The Debutante (Season Series #2)

Chapter 20: A Sunrise Summons

The next morning, I awoke more tired than I'd been when I'd gone to sleep that night. I could hardly believe it when Brenna came in, singing her good mornings as she opened the curtains. Dinner had devolved into Thomas teasing me while Xavier ground his teeth, Georgina looked thoroughly overwhelmed, and Anne and James kept shooting glances at one another. I checked the grandfather clock every five minutes, bemoaning how slowly the time was passing.

Worst of all was that I saw hide nor hair of Andrew all evening. I strained my ears over the conversation for any sound of the royal carriage returning from the Ardalonian embassy, which Thomas noticed and teased me mercilessly for.

"Your darling prince won't be back until much, much later," he said archly, seeming to relish the way his words made me squirm. I kicked him under the table and he was at least gentlemanly enough to do no more than grin into his drink at my assault.

Once Brenna and Elspeth had tucked me in to sleep, it took every last ounce of my willpower not to don the maid uniform and hover in the shadows of the entrance hall to await Andrew's return. But then there was the dilemma of whether they would even use the entrance hall. Perhaps there was some separate entrance to the old palace that I didn't know about and I'd be lurking in the shadows all night for nothing.

So I'd slept, fitfully.

"Have you taken a look at the day's schedule yet?" Brenna asked, as I looked around for a breakfast tray, yawning.

"Is there breakfast?" I asked, my eyes still drooping closed. Brenna snapped her fingers in my face to draw my attention.

"There most certainly is," she said, "With the royal family! So you'd best not go falling asleep into your porridge."

"I hate porridge," I muttered, yawning again.

"Goodness, Libby, you need to pull yourself together!" Brenna chided, starting to run a brush through my bed-mussed hair, "Why in heaven's name are you so tired?"

I stared at my face in the mirror, a pair of plum smudges beneath my eyes to attest to my restless sleep.

"I slept poorly," I said, wondering whether the face staring back at me was worthy of a crown.

"Well perhaps you should take a nap this afternoon, you'll have a late night with the ball tonight and-" Brenna started, only to be cut off by a knock at the suite door. She and Elspeth both glanced towards it before exchanging a look. It was far too early for anyone to be calling, but Brenna nodded for Elspeth to answer it anyway.

"Lady Marks-Whelan's presence is requested by Her Majesty," a stiff-backed, grey-haired maid said, running stern eyes over the suite until they landed on me. She blinked once and I could feel Brenna bristle behind me.

"Isn't it a little early? She's only just woken," Brenna said, hastily abandoning the brush to twist my hair into a knot at the nape of my neck.

"Is it your place to question Her Majesty?" the grey-haired maid asked, still cooly polite. Brenna grumbled something under her breath that sounded dangerously like a curse word before she spoke again.

"Of course not, my apologies. We'll send her along shortly," Brenna said, the politeness in her voice forced.

"I'm to escort her. Her Majesty does not enjoy being kept waiting," said the maid at the door. Poor Elspeth was still standing there and the grey-haired woman's chilly gaze roved to her.

"Shouldn't you be fetching her a dress?" the older maid asked, earning a squeak from Elspeth before she darted into the closet. Brenna's jaw muscle had started pulsing as I watched her work in the mirror.