Free A Kiss in Time by Alex Flinn Page A

chill runs through me when she says stoned at sun- rise. Do they actually do that? In
     any case, shes clearly not going to stop them.
    You know, youre not as sweet as I thought you were, I say.
    I am sweet. Could have fooled me. I am. Sweet and compliant. Or I was, my first sixteen years, the most docile, malleable creature one might ever imagine. I would have made
     someone a fine wife. But then everything changed. Or rather, nothing did. I am grown up,
     and I am still being treated like a child, or an animal. Do you know what it is to be
     treated as chattel?
    I dont even know what a chattel is. Sorry. I was too caught up in the whole
     being-locked-in-a-dungeon thing.
    To be treated like you have no choice in what you do in life?
    My dad wants me to take over his business when I grow up. Hes a developer, like he builds
     communities where all the houses look alike. I hate it, but he wont take no for an answer.
     I guess its irrelevant, though, if Im going to die here.
    You wish to leave, then? When I dont answer, she says, Well? That was a question? Of course I wish to leave. Then I shall help you leave, but upon one
     condition. I think I know what the condition is. You must take me with you. She grabs my
     hand and squeezes it.
    And we have a winner.
    I know I should keep my mouth shut, but I say, Yeah, about that. I know Im supposed to be
     your true love and marry you and all, but Im only seventeen. It might be perfectly normal
     to get married at seventeen in your timeyour old time. But no one gets married that young
     now.
    She laughs. Marry? I do not wish to marry you! She laughs so hard Im worried stuff will
     start flying out of her nose.
    She doesnt need to laugh that much. You dont?
    Hardly. Let us not forget that you were the one who kissed me.
    Oh, I get it. Its because Im not a prince.
    She sighs. It does not signify. I do not wish to marry you, and you do not wish to marry
     me, but I do wish you to take me with you when you go.
    Look, Princess . . . Your Majesty . . . Talia will do. Talia will not do. Dont get me
     wrong. Youre beautiful,
    and therere a lot of guys whod love to take you wherever theyre going.
    No. No?
    No. Those others are all dead. Every suitable consort is dead and has been for nearly
     three hundred years.
    But your father will never let you go away with me, especially if were not married.
    No, of course he will not.
    Okay, so we understand each other. I try to shake off her hand, which is difficult with
     her grasping mine. Any- way, it was nice meeting you. Good luck with the princess thing.
     Now, if you can just get your father to let me out of here No! Shes still holding my hand. I am not asking to marry you, nor am I going to ask my
     fathers permission to let you go or to leave with you. I wish to sneak out, under cover of
     darkness, and leave Euphrasia. I wish to go with you, not as man and wife, but merely as
     friends, travel com- panions, the sort of happy-go-lucky chums about whom rollicking old
     ballads of the road are written. She grips my hand even harder. You owe it to me.
    I owe you? How do you figure?
    You woke me up. You ruined everything. Had you not come along with your intrusive lips,
     someone else would have woken me, someone who loved me and could have saved me and
     Euphrasia. A prince. Or perhaps we would have slept forever.
    And that would be a good thing?
    It seems preferable to waking and having everyone know that I am the ruin of my kingdom,
     to having my father despise me. Jack, you desire to escape. I wish to run away. I thought we might help each
     other. And if you dont . . . Her voice trails off.
    And if I dont?
    Well, then, I shall run away on my own, venturing out into the cold, cruel world full of
     buses and telephones and other matters of which I know nothing. I have no map and no
     money, save a large quantity of priceless jewels.
    Did she say jewels?
    Without you, she continues, I might be robbed or . . .