The carriage rolled to a stop just outside the massive wrought-iron gates, waking me from one of the many naps I'd taken as the countryside rolled away to be replaced by cottages, then city streets. "State your name and business," a bored sounding guard drawled from the guardhouse. "Miss Elizabeth Marks-Whelan for Lady Eleanor Canterbury," Jonas said. The guard grunted something and the huge gates creaked open. Jonas urged the horses forward and we lurched through the heavy grey-stone archway onto the palace grounds. Heedless of appearances, I hung out the carriage window, leaning as far out as I dared to take in the sprawling grounds around us. Manicured lawns stretched for acres until the massive stone wall cut them off, encircling the palace grounds. The palace itself was a graceful hulk of a building with more windows than I could count. There seemed to be two sections, the first being the rather square five-storey front building. Behind that was a massive tower, the spires of which I'd been able to see all the way at the edge of the city, surrounded by various smaller towers and turrets. The road arced through the grounds, finally straightening out into a tree-lined path wide enough for two carriages. A tall fountain dominated the area in front of the doors, a series of carriage blocks in a semi-circle adjacent to the carriageway. I craned my neck, trying to peer over the thick hedges that rose in a graceful slope around the road, hiding the rest of the grounds from view. Two footmen and a maid had hastily assembled themselves by the center carriage block as Jonas pulled up to it. The maid, a woman whose grey hair and stiff posture spoke to decades in service, had difficulty masking her scandalized expression. No doubt my hanging out the carriage window like a ruffian had unnecessarily ruffled her sensible feathers. "Miss Marks-Whelan," the most senior footman said, clearing his throat as he waited for me to back into the carriage so he could open the door without pulling me out with it. I ducked back inside and he tugged the door open, stationing himself beside it, a hand outstretched to help me onto the carriage block. Either he was far less sensitive to my antics, or he had a better talent at hiding it, because I ignored his hand and tumbled out the carriage, spinning in a circle to take it all in. "Oh Jonas, this is glorious!" I almost shouted, my hands clasped together as my eyes raced to drink it all in. The maid was unabashed now about fixing me with a scandalized stare. I shot her a cheeky grin and dashed up the steps, rightly assuming that she was cut from the same fussy old cloth as Miss Halpern. "Miss!" she protested, hurrying as fast as she could after me. The second footman took the stairs two at a time to beat me to the door, opening it with a curious glance my way. He was much younger than the first footman and his curiosity was evidence that I was clearly his first encounter with a lady who wasn't much of a lady. I was unashamed of my wide-eyed appreciation of the palace, poking my head through the door to inspect the shining marble-floored entryway before a stern cluck from behind me snapped me out of my reverie. "Miss Marks-Whelan," the maid said, drawing herself up to her full height in an attempt to convey authority, "Lady Canterbury and her other ladies in waiting are currently taking tea with the queen. I will see you to your room," Her tone left no doubt about the fact I was to stay there. "Can you show me around the gardens?" I asked, dashing back outside to stare at the grounds. From this angle, I could see a smattering of brightly colored parasols across the lawn, somewhat obscured by the thick green hedge, while the soft sounds of music drifted on the breeze. As I was straining to see, I felt a sharp tug on my sleeve. "That is quite enough!" the maid hissed, all but dragging me back inside. I pulled my arm back from her, massaging it. "No need to be so brusque about it," I protested, shooting a glance back to where Jonas was helping the first footman unload my trunks. The second footman hadn't moved, but his expression was markedly more amused as he closed the door behind me. "Thank you Jonas!" I shouted just before the door clanged shut. The maid made a disgusted sound deep in her throat. "As I'm sure you already know, shouting in the palace is strictly forbidden," she managed. I took pleasure in the puce shade of her face. "But how else can you hear the echo!" I shouted, relishing the sound as it bounced off the marble floors. A pair of staircases flanked either side of the room, rich red carpeting running up along gleaming oak banisters. They seemed almost as steep as the great hall at home and I found myself wondering how satisfying it would feel to slide down one of them. "Miss Marks-Whelan your behaviour is utterly appalling!" the maid sputtered, brandishing an angry finger in my face. I watched in amusement as it waggled back and forth in front of me. "Thank you for noticing," I smiled, dipping a perfect curtsey. One did not fail out of every finishing school in the country without learning a thing or two about the proper way to behave. Her brows knit together in a frown as I rose, clearly flummoxed by my abrupt change from ruffian to lady. I clasped my hands demurely in front of me, staring down at my reflection in the beige and brown marble. "I believe you were showing me to my room," I said, lifting my eyes with a practiced look of innocence. I fought to keep the grin off my face at her completely baffled expression. "Y-yes, miss...right this way," she managed, giving her head a little shake as she gestured for me to follow her. She made her way up the stairs and I took the opportunity to run my hand along the banister, relishing the sleekly polished wood. I ran my eyes up and down the length of it, deciding that before my time here was through and even though it would likely get me kicked out, I would make a point of sliding along it. "You will find the debutante suites in the east and west wings," the maid explained, "Lady Canterbury is in the west wing, on the south side. You all share a sitting room at the end of the hall." She gestured towards a pair of hallways that led away from the gallery running along either side of the entrance hall's second floor. "You are expected to remain there or in your rooms at all times unless invited to another activity by a member of the royal family. As I had mentioned before," she cleared her throat, clearly still unimpressed by my earlier antics, "The debutantes are all out taking their tea with the queen in the East Rose Garden. They should be back shortly before dinner to change. Your dinners take place during royal functions and balls on most days, except when indicated otherwise. Your ladies' maids will inform you of your schedule each morning," We paused in front of the third door along the hallway. Opposite the door was a heavily draped window looking out along the sprawling lawns, the last of the afternoon light cutting angular patterns cross the shining wood floors. I bounced on the balls of my feet, giving the maid a hopeful look as I nodded my head towards the window. "You shall await Lady Canterbury in her suite," the maid sniffed, gesturing to the door. With a sigh, I slumped my shoulders and pushed the door open. The maid shut it briskly behind me. I had entered what must have been the sitting room. There was a sofa and a pair of lounge chairs around a low table, centered on an opulant grey, blue, and gold floral rug. The west wall held a fireplace that no doubt saw little use during the summer months. The back wall had more tall windows like those in the halls, these ones draped with dark blue velvet curtains to match the cool colors of the room decor. Outside, there was a small courtyard between our wing and the northern wing, a similar row of windows along that second floor as well. Small side tables held vases of all kinds of flowers, perfuming the room with the delicate scent of lilies and roses. A vanity sat next to the fireplace on the west wall, next to a door that led to one of the bedchambers. Looking around and hearing no one, I made my way to the door, pushing it open. The next room held a canopied bed, the dark wood frame contrasting nicely with the rich blue of the comforter and canopy. There was another vanity, this one littered with perfume, powder and combs. I was about to enter when I heard noises coming from a set of wide double doors on the east wall of the sitting room. There was a boom and a thunk, so I hurried over to investigate. I opened the double doors just in time to see a liveried foot disappear behind one of the heavy blue wall drapes. My trunk had been deposited at the foot of one of three single sized beds in this room. There was again a single vanity, this one much more cluttered than the one in the other bedroom. A single window lit the room from the north wall and there was an open door on the south wall, racks of hanging dresses peeking out from the shadows. Curious as to where the servant who had deposited my trunk had disappeared to, I approached the drape on the east wall, pushing it aside. A small door was set back in the wall, short enough that I would almost have to stoop to enter it. I tried the handle, but the door appeared to be locked. I jiggled it some more and finally noticed a tiny keyhole beneath it. I frowned, wondering why they felt the need to lock the service doors, when there was a rustle of soft voices from the sitting room. ****