Before bed that first night, I had one more challenge to overcome. Bertrand.

I was about to slip into some pajamas and hit the hay when there was a knock on my door. I opened it to see Maxwell, bright and chipper as ever. "Hey!" I said, stepping back to let him in.

As he entered, he smiled back at me, "I know it's late," he said, "But there's someone you should meet."

Behind him was a man several years older than Maxwell, stern and frowning. He wore a brown suit and a hideous sweater vest.

"This is the girl you've chosen to represent our house?" the man sneered, stepping into the room and closing the door.

"Yep, nailed it, right?" Maxwell replied. He turned to me and introduced me, "Riley, this is my older brother Bertrand."

"It's nice to meet you B—er, Lord Bertrand?" I guessed at the proper title; he didn't seem quite as informal as Maxwell was about his status.

"The proper way to address a duke is Your Grace."

Damn, I thought. No points for effort, I guess. "Oh," I said, with my best service industry manners. "I'm so sorry, your grace."

He didn't smile, but he did frown a little less. "At least it looks like you can be trained." I almost lost my temper, but he didn't really give me a chance. He turned quickly to Maxwell. "Maxwell, a word with you in private?"

He didn't give Maxwell a chance to answer, either, grabbing his arm and pulling him out to the hall. The door slammed shut behind them. I thought about eavesdropping (which I know, is rude, but since I was pretty sure they were talking about me, I was prepared to make an exception), but figured the door was probably too thick to hear anything, anyway. After a few minutes, they both re-entered the room. I was sitting on my bed, and jumped up as the door flung open.

"I'm not going to pretend to be happy about this situation," Bertrand said fiercely. "But as I have no option-"

"I'm sorry," I said, cutting him off. "But, I don't have to be here. If you don't want me around, then just find yourself another girl!"

"No!" Maxwell said, panicked. He rushed over to me and pulled me back so I was sitting on the bed next to him. "You can't do that. We've already said you were our pick, so if you go now, we've got no one."

"Perhaps Maxwell didn't fully explain this to you," Bertrand added, "But if our house puts forth the Prince's choice, we'll win fame and recognition."

"Something we could really use right now, actually," Maxwell continued, "'cause we're kind of broke." He looked down at his lap, and I threw an arm around his shoulder.

"I didn't know that, I'm sorry, Maxwell!"

"Maxwell!" Bertrand snapped, "You overstep."

"Sorry," he said, still downcast.

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with being broke," I told him. "You're talking to a dive bar waitress, remember? I'm constantly broke."

"It's entirely different for us," said Bertrand.

"Well, yeah," I nodded. "I guess the expectations are a little different. Do you get money if I marry the Prince? Like...a dowry or something?"

"Not directly," was Bertrand's careful reply. "But we can leverage the prestige to great effect. It would be best to get that leverage before others find out our situation. In the circles we run in, if word got out of our financial ruin, it would be a scandal."

I took a deep breath, once again regretting that I was here. Now more than ever, I felt that I was taking advantage of Maxwell and Bertrand. "I do a lot of freelance copywriting online," I said. "I can keep doing that remotely. I brought my laptop. That way I can pay my own way as much as possible."

I could have sworn Bertrand was about to smile, but it never happened. He did say thank you, though.

"But our name is still worth something in Cordonia!" Maxwell piped up, showing me the silver lining. "At the very least, we can introduce you to the right people, get you invitations to the right events." He let his smile fall. "I only wish we could offer you more."

I patted his knee to show him I was appreciative of his sentiment.

"Speaking of the right events," Bertrand said after a brief, awkward silence. "Have you prepared for tomorrow's event?"

My blank face prompted Maxwell to explain, "That's the Derby."

"Like...horse racing?" I asked.

"Fancy horse racing," Maxwell corrected. I grinned at him.

"It will be your first opportunity to make an impression on the press," Bertrand brought us back down to business. "They'll be covering the event. They don't get a lot of opportunities to see the Royals, so they'll jump at this chance. Everyone in Cordonia will be influenced by what the press write about you."

"And that's important," I guessed.

"We're a monarchy," Maxwell explained, "But the crown still serves the people. You'll need their approval if you're going to become queen."

"Speaking of which," Bertrand added, "You should consider your attire for tomorrow. The Queen will be present at the derby, and the right outfit will go a long way to earn her favor. She appreciates modern fashion."

After a few more brief instructions, the brothers Beaumont wished me a good night. I sunk into my ridiculously comfortable bed, but couldn't quite feel settled. I decided to Google "Cordonian Derby Fashion" to get some ideas for the next day. After scrolling for a few hours on Pinterest, I managed to lull myself to sleep.

The next morning, I raced (pun intended, ha ha) to the palace boutique, eager to look for the perfect outfit to impress the queen and the people of Cordonia. My good mood was halted when I saw Olivia, putting the finishing touches on her own ensemble. She was wearing a ruffly turquoise dress with a silly yellow feather headpiece. It looked like Big Bird's butt sticking out of her bun. She feigned a surprised face when she saw me. "Oh, I'm surprised you're still here." She gasped. "I thought you'd have gone home by now." Then, in a more snide tone, "Surely you've realized that you don't have a chance of winning."

"Olivia," I smiled sweetly, "Surely you've realized there's a bird nesting in your hair."

She sneered at me, not at all offended. She turned back to her reflection, preening the feathers a little as she spoke. "That just shows how ignorant you are. The derby is basically a fashion show. Anything less than runway couture and the press will walk right past you." She punctuated her sentence by walking past me out of the boutique.

I rolled my eyes and started looking through the racks. I was determined to find something fashionable, modern, and ten times less gaudy than Olivia's teal-and-yellow nightmare. But, I did remember seeing lots of hats and headpieces as I scrolled through pictures the night before. It took a while, but I finally settled on a modern pencil dress paired with an old-fashioned fascinator (a word I had learned thanks to Wikipedia!). The dress was gorgeous, again playing to my curvy pear-shaped figure. White sleeveless on the top, then at the waist it changed to pink with a large red floral pattern. It fell just above the knee. Very classy, I thought to myself. I had to have Maxwell help me figure out the black and white fascinator in the limo, but it ended up looking nice paired with my black heels and pearl bracelet.

As Maxwell was helping me with my fascinator and hair, Bertrand reviewed my objectives for the day. "...And for the love of King and country, if they ask you anything about Cordonian apples, take the question seriously...are you listening to me?" he snapped his fingers in front of my face and Maxwell sat back, done fiddling with my hair.

"Yes, apples. I've got it." I remembered reading about apples in one of my books. "They're a big export here, right?"

Bertrand looked pleasantly surprised. "That's right. As well as being the country's top export, the Cordonian Ruby is our national fruit."

"Nice, Ri!" Maxwell said, pumping his fist in the air. Bertrand shot him a look, and he settled down a bit. "How are you feeling?" he asked me more seriously.

"I'm...nervous."

"I'm sure you'll do great."

"Let's not let overconfidence be our downfall," Bertrand said. He continued giving me instructions the rest of the way to Honeyhill Downs. At last, the limo stopped.

"Don't forget," Maxwell said, "Smile for the cameras! And after you're done talking with the press, find the pink tents; that's where the suitors are all watching the races."

"You guys aren't coming with me?" I asked, my eyes wide.

"We don't need to be interviewed," Bertrand said matter-of-factly. He ushered me out of the limo door, and suddenly, I was alone. On an actual red carpet. With about a half dozen cameras pointed at me. I smiled and posed, then started walking slowly, unsure of myself. I was stopped by a reporter before I had taken two steps. I took a deep breath as I listened to him.

"Donnie Brine from the Cordonian Broadcasting Center. We've heard about the new lady on the social scene. What's your name?"

Easy question to start, I thought, You've got this. "Lady Riley Harkness, representing House Beaumont."

"Our viewers care about getting the real story. Tell us about yourself."

Bertrand had encouraged me to have a ten-second sound-byte explaining my story, and now I was grateful he did. "I'm just a regular woman, like many of your viewers. I was a waitress in New York whose heart has led her here, caught up in the affairs of Cordonia's nobility."

"And how's that going for you?"

"I'm absolutely enchanted by Cordonia and her people."

"I've heard early rumors that you're Prince Liam's favorite. What do you think makes you stand out?"

I blushed and looked down for a moment before composing myself. "Liam was first drawn to me because I offered him a unique world view, one that he felt was lacking in his life. We bonded over the Statue of Liberty, and all she means, not just for Americans, but for people all over the world."

"An interesting angle, for sure," the reporter mumbled, more to himself than the camera. "Thank you for your time, Lady Riley. Before you go, can we get a photo?"

"Of course," I smiled, and struck a pose. My sister was a photographer, and I could never thank her enough for teaching me the perfect, easy pose. One foot in front of the other, front hand on hip, back arm reaching across the stomach to rest one hand on the other. Shoulders back, chin up, and smile.

The flash went off, and the reporter thanked me again, then let me continue down the runway. Just as I passed him, I could hear him murmuring to himself as he wrote notes down. I was pretty sure I caught him calling me the "Everywoman," and I hoped that was a good thing.

A few more steps down, a woman in a fancy pants suit stopped me and held out a microphone. "Lady Riley," she said. "Ana de Luca here on behalf of Trend magazine." My eyes widened slightly; I had heard of Trend before – that was big-time! I quickly composed myself as she continued. "To get right to it, Lady Riley, as an outsider, what do you think of Cordonia?"

"It's one of the most beautiful and unique places I've ever had the privilege of visiting. It's full of charm and history."

"The people will be happy to hear it. Now, if you marry Prince Liam, you'll be our next queen. As a commoner and an American, what makes you qualified to rule Cordonia?"

Ouch. I was grateful for all the preparation Bertrand had given me, because once again I was ready with a pre-written sound-byte. "While I do have a unique background among the suitors, there are qualities I have which cannot be taught by private tutors or courtly training. I am loyal, composed, and empathetic, to name a few."

"A wonderful answer, thank you. One last question. Hypothetically, how would you handle the news about low crop yields from the Cordonian apple orchards?" The reporter's smile made me realize she was working hard to trip me up. I smiled right back, knowing she was in for a surprise.

"Obviously I would treat it with the gravity it deserved. My first act would be to comfort the Cordonian people, and to assure them that the crown understands the importance of the apple crop for the people of Cordonia. Then, of course, we could get to work with finding solutions to the problem."

Ana De Luca seemed surprised, but she smiled broadly, as if she was pleased to be proven wrong about me. "Thank you so much for your time, Lady Riley. We are all looking forward to seeing how you fare during the social season."

I thanked her and continued down the line. I was stopped a few more times, but after Ana, the rest of the reporters seemed much easier. Finally I had given my last statement and smiled for the last camera, and I found myself alone at the edge of the Downs arena. Where am I supposed to go now? I wondered. Maxwell mentioned pink tents, but I didn't see any such thing. I searched the stands and the rest of the area for a familiar face as I walked along the edge of the field. I was trying to look casual while also scouting the grounds for my proper place. Before I realized it, I was in a stable!

"Anyone human in here?" I called out, hoping to find someone that I could ask for directions. But just then, a gust of wind blew the stable door shut behind me, and a nearby horse whinnied, startled. He broke free from his stall and came barreling towards me. This was a racehorse, so I didn't really have a lot of time to think about what to do. It all happened so fast. But, I maintain that I would have thought of something, if Drake hadn't darted in between me and the horse just then.

"Woah there," Drake said, pulling the horse's reign and stopping it in its tracks. "Woah. There you go," he continued, his voice more soft than I had ever heard it. He pulled its mane to guide its head down, then looked it right in the eyes. "Nothing to worry about, big fella'. I'll get this girl outta your way for you." The horse whinnied and snorted its nose, but seemed calm and relaxed. Drake gently guided it back into its stall and made sure the gate was locked. He turned to me, still frozen in my place by the entrance. "You okay, Riley?" He asked.

"Y-" I stammered for a second before shaking off the encounter. "Yeah. Thank you! You saved me!"

"Really?" He said with a hint of a wry smile. "I thought I was saving the horse. These derby runners are like athletes. Can't risk injury tripping over a stray human."

I stepped forward and swatted his shoulder. "Gee, thanks." In spite of myself, I couldn't help smiling. This was the first time I had seen Drake without anyone else around. He was kind of funny, in a mean sarcastic way. Which was typically the sort of person I liked best.

"What are you even doing here?" I asked him.

He ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair. "I, uh...look, the truth is, Liam asked me to keep an eye on you."

"He did?"

"Yeah, to make sure you didn't end up in the wrong place...exactly like now."

My face flushed with embarrassment, and I felt the redness in my ears. "He asked you to look after me?"

"Yeah, good thing I followed his instructions, huh?" Drake said, either blind to my anger, or deliberately ignoring it. "Speaking of which, you should get back to the racetrack and your adoring fans."

My embarrassment left me, since I knew he was right. I deflated, and I could feel my face returning to its normal color. "I would love to, but I'm lost. Maxwell told me to look for the pink tents, but..." I trailed off.

Drake shook his head. "He told you wrong." I perked up a little; maybe this whole thing wasn't just me being stupid. Drake continued. "You're looking for the white tents next to the starting line. You can't miss 'em. Good luck!" He turned to leave, but I called out, stopping him.

"Wait, you're not coming with me?"

He momentarily looked horrified. "I'm not stepping into that hornet's nest!" He shook his head and smiled, then, continuing, "I'm meeting Liam at his private tent. We always hang out there and get some drinks, watch the ceremonies, place our bets on the horses. It's pretty sweet."

"Um, that sounds way better than sitting around with all those proper ladies," I said. I skipped up to where Drake stood in the doorway. "I'll come with you."

Drake looked at me like I had just said I was going to the moon. "What? Uh...I don't think you're supposed to."

I gave him a look that said, Try me. "What are they gonna do? Put me in Princess Jail? Serve me last at tea?"

He shook his head, but I could tell he was hiding a smile. He didn't say anything, just turned and started walking. I had to jog to keep up with him, but he let me follow him the whole way. Finally, he stopped in front of an enclosed tent around the middle of the track. He nodded to it, but didn't enter. "I'll go get us some beer," he said. He didn't wait for my response before taking off, but I waited until he was out of sight before I entered the tent. I watched him walk away, wondering what he thought of me. Maybe I would be like one of the guys? I could handle that. Finally, I opened the canvas flap and walked into the tent, where Liam was alone.

He was standing with his back to me, leaning against the railing, overlook the track. I thought for a moment about how to announce myself, and decided to play it cool. I ambled up to the railing and stood next to him. "Nice day for a race," I said, and almost laughed as he jumped in alarm. He turned to me, and his alarm quickly turned into a huge smile.

"Lady Riley!" he said.

"I'm sorry, did I interrupt your thoughts?" I said innocently.

"Well," he rubbed the back of his neck. "Sort of. But, I was..." he blushed. "I was actually just thinking of you."

"Really?" It was my turn to blush.

"Just wondering where you were in the stands."

"Well, now you know." I smiled up at him, and he looked down at me with fondness in his eyes.

"How did you manage it?" he asked.

"As much as I'd love to impress you with my daring feats of rebelliousness," I said, letting myself fall backwards, hanging onto the railing to catch my weight. "Drake let me in."

Liam smiled and turned to face me, his back against the railing. "He's never been one to follow the rules. Which is probably why he's my best friend. I'm lucky you caught him."

"Well," I said, taking a step back. My irritation from earlier had come back. "Luck wasn't all there was to it," I said. Liam looked at me, confused. "He said you had asked him to follow me."

Liam looked sheepish. "I just wanted to make sure you were being taken care of."

I nodded, but didn't give in to his adorable puppy dog face. "Thank you. But, I can take care of myself."

Liam pulled me upright, taking my hand in his and drawing me towards him. He put one of his hands against my cheek and looked deeply at me. I was still red, but now it was a blush rather than ire. "Riley," he said, "I believe you. You are extraordinary." I didn't know what to say, so I just kept silent. Liam continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just can't help looking after people I care about."

I finally gave in and offered him a small smile, which he returned in even greater measure. I thought about reaching up to kiss him, but just at that moment, Drake entered the tent. Liam jumped back from me.

"The race is just about to start," he said, looking out at the track again.

"Don't let me interrupt," Drake said with a hint of humor in his voice.

I rolled my eyes. Too late, I thought, but to him I just said, "Don't be stupid. Come on in." He handed a cup of beer to Liam and one to me and joined us at the railing.

We all watched the horses for a few minutes before settling into our seats. For the next few races, we all talked and laughed like we were old friends. Which, I guess, for Liam and Drake was true. But I felt like I had known them both for years. It was the first time since being in Cordonia that I felt really relaxed. After about an hour, the last race was about to start.

"I'm thinking Twilight Dream takes the crown," Liam announced.

"That's not a bad prediction," Drake said, "But I've been studying the stats. My money's on Marabelle's Dream."

Liam raised an eyebrow with a cocky smile. "You wanna bet on that?"

"Sure," Drake shrugged. "The usual?"

I watched the exchange with a mixture of confusion and interest. "What's the usual?" I asked.

"Ever since Drake and I were kids," Liam explained, "We always bet each other push-ups." I nodded appreciatively.

"Not just any push-ups," Drake clarified.

"Push-ups while the other person sits on your back," Liam finished. My eyebrows shot up. I didn't even know that was possible. But it was definitely I was something I wanted to see. Especially from Liam. Although, if I was being honest with myself, watching Drake wouldn't be so bad either.

To keep from blushing, I had to speak quickly. "That's adorable," I said. Yes, infantalizing it was better than admitting how hot I thought it was.

"It's not adorable!" Drake protested, clearly offended. "It's...rugged. And manly." He squared his shoulders.

"Yes," Liam agreed, "Very tough, I'd say." He turned to Drake. "So do we have a bet?"

"You're on."

Liam looked at me, then back at Drake. "Except," he said, "Perhaps with one change to the usual. I think we'd be incredibly rude to leave out Riley. Maybe she should be the one to sit on the loser's back?"

I practically choked on my beer, and Drake laughed. I sat back in my chair, thinking about it for a second, before saying, "You know? I think I might have to pass."

"Oh?" Liam asked, surprised.

"Why?" Drake asked.

I decided to quote one of my favorite books. "In the words of Mr. Darcy… 'I can admire you better from here.'"

Both men laughed, and then the race started and we all turned to watch the track intently. It was an exciting race, with both Twilight Dash and Maribelle's Dream taking turns in the lead. But in the end…

"There goes Marabelle!" Drake laughed as his horse came in first place. "I knew it!"

I looked at Liam and shrugged. "Look on the bright side," I said.

"And what's that?"

"Now you get to show off for me." I grinned, and he mirrored me as he stood up. My smile faded as I watched him remove his shirt. Pick that jaw up, girl, I chided myself.

"Don't want to get my clothes sweaty," Liam explained, though the smile on his face told me he was a dirty rotten liar.

"Enough flirting," Drake said, "Push-up time." Liam dropped to the ground, hands in place to do a push-up, and Drake sat cross-legged on his back. I shook my head in disbelief as I watched the Prince of Cordonia do ten push-ups.

"Holy...smokes," I said, clapping as Drake stood to let Liam up. "Color me impressed."

"Never let it be said that I backed out of a bet," Liam said as he put his shirt and blazer back on.

"And he loses all the time, so that's really saying something," Drake said, elbowing me in the ribs with a wink. A wink? I thought to myself, How much has Drake had to drink?

"I must have done something very wrong at some point," Liam was saying, "To have you as my best friend."

"I think it's part of my job to keep you humble," Drake countered. "Hard to do with all these gorgeous women chasing after you."

Liam sighed. "Speaking of which," he turned to me. "Now that the races are over, it's probably time to get back to the social barrage. Next up is the lawn picnic."

"I guess that means I should get back to where the girls are. Maxwell and Bertrand are probably looking for me." I tried not to pout, but I was really not looking forward to re-joining that hoard of gorgeous women Drake was talking about.

Drake noticed my face, or maybe Liam's equally desultory one, because he let out a huge sigh and offered to go find the Beaumont brothers for me. More to give me and Liam a moment alone than anything, I was guessing.

As Drake stepped away, Liam turned to me. "Thank you for coming here, Riley. I'm not exaggerating when I say that you made my day."

"You made mine too." I couldn't help thinking about the first time we kissed, partly because of how close we were, but also because of how I had barely stopped thinking of it since it happened. "How about a goodbye kiss?" I asked.

Liam glanced around, but since the tent door was still closed, he stepped even closer to me, wrapping an arm around my waist. He bent down and caught my lips in a quick but sweet kiss. "Okay," I said when we parted, "Now you've made my day."

He laughed and let me go. Just in time, too, because Drake reappeared in the entry. "Ahem," he said, clearing his throat as if he needed to announce himself. "I just saw Maxwell bring the car around. The ladies are a few tents down, and they're headed to the lawn picnic. I can show Riley over there."

"Thanks, Drake." I said, walking past him as he held the flap of the tent open for me. With one last glance back at Liam, we made our way quickly to the other suitors. "Thanks," I said again as we walked.

"You said that already," he said.

"I mean, thanks for everything today."

"I may act like a jerk sometimes," he shrugged, "But I'd have to be a real lowlife to let a girl get trampled by a horse."

I laughed. "Well, thanks anyway. And thank you for letting me crash your time with Liam."

Drake looked at me thoughtfully for a minute before saying, "It was actually pretty fun." Just then, we reached the suitors, and Drake disappeared before I could even say goodbye.

As I walked up, I heard Olivia complaining that they hadn't been able to see the Prince at all, and it took all my willpower not to shove it in her face where I had been. Especially when she caught sight of me and sneered, "Look who finally showed up. Fashionably late has its limits, you know."

Hana looked at me sweetly. "Riley, I was worried about you! What happened?"

If it had just been Hana, maybe I would have shared the whole story, but with everyone else around, I just said, "I...kind of got lost."

Some of the ladies tutted and gave me sympathetic (or condescending) looks, but Hana gave me an encouraging pat on the arm. "I know it can be overwhelming," she said, "How the press swarmed us all when we arrived..." she gave me a shy smile.

I returned her smile and asked her how she handled it. She gave me a few tidbits from her courtly training, but soon I saw the Beaumont's limo and had to excuse myself. "I guess I'll see you at the picnic?" I said, and Hana nodded excitedly.

"We're going to meet the Queen!"