The grass behind me swooshes with the sound of someone walking. I fully expect it to be Peri, my best friend, come to calm me down. No one else knows me well enough.

But the feet I see through my tear-blurred eyes do not have Peri’s pretty, copper-tipped toes. They’re big, bare masculine feet.

I huff out a sigh.

“That was a little harsh,” he says as he lowers himself to the sand at my side.

I gaze up at the sky. “I know.”

“She’s jealous of you.”

“Who?” I ask, scowling. “Dosinia? Not likely.”

Quince makes a noise that sounds half like a laugh and half like a growl. “Sometimes you can be so blind when it comes to people, princess.”

Like he knows anything? He’s known Doe for a week—and barely that. I almost point that out…but something about his off-the-wall statement rings true.

“What would she have to be jealous of?” I demand. “She’s the pretty one. The flirty one. The one all the boys chase after.”

He gives me a half smile. “Not all the boys.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I say. “She’s been awful to me since long before you showed up.”

“Lily,” he says, his tone serious, “you’re the princess. The golden child. The entire kingdom looks to you for their future. She’s just…your little cousin. Second string.”

I never thought of it that way. All I ever knew was how jealous I am of her, of her anonymity and her easy way with boys and her classic beauty. She’s everything I’m not. I never thought she might have something to be jealous of, too. I never thought I was worth anyone’s jealousy.

“Just food for thought,” Quince says, pushing back to his feet. He extends his hand, inviting me to take it. “Now let’s go back and exchange gifts so we can get to the next part of this Challenge.”

As I slip my small, pale, freckled hand into his big, tan one, I wonder how it happened that the boy who always made my life so miserable could now make me feel so calm. For the first time, I start to think that Quince and I might wind up friends.

Long after Peri and Dosinia have gone, Quince and I sit on the beach where we traded gifts. He looked happy enough with the necklace—the smile he gave me might have been the first genuine one we’ve shared—but it was nothing compared to his gift for me.

“I can’t believe you had time to do all this,” I repeat, sounding like a broken record. It’s a small miracle. I shake my head. “How did you learn to do this?”

On the beach before us, just beyond the reach of high tide, is a massive sand castle. But this is not just any sand castle with uneven walls and bucket-shaped turrets. No, this is an almost-perfect scale replica of the Thalassinian royal palace. Complete down to the curtains on my bedroom window.

Quince shrugs, like it’s no big deal, but I can feel his pride at my obvious pleasure. “My dad used to take me to the beach a lot. He liked to build sand castles, so I got plenty of practice.”

I don’t know much about Quince’s dad other than the fact that he’s not around. I think Quince sees him once a year. I can’t imagine having a living parent not be part of your life. If would kill me if Mom were alive and just…absent.

But maybe it’s better than nothing.

“Your dad,” I begin, suddenly interested in learning more about Quince’s life. “Where does he—”

“The necklace is great,” Quince says abruptly, as if that’s the logical next moment in our conversation, and not a diversion tactic—which it obviously is.

I almost call him on it, forcing him to at least listen to my question. Until I see the faraway look in his eyes…and feel the underlying pain.

I’m not that cruel.

“Compared to your castle,” I say instead, “my necklace looks like a cheap tourist trinket.”

“No,” Quince insists, his mood lightening. He lifts the sand dollar from his chest and studies its cinquefoil design. “It’s perfect. One of a kind. You can’t even take my gift home.”

“I have a mental photograph.” I flash him a smile. “I’ll remember it every time I see the real thing.”

When I say that, his gaze shifts out over the ocean, to the horizon, like he can see all the way back to the mainland. The air falls silent, even the breeze stills, and I feel a surprising sadness—whether it’s his or mine I’m not sure. I expect him to say something—I’m not sure what, though I’m almost eager to hear it—but he just kind of sighs and gives me a lopsided smile.

Something urges me to fill the silence. “You know—”

“There you are, darlings,” Calliope’s singsong voice trills. “I thought you might have left.”

We both turn to see her walking toward us from the other side of the island.

“No, ma’am,” Quince says politely, rising to his feet and holding down a hand to me. “Wouldn’t want to violate the rules of the Challenge.”

Judging from the blissful look on her face, I can see that is just the right thing to say to her. “Excellent,” she coos. “Excellent.”

I let him pull me to my feet, standing and dusting the sand off the back of my finkini.

“How was your first test?” she asks. Then, noticing the sand sculpture behind us, says, “Ooh, Lily, that is a perfect replica of your palace. What a wonderful gift for Quince.”