Exactly fifteen minutes later, I was escorted into my parents' Highcastle home by a maid I didn't recognize. I blinked as I took in the house in all of its former splendour. Gone were the empty rooms and walls devoid of paintings, the lavish furnishings and plush decor re-installed by the small army of servants bustling about.

"Oh good, you've arrived," my mother said, appearing from the front parlour. She looked exactly as I remembered her, her brown hair shot through with grey and coiled into a tight knot at the base of her skull. She stood ramrod straight, as always, with a stillness so complete it was almost eerie. She was everything my finishing school mistresses had hoped to transform me into, yet none of them had come close to succeeding.

"I thought you'd closed the house," I said, blurting out the first words that came to mind as she advanced towards me, her sharp eyes taking in my day dress. Ever since Millie had stopped dressing me, I'd chosen to dress only in the Parisian clothes Andrew had bought for me in a form of silent rebellion against the queen and her influence. My mother's lips pursed at my words, but she dismissed them with a wave of her slender hand.

"I must say, whatever they've done at the palace seems to have done a much better job than Hargrove," she replied, still looking me over, "You really could pass for a lady. Follow me, Elizabeth."

I pursed my own lips at her mention of my expulsion and followed her obediently down the hallway towards my father's study. Clearly my mother was in no mood to explain why they'd decided to reopen the city house despite the family debt.

"Is father home?" I asked when she closed the door behind us. His books had been returned, lining the walls along with the many trinkets I'd so loved to toy with when I was a child. I picked up a miniature jade bird from his desk as I looked around at all the possessions I never thought I'd see again.

"The prince, Elizabeth?"

My mother's words had me whirling around to face her. Now that we were safely in the privacy of the study, the rage was apparent in her hazel eyes. But despite the anger quivering in her words, the rest of her body language was just as reserved as it had been in the hallway. I clasped my hands behind my back, forcing them not to shake.

"Pardon me?" I said, attempting to gauge the level of her wrath. Her jaw muscle pulsed.

"You rejected Prince Andrew," she managed through gritted teeth. My heart plummeted. I'd faced my mother when she was angry before, but this was by far the worst she'd ever been.

"No, mother, I didn't," I said flatly, "And frankly I thought you were wise enough to disregard unkind rumours spewed by the gossip mill."

She rushed towards me so quickly that I took a step back, banging into the bookshelf as she loomed before me. I could tell that she was straining to maintain her veneer of calm, but my belligerence was wearing it thin.

"You do realize that a family like ours does not have luxury of declining the title of queen? Have you any idea what you've done?" she demanded, her voice rising now, "You could have freed us all from this debt!"

"What debt!" I fired back, thrusting the jade figurine towards her, "Because it certainly seems like our money troubles have vanished!"

"They haven't, you foolish girl!" she snapped, "But we couldn't appear to be country paupers if our daughter was to be queen!"

"So once again this is all my fault?" I demanded, "Because the last I checked, I'm the one who secured myself a place in the Season to attempt to placate your need for a good marriage!"

"Yes, Elizabeth, this is your fault! Do you have any idea the expense we incurred to reopen this house?" my mother said, her voice dropping into a deadly calm as she gestured to the bookshelves surrounding us, "And now that you've gone and ruined your chances-"

"I didn't ruin my chances!" I shouted, interrupting her, "I only wanted a few days to myself before-"

"A few days to yourself?" my mother nearly shrieked, incredulous, "You threw away your chance at a crown so you could have a few days to yourself?"

"I wanted to clear my head before I was imprisoned in that palace for the rest of my life!" I shouted back, the jade bird digging painfully into my clenched fist.

"Imprisoned? I fail to see how sitting atop a throne in Highcastle Palace could ever be considered imprisonment!" my mother hissed, shaking her head. Her eyes were alight with that same disappointment she'd regarded me with for the majority of my life, but this time it was magnified by the barest of contempt. Instead of cower before her, however, I refused to back down as I had so often in the past.

"Of course you do, because all you've ever wanted was shackle me to some man to get rid of me in exchange for more riches!" I shouted back, annoyed that my eyes had started to prickle. She retracted as if stung, but words were not enough to stop her from seeing the argument through.

"Don't be a fool, Elizabeth! Marriage is the only choice for a woman," she said, her tone once again dangerously measured, "And you could have secured the greatest marriage in the entire kingdom, yet you threw it away for fear of being 'imprisoned',"

I stared her down, determined to stand behind my words. She would never understand what I was facing at the palace or why I'd needed a brief reprieve. My mother was cut from the same cloth as girls like Adelaide Winters. When I was younger, I'd always wondered how she knew just the right thing to say or do, but I now recognized it as the impeccable grooming of my grandmother, shaping and moulding my mother into the perfect lady that she was. When I was sent away to my first finishing school, I'd tried my very best to make her proud and succeed as she had at my age. I attempted to emulate my refined, pretty classmates with their soft voices and perfect posture, but a few months in it became very clear to me that my rambunctious, rule-flouting self would never fit into that perfect mould at all.

"Luckily for you, you still have one suitor who hasn't been put off by your fall from grace," my mother said, her nostrils flaring as she exhaled.

"What suitor?" I asked, a wave of dread crashing over me. I knew her answer before she said it.

"Dorian Fletcher, of course," she said, frowning at me in disbelief.

"That bastard is no suitor of mine!" I snarled. Her hand rose faster than I could duck.

The slap rang through the silence of the room, my left cheek stinging as my head snapped to the side. I brought a hand to my cheek, wide-eyed with shock as I stared at my mother's bared teeth.

"I never want to hear such language from you again!" she snapped, brandishing a thin finger in my face, "Least of all about the man you're to marry!"

"What!" I roared, panic immobilizing me.

"He seems quite taken with you," my mother said, crossing around to sit at my father's desk, "He's gone so far as to sponsor your brother's studies, among other things.

"I don't want to marry him, I barely even know him!" I protested, my voice coming out in a strangled shout.

"Do you really think you have any say in this matter, Elizabeth?" my mother demanded impatiently, squeezing the bridge of her nose, "We cannot afford to allow you to waste another opportunity! There are only so many chances we can make for you!"

"Chances you can make for me?" I demanded, incredulous, "In case you've forgotten, Mother, I secured my place as a debutante all on my own! The family spot went to cousin Annabelle!"

"Yes and you'll be lucky if she doesn't steal Dorian away from you the way that Jezebel of a princess stole Lord Amberly from Ella," she snapped, "But then perhaps you should've learned from poor Ella's mistake. Men aren't to be trusted until there's a ring around your finger."

I hated that her words punched through the armour-plating around my heart, planting a little seed of doubt about Andrew's intentions.

"Well I don't want Dorian, so Annabelle can have him for all I care!" I snapped. My mother let out an exasperated sigh, planting her hands on the desk as she stood to face me.

"I'd hoped you'd grown up a little bit, but it seems that only your outward appearance has changed," she said, that disappointment in her eyes again, "Dorian came to a rather favourable arrangement with your father and thankfully he hasn't changed his mind after your disastrous tumble from favour at the palace. He may very well be your last chance at a match, so you will not ruin your chances with him the way you ruined your chances with the prince."

"There was no tumble from favour! Andrew still intends to propose to me!" I shouted, desperate now, "You can't do this! If Andrew finds out, he'll never-"

"The sooner you realize that he's going to marry Ashley Mayfair, the better!" my mother shouted over me, "And you will be marrying Dorian, or you can forget about calling yourself a Marks-Whelan. We won't have any means to support you, nor would we want to if you let us down again."

The words stung like a second slap. Ashley? How did my mother even know she was one of the queen's top three, let alone suspect that she was Andrew's favourite?

There is more going on here than you seem able to grasp...

I shook my head to clear it, forcing Thomas' voice back to the corner it had appeared from. Andrew was naming me as one of his top three. Nothing had changed since the winter garden and there was no way this sham of an engagement would ever see the light of day.

"Then good riddance," I said, turning on my heel to leave.

"There's one thing I forgot to mention," my mother said, that deadly calm returning to her voice, "If you refuse, we'll disown Xavier as well. Dorian's funding was contingent on your engagement and without a name or an education, your brother won't be able to marry that pretty little colonel's daughter. Do you really want that for him?"

I swallowed as the pit of dread in my stomach that I'd fought for days to close reared open it's ugly maw, threatening to swallow me whole.

"No," I muttered, frantically searching for a way out of the corner she'd backed me into.

"Good, because your father has already agreed to Dorian's proposal. He will be calling on you in a few days to make it official. Until then, you'll be staying here with us, so I can prepare you for your duties as the lady of the Fletcher household," she said, "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm due to meet the Marquess Winston for brunch."

"Staying here?" I repeated, following her towards the door. She looked around at me with a frown.

"Surely you understand that there's no reason for you to be at the palace any longer? You're engaged now, Elizabeth," she said coldly.

My mother swept from the room without so much as even a kiss goodbye. I stood rooted to the spot, finally unclenching my hands. They were white and shaking, the jade bird figurine having gouged into the flesh of my palm. I fought back my tears, biting my tongue so hard I tasted blood in order to come to my senses.

I had to get back to Andrew. I hadn't anticipated that my quest for freedom would land me in an even more sinister prison, but I wasn't about to be locked up without a fight.