratched the back of his neck, feeling a little guilty. "I didn't mean to—"

"Forget it," Elizabeth said, turning back to the window.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The sound of the wheels on the road filled the silence, along with the occasional chirp of birds outside.

Finally, Willem cleared his throat. "I didn't mean to upset you."

Elizabeth didn't look at him, but her shoulders relaxed slightly.

"And for what it's worth," Willem added, "I don't think you'd do well in a cage."

Elizabeth glanced at him, her lips twitching into a small smile. "No, I wouldn't."

"Too stubborn," Willem said, grinning.

"Too much attitude," she shot back, her smile growing.

They both laughed, and the tension in the carriage dissolved.