“How did you go from ‘that guy is weird’ to ‘I’m going to pretend to be engaged to him’?” Ledi asked. “I’m not judging—you know I want you to embrace your freedom. I’m just confused.”

Nya was quite sure that Ledi was judging, at least a little, but she couldn’t blame her. It had come out of nowhere—to anyone who had never been privy to Nya’s more fantastical daydreams.

“I was gonna ask if they’d shagged, but your question is more tactful,” Portia said, reaching for a handful of popcorn.

Ledi took an unpopped kernel and threw it at Portia. “You and your fake Scottish accent need to chill.”

“It’s called ‘phonetic accommodation,’ ya knob, and I get teased enough in the tabloids, so shut it,” Portia drawled, eyes narrowed in Ledi’s direction as she loaded a whole handful of popcorn. Ledi trained another kernel in Portia’s direction, as if looking down a sniper’s scope, and after a stare down they both lowered their fluffy weapons. Portia glanced at Nya. “And tabloids are something you’re going to have to deal with, too. Even if you only plan on doing this for a few weeks, it can be really, really intense.”

Nya felt a stirring of panic at that—freedom wasn’t the only reason she had run from Thesolo. Some of the less professional journalists had tried all manner of ways of approaching her—stalking her in the palace gardens and even sneaking into her hospital room.

She’d thought she would be left behind once everyone returned to their daily lives, but now she was about to set out on an adventure that would thrust her into the spotlight. She wouldn’t be alone, but perhaps she wasn’t as prepared as she needed to be.

“I’m aware of the risks, but I think I must go.” She held up her hand and looked at the ring Johan had slipped onto her finger. The ring she knew meant so much to him, but that he still had trusted her enough to let her wear. “I’m like Frodo.”

Ledi rolled her eyes. “That’s a horrible comparison. You’re definitely more of a Samwise.”

“Oh my goddess,” Nya said, hand to her chest. “That’s so nice of you!”

Portia did let her popcorn fly this time, pelting both of them. “Can we be serious for a second? Like, I’m in the paper a lot with speculation about whether Tavish and I will get married and what kind of duchess I’ll be if we do and whether I’m good enough. And Tav, while I think he’s the hottest man alive, is in the paper a fraction of the amount that Johan is. So be prepared.”

“Speaking of that.” Naledi reached down and handed over a small travel bag. “Condoms, travel size lube, plan B, zip ties—don’t look at me like that—and more condoms.”

Nya tried pushing the pouch back to her. “No, it’s not like that,” she said, though she remembered the heat in Johan’s eyes. She remembered him saying he would debauch her if she wanted, and how close his lips had come to hers the night of the wedding.

Ledi shook her head. “Girl, look. We’ve all read this fanfic. You’ve sent me this fanfic. I’m not saying this is going to last forever, but I would be remiss in my duties as your friend if I didn’t send you out equipped.”

“Aw, you’re like the fairy godmother of safe sex, Ledi,” Portia said with real affection. “And you never know, Nya. Maybe you’ll meet some other dashing man on your adventure and fall in love for real. Better to be prepared.”

“No!” Nya said. “Well. That is. I don’t think I can feel that way about a man without knowing him for some time.”

“You’ve only known Johan for a few days.” Ledi dropped the pouch into Nya’s lap and gave it a firm pat. “You never really talked to him before, right?”

“He didn’t talk to me,” Nya corrected. She didn’t add that though she hadn’t spoken, she’d watched. She’d fantasized, despite her odd resentment of him. She felt like she knew him, even as she was learning that he wasn’t quite the man the tabloids made him out to be—or the man he tried to convince everyone he was.

“That’s not better,” Ledi said with an eye roll. “And didn’t you tell me that you were done with spoiled, demanding men when I asked if you had feelings for Thabiso way back when?”

“Yes. But I think maybe Johan’s not really like that?” Nya was starting to feel unsure of herself. Was her father right? Was she just a foolish girl getting herself into trouble?

Ledi and Portia shot each other worried glances.

“I think he’s great,” Portia said. “But—”

“This isn’t about him,” Nya said firmly. Her friends were crossing the line from caring into coddling, exactly what she wanted to escape. “I want to be exciting, and glamorous. I want to do things without people worrying over me like I’m a child riding a bike without training wheels. Both of you already have love and freedom and respect, so you wouldn’t understand.”

Neither of them could know what it was like, coveting adventure so badly after being trained to believe that wanting anything other than being a good girl made her a bad one.

“I was too scared to live freely in New York,” she said. “That’s why I didn’t go out much, or make friends, or live the life I thought wanted. But now, maybe I won’t be scared.”