"Please, where would I find the queen's salon?" I asked, stopping the most decorated maid I could find. She sniffed, frowning at seeing me in the service corridor.

"The debutantes should all have gathered there already," she said.

"My dress had popped a seam, I couldn't bear to be such a slob in front of Her Majesty," I said, demurely dropping my head. The maid gave a curt nod of approval, only to gesture for me to follow her. She led me through a winding series of hidden doors and service corridors that led us out to a wood-paneled hallway on what must have been one of the upper floors of the old palace. Music drifted out from a door left just ajar at the end of the hallway.

"Her Majesty is receiving in her solar today," the maid said, "You'd best run along, she very much disapproves of tardiness,"

It was all I could do not to tumble into the room, dropping my skirts and forcing my heart beat to slow as I sidled in, immediately dropping the lowest curtsey I could manage.

"Come in, dear,"

I looked up to see the queen watching me from atop an elevated divan, a square of needlepoint in her hands. A bevy of gorgeous ladies, surely her own ladies in waiting, were arrayed around her, all of their eyes on me. Scattered around the rest of the room were the debutantes with their own ladies in waiting. I could see Ella's cheeks flushing from across the room, her eyes dropped so as not to see me.

I was about to open my mouth to offer some sort of excuse for insulting her Majesty with my tardiness when there was noise in the hallway behind me.

"...me first!"

Maisie Parker-Winston, one of Penelope Roxton's ladies in waiting stumbled into the room, making a face at whomever had pushed her in first. I took advantage of the distraction to sidle out of the way, skirting the room to make my way towards Ella.

"...to hurry up or else we'd be late!" Penelope snapped as she entered the room, a sneer on her face as she glared at her other ladies in waiting Hattie and Claudette. She froze upon entering the room, the sneer sliding off her face to be replaced by a look of shock. I guffawed despite myself as I tucked myself into the seat next to Rosanna.

Everyone was watching Penelope now, the queen's expression stern as she handed her needlepoint to one of her ladies in waiting. Next to her, Princess Anne was seated on her own, lower seat, and her eyes were fixed on me, narrowing at my laughter. I swallowed, resisting the urge to return her stare. She was royalty, not some mean girl I was in the habit of standing up to at finishing school.

"Tardiness is unacceptable in my debutantes," the queen said frostily, rising from her seat to take the three steps down to stand in front of Penelope. The debutante had wisely sunk into a deep reverence, her eyes on the floor. Across the room from me, I watched as Ashley Mayfair exchanged a wicked grin with Sarah Thornbury, revelling in Penelope's comeuppance. I decided then and there that I didn't much care for Ashley and Sarah.

"Forgive me, your Majesty," Penelope was saying, her face still pointed at the floor. But the colour was unmistakably rising on her neck and cheeks.

"As it is your first invitation to my salon, I will allow you to stay," the queen said, turning away from her to survey the rest of us, "But the next lady who finds herself tardy to one of my events will see herself excused from the rest of the day's social activities. Is that quite understood?"

We all mumbled "yes your Majesty" in unison. She cast her eyes over us one more time before sighing and returning to her seat. She collected her needlepoint and resumed her stitching, ignoring us as the whispers grew into quiet chatter.

"How dare you arrive late!" Emily hissed, her needle flying through the pattern of flowers.

"But I wasn't, Penelope was," I protested. Rosanna harrumphed beside me while Ella remained focused on her needlepoint. I glanced between them, only then realizing that I hadn't brought something to do.

"You heard the queen," Emily persisted, "Perhaps we should follow suit. Perhaps Libby should be banned from the hunt tomorrow,"

"I fail to understand why I'm to be punished if I wasn't the last to arrive!" I protested, meeting Emily's glare. I fervently wished that I'd tracked down that mouse so it could make a cozy little nest in her bed that night.

"Hush!" Ella hissed, looking at each of us in turn, "Ladies do not argue,"

Emily made a face at me when Ella resumed her embroidery and I made a face right back. Annoyed, I cast a look around at the other ladies. Emmie Townsend's laugh floated across the room from where she was playing backgammon against Mary Marquette while their ladies looked on. Harriet Smith was reading with her three ladies in the corner next to where Ella had seated us. I sat up a little straighter as I noticed the line of bookshelves behind them, the writing on their spines reflecting in the sunlight that flooded the room from the solar's windows.

Without another word, I pushed off the couch and made my way towards the bookshelves. I scanned the titles, making a face when it seemed like they were mostly romances and poetry.

"I don't think I've ever watched someone eat so much without unlacing their corset,"

I looked down at the princess in shock as she came to stand beside me. It was only when she turned her blue eyes to me that I remembered to drop a curtsey.

"But that must mean that you have seen someone eat as much, only with an unlaced corset," I offered with a smile. She kept watching me with an unreadable expression, only turning her attention to the bookshelf when the silence stretched uncomfortably long between us. She wordlessly pulled a title from the shelf, handing it to me without so much as looking at me.

"I think you'll find this rather enjoyable," she said, glancing down at the book in my hand before turning to cross back to her mother's side. I glanced down at the title she'd handed me, inhaling when I read the spine.

A Practical Guide to Modern Etiquette

I wanted to guffaw and blush at the same time, choosing instead to school my features into a small smile. I made my way back to the divan next to Rosanna, sitting down to spread the book in my lap. The older girl glanced over at it briefly before looking back in earnest.

"Is that Augusta Templeton's Guide to Modern Etiquette?" she breathed, setting down her needlepoint to peer over at the book.

"I believe so," I said. Rosanna let out a gasp.

"That is the handbook of everything that a proper lady should know! I'm so proud of you for selecting it, Libby!" she gushed, fixing me with a positively glowing smile. I forced one of my own, biting back the resentment that my afternoon would be spent perusing an etiquette book at the behest of the princess.