I burst through the door of the ladies' resting room heedless of the ruckus I caused. A number of feminine titters and exclamations followed me as I dashed through the sitting area to slam the door to a lavatory behind me. I leaned back against it, catching my breath. Despite the sprigs of lilac and lavender in the room, it did nothing to calm my nerves or hide the smell. I stayed only as long as it took me to compose myself, dashing away the few tears that had squeezed from my eyes.

Blowing out my cheeks, I drew my shoulders back and squared them. I had made a decision and I intended to follow through with it. Despite whatever emotions were still roiling around my gut, I was fairly certain it was the right choice. Andrew deserved at least some semblance of happiness in the future and a few weeks befriending me shouldn't result in him being stuck with some simpering idiot as a wife for the rest of his life.

Besides, I had my own troubles to attend to. My mother's list was still sitting at the bottom of my trunk, with three names now crossed off. James Amberly, William Weatherington, and Martin Pendleton were all no longer in contention. I wondered belatedly if my rude escape from Oliver had ruined any chance of potentially pursuing him as a suitor. If his chattering could be trusted, he would soon be taking his brother's place as a Season member which would surely be sufficient to earn my mother's approval.

I forced the bubble of panic back down when visions of boring houses and boring dinners with Oliver sitting across from me appeared in my head. I wouldn't think about the future now, I had a cotillion to attend.

"Maybelle dear, that right there is why I never permit you to stuff your face at a ball. Ladies don't barge into the resting room to go vomit up their dinner,"

I had made it halfway across the sitting room when Ashley's words drew my eyes to where she was primping at one of the many vanity tables. She was watching me in the mirror, her pale blue eyes dancing that she'd successfully drawn my attention. Satisfied that her jibe had been heard, she returned to studying her magnificent face in the mirror.

"But as I was saying, ladies," she continued, while Rosemary powdered her face and Jane and Maybelle adjusted her hair, "I'm not concerned in the least. Andrew was hanging all over me yesterday and if I keep away from him, he'll be sure to seek me out. All those ninnies are flocking to him because homely Harriet somehow won the first ring and now they're in a panic. They don't know how to keep a man guessing and wanting more,"

My feet rooted them to the spot as I fiddled with my bracelet, pretending to adjust it if only so I could listen to whatever else Ashley had to say about Andrew.

"But wouldn't it be wise to at least show some interest? Are you sure that ignoring him is a wise course of action?" Jane Cartwell asked, her face scrunched in concentration as she re-pinned some of Ashley's cascading blonde curls. The debutante swatted her away with a glower when Jane pulled too hard on a lock of hair.

"Ouch, you ham-fisted halfwit!" Ashley snarled, glaring at Jane, "And yes I'm sure! As for you, were you never taught that it's quite rude to stare?"

I didn't realize she was speaking to me until she'd risen from the chair and turned towards me. I dropped the hand that was fiddling with my bracelet to face her.

"That really is a fascinating hairdo, I was simply admiring Jane's handiwork," I said. Ashley's eyes narrowed as Jane flushed. The debutante cocked her head to the side, taking a few menacing steps towards me. I refused to be intimidated, especially in the face of such a bully.

"You know, I do think I've finally figured out why you're here," she said, pointing her fan at my chest as she started to circle me, dragging the lacy edge across my collarbone, "I've asked Ella time and again what you're good for and every time she blushes prettily without an answer. I originally thought you were simply here for your own reasons, but all too often you 'accidentally' end up in the same place as the prince..."

She had made her way around me and was facing me again, only to tap me on the cheek with her fan. I clenched my hands into fists, willing my temper down so as not to strike this conceited brat of a girl.

"You're her spy," she said, her blue eyes lighting up as if convinced she'd discovered the truth. I didn't fight the laugh that rose to my lips.

"I think you've read one too many romances, Ashley. Or perhaps your brain is as frilly as your clothes," I fired back at her, "But a spy must be inconspicuous, which I most certainly am not,"

Her smile had vanished and now she was facing me with cold calculation in her eyes.

"Yes, you do tend to stick out like a sore thumb," Ashley said slowly, a wicked grin blooming on her face, "And it's Lady Mayfair to you. That is, until it becomes Queen Ashley,"

I snorted.

"I'd eat my shoe before I curtseyed to you," I snapped. Her smile widened.

"But it's not your decision, is it?" she asked sweetly, "It's my darling Prince Andrew's. And I'm sure you saw how enchanted he was with me yesterday when we strolled through the gardens together. Did you know he even plucked me a rose?"

I said nothing, my fists quivering at my sides as I did my best to shrug. Ashley was waiting for a reaction and I refused to give it to her.

"He sent Ella a full bouquet last week," I lied, "A single rose seems a little stingy,"

"Oh you foolish girl, you still think your cousin stands a chance? I've been the queen's favourite for some time now, ever since you tromped back into the palace with the princess, covered in mud like a pair of commoners," Ashley laughed, "If you thought that befriending useless little Anne would earn you any special privileges, you are sorely mistaken. That pathetic excuse for a princess is going to be married off as soon as possible next Season because I don't intend on keeping her around to pester me after Andrew proposes,"

"He'd never pick a viper like you," I spat. Ashley laughed anew, rolling her eyes.

"You must really be daft if you think he has a choice," she giggled, running her eyes over me, "He's the crown prince, he has never had a say in who he marries, which is fortunate because his taste in women is decidedly lacking. At least his mother knows how to choose a proper queen,"

I said nothing, feeling the colour rise into my face despite my best efforts to fight it. Ashley smiled as she watched me flush, her eyes gleefully drinking in my struggle to control myself.

"I think my only regret when I marry him will be that I would have much preferred his brother," she said, shooting a knowing look at Jane and Maybelle, "Thomas is so much more exciting than dull and dreary Andrew. But if it means I'll win a crown, it doesn't really matter who I marry does it?"

My arms twitched and I clenched my arms to my sides so I wouldn't reach out and smack Ashley.

"Oh now don't go getting so upset. It's not as if your cousin stood a real chance anyway," Ashley said, pouting to mock me, before she turned and trilled a laugh, "Come ladies, let's leave the auburn-haired harlot be while we go enamour our prince,"

She swept past me in a rush of silk and perfume, her elbow catching my side as she made her way towards the door. Jane, Maybelle, and Rosemary followed her, their noses firmly pointed skyward. I waited until I was sure they were long gone before I loosed a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

I took a quick look at myself in the mirror and groaned in frustration when I saw that my pale skin was splotchy and mottled with emotion. I chewed my lip as I looked around for a potential escape that didn't necessitate me returning to the ball. I sent up a quick prayer of thanks when I finally discovered a service door after pulling aside every wall hanging in the room.

I navigated the darkened service corridors until I found my way to the familiar first floor area that housed the little library. From there, I found my way back up to Ella's suite, the room still thankfully shrouded in silence with the dying fire casting the only flickering light. I collapsed onto the loveseat, pressing my hands to my face.

It was only after Ashley's words had snapped me back to my senses that I realized what a colossal mistake I'd almost made. I'd thought I wouldn't care who Andrew married so long as he was happy, but Ashley's words had opened my eyes to the very real possibility that he could end up with a snake in a skirt like her without even realizing it. Even after he'd reassured me that he wasn't considering Ashley during our last visit in the little library, he'd gone ahead and flirted with her in the rose garden. If Ashley was as charming and coquettish around him as I suspected she was, he could truly have no idea (besides a veiled warning from me) about what kind of woman she really was. Given that they spent so much more time together, she could feed him all sorts of lies to talk him around even if I did warn him again.

My stomach somersaulted with dread as I considered the broader consequences of such a realization. How could Andrew trust his opinion of any of the debutantes? How could he even tell which of them were pretending to fall in love with him in order to win a crown and which of them genuinely cared for him? What if none of them cared for him as a person at all?

I swallowed, digging into my bodice where the parchment of the masquerade invitation was still pressed up against my skin. I opened it again, tilting it towards the light of the dying fire as I read over the words.

His Royal Highness Crown Prince Andrew

requests your presence at the

Midsummer Night's Masquerade

I ran my hands over the writing, my insides churning with desperation. Ashley could have been lying when she said she was the queen's favourite, but I furrowed my brow as I considered the rest of the debutantes. Penelope had fallen from the queen's favour the day she had arrived late to the first salon, while Emmeline was too much of a gossip to have earned more than one or two elite event invitations. Harriet Smith was out of contention and now that Ella was infatuated with James, so was she. Andrew's feelings on Mary Marquette had been made clear enough the day they'd barged into the little library together, so there wasn't much chance that she was the queen's top choice either. That left Sarah and Ashley...

I folded the invitation back up as grim determination washed over me. If I couldn't steal a moment to speak to Andrew alone, I would have to go to the masquerade if only to expose Ashley's true nature. While I hoped he'd take me at my word, I had to make sure that he witnessed some transgression of hers to be certain he'd be convinced despite whatever lies she'd spin to change his mind.

Whatever became of me, I was determined to go. I would willingly bear whatever punishment I'd have to endure from Ella for my betrayal, from James for going back on my word, and from my parents for neglecting to secure an advantageous match, especially if it meant sparing Andrew a lifetime of marriage to Ashley.