"Addie, get down here this instant!"

The shrill shriek of my sister was enough to startle me as I finished preparing for the day ahead in my chambers. The sudden, piercing noise that had interrupted the usual serene quiet of morning in my family's town home, Vipera Manor, made me jump, the sash I had previously been clutching fluttering to the floor.

"I'll be a moment." I call back, turning to give my maid, Delphine, a sour look, to which she only laughs. I lean over and take the sash from the floor, quickly fixing it on before leaving the room at a brisk pace, curious as to what had already made my sister so angry at such an hour.

To stall, I toured a good lot of the rooms that made up the first floor before I happened upon her, the girl nearly identical to me, save for her deep green eyes.

Lillibet's immaculately manicured eyebrows are furrowed, her mouth twisted in a sneer, and as she moves her hand out from her coral-colored skirts, I notice a piece of stationary slightly crumpled in her hand.

"What is it then?" I asked quietly, unable to completely read the situation enough to decide if I should need to brace myself.

"What is the meaning of this?" She holds up the piece of stationary, once again bringing my attention to it. It is thick, and shows one hasty scribble of black ink, but it was too far away for me to be able to decipher what it says.

"You've been reading my messages again." I narrow my eyes.

"Oh, forget that! How could you do this to me? When you know how important this season is to be for me!" She cries, throwing the letter down at my feet. I quickly pick it up, smoothing away the parts where it had been crumpled, finally unfolding it to see what had been written inside that upset her so.

Adalie Fleur Blackmore,

You are hereby invited to participate in,

The Brighton Season

Hosted by Her Majesty, Queen Louisa

Be sure to arrive at the Royal Palace promptly, the morning of April 7th

A strangled gasp escapes me, as I read over the print again at least 10 times. It couldn't be!

"Lillibet, truthfully, I can't be sure." I looked up to her finally, my eyes still widened with surprised.

"You must've begged, of course, you little harlot!" She seethes then, her green eyes holding unmasked distaste. I shrink back, guilt rising inside of me almost instantly. A couple of warm tears gather in my eyes, but I quickly blink them away.

"Father insisted I was not allowed to participate in the season with you, and nothing has changed! I promise to you, I do not understand how I acquired an invitation." I explain half-heartedly, fully knowing she would choose not to believe me, as always.

By this moment, she is shaking with anger, a look of pure disgust taking over her otherwise perfect features.

Lillibet was among the rarest in our country who held the title of an Elite. This is a tradition unique to Aisling, and one that had been upheld since our country's founding. For every child born to the royal family, three perfect matches are chosen as toddlers by the king and queen, and deemed the only suitors in the world fit to marry their corresponding royal family member.

My sister had been chosen over me, not long after our birth, as a worthy possible match for the crown prince, the most important match to be eligible for. These Elite are presented to the royal as debutantes, along with the others of the Brighton Season, and because the royals are trusted to find their own perfect match left to their own devices, the identities of the Elite are to be kept a secret. My family, and a few trusted friends and confidants- which did not include the prince- were the only people in all of the land that were aware of my sister's status. Because of all of this, my father had decided I was not to debut at the same time as her, for I was considered a disaster waiting to happen, and he refused to sponsor me.

"Father WILL hear of this, you can be sure of it!" Lillibet promises, before leaving the room with one final angry huff.

I stand in the parlor for what feels like hours but can only be minutes, struggling to grasp what had happened only moments earlier. I look over the contents of the letter once again; this time, I can't help feeling a small bubble of joy.

Ever since I was a little girl, I had always dreamed of the day I would finally participate in the Brighton Season. Visions of the palace, gorgeous gowns, smiles and laughter, balls and formal dinners, waltzing, and a beautiful man ready to happily whisk me away from the terrors I faced in my home life dance across my mind, and a light blush warms my cheeks, a little, elated smile taking over my face.

I decidedly allow myself to be excited at the prospect, despite knowing that Lillibet would surely soon be aggravating my Father at the revelation of what I had received today.

With any luck, this symbolizes the start of my life finally changing for the better.

-

The next time I see Delphine, she has appeared at my door with a message.

"Your father wishes to speak with you." She announces, a note of sympathy already evident in her tone. I nod solemnly, setting the invitation down on my vanity for the first time since I had picked it from the ground this morning.

Father's study is a long way from my chambers, and it was likely arranged that way deliberately, so that there is little possibility of the two of us running into each other on any given day.

I take quick strides, dreading the meeting with each step closer, but worrying of his distaste for when anyone is not prompt.

I pause as I reach the foreboding oak doors, taking a moment to let in a deep breath, a heavy sense of dread forming in my stomach like a brick.

I raise my knuckles and knock twice, a gruff "enter" following the sound almost immediately.

"Father," I greet as the doors close behind me.

"Elizabeth has informed me that you are to be debuting in the Season." He goes straight to the point, studying me, his powerful gaze holding my own.

"I received an unexpected invitation this morning, that she had shown me." I admit, squirming under his gaze as I always have.

"I fear I had not made it clear to you, why I forebode your entering of society at the same time as your sister." He leans forward in his chair, which inadvertently causes me to shrink into mine.

"You have made it clear, Father, but I-"

"Silence!" He interrupts, and I fall back, flinching at his tone as if I had been stricken.

"You would be nothing but a hindrance to Elizabeth, a distraction, a horrid taint to the name of the woman who is to become Queen someday." Lord Blackmore insults, and I feel the suffocating urge to cry, but I am too terrified to do it in his presence.

"I understand, Father. I do not know how this could be." I say quietly, staring hard at the floor, willing myself to take control of my emotions, to hold on for just a few more minutes. His chair creaks, and I hear him stand, his shiny, flawless boots appearing in my line of vision.

"Nevertheless, since it is your brother who chose to defy me for some god forsaken reason, in the interest of helping you, he will be the only one to commission and look over preparations. I wish to have no part in this." He announces, his tone final.

I am stuck, frozen in my chair. Thomas did this?

For me?

"That will be all, Adalie. Run along." He dismisses, and I finally muster the courage to look up at him one more time, my eyes dewy.

I practically leap from my seat and without thinking, I wipe my nose on the sleeve of my dress in a completely scandalous fashion. My father fixes me with a glare of disgust at the act, muttering under his breath, "foolish child."

I dash from the room, and from within a cloud of hurt, an exciting realization finally dawns on me.

He didn't deny me, because he couldn't. My brother will be sponsoring me.

I will be participating in the Brighton Season after all.

-