It was back to the wardrobe for us. The second time around, this was a place to hatch an escape plan of sorts. "Your uncle has put in a request for you to come visit at his manse, at least for a few weeks," I said, after I sat on the floor under a blue shimmersilk cape. I didn't move the thing, because I cared less about my discomfort than the dilemma of Josym's predicament. "It isn't unusual. You've gone there every summer since you were a boy.” “I don’t want to get married.” “What?” Getting caught up in my own twisted labyrinth of thoughts means that I tune out every so often. “Most likely.”