Two days after the dreadful opera night, and my head and pride still felt like they’d taken a beating.

God, there were so many things to be embarrassed for. One, I’d never gotten so drunk in my life. In fact, before that night I had never truly been drunk.

I hadn't even properly gotten to see Vienna. Mom and Bennett had taken me on a short sightseeing tour the day after and I'd almost thrown up in the Schoenbrunn Tiergarten. By the time we visited St. Stephen's Cathedral, I had a migraine the size of Texas and Mom could see that I was struggling.

Instead of admitting all of the stupid things I'd done the night before, I lied and said it was an episode. It was the first time I'd ever lied so badly to my mother that a little piece of my soul broke off.

For the first time since my life had turned into a fairy tale, I seriously doubted my ability to handle this world of grandeur and power.

The flight back to London is miserable and rainy, with the November chill sending ice through my bones. Kensington Palace looked dreary as the black town car containing myself, Mom and Bennett pulled up to its gates.

What should have been an adventurous mini-vacation, with sightseeing and some time spent with Asher, had gone down hill so quickly because of my stupid actions. I could have embarrassed myself, I could have given the tabloids more fodder. Worse, I could have ruined the event for Mom and Bennett, at a time so crucial for them that it might destroy everything they’d been working for.

But what I did find about the trip, or more what I didn’t notice … was the paparazzi. For the first time since we’d hopped the pond, I hadn’t really been concerned with their shouts or accusations. I noticed myself moving into the buildings we were attending events at, letting their barbs slide off my skin as if it was slicked with oil. Was this what it was like to become fully immersed in the world of the elite? Was I becoming one of them?

And Asher. Oh God, I’d nearly thrown myself at him. If I hadn’t gotten sick, would I have let him take me further than I’d ever been before? It sure had seemed like it, even though my brain was foggy with memory from our alone time upstairs.

I look at the text I sent to Asher over three hours ago, and flop back down onto my bed. After overcoming my anxiety and migraine episode, I was bored and on a Saturday, all I wanted to do was hang out with Asher. It was weird how much my life had changed in the span of six months; From spending no time with anyone to living in a palace and having a love interest.

But he hadn’t answered. In fact, he hadn’t reached out or responded in the two days since we’d been back from Vienna.

Had something else happened that I’d forgotten about? I remember drinking too much and throwing myself at him, us going upstairs to be alone. Asher hadn’t seemed like he’d been upset about anything, in fact I think he was uh … pretty excited to be alone with a horny me.

It’s lame and makes me burn a little with desperation, but I’ve never had this sinking pit in my stomach. Before it was easy, having no one to answer to because I wouldn’t allow anyone close enough to make me feel this way.

But I find that I hate it. Not knowing, wishing he would answer me. Running scenario after scenario in my head about what I could have done wrong and if he was ever going to want to talk to me again.

Jeez, I was pathetic.

Maybe … I took my phone out again from where I’d hidden it between my pillows and brought up a new text message.

I waited only moments before my phone buzzed with a response.

I hadn’t known about that event, nor had Asher told me he was going. Obviously, I couldn’t ask Eloise about it without looking a certain way, and we weren’t close enough yet for me to go to her for that kind of advice. But if he was there, and hadn’t even asked if I was going, what could that mean?

I didn’t know what she meant by her girl, but I wasn’t about to suggest something like eat lunch in the park for fear of her telling me it was so beneath us. Even though I rather enjoy sitting by the pond in Hyde Park watching the ducks …

After Eloise gave me the address and I freshened up a bit, the palace chauffeur took me over to the spa we’d agreed to meet at. And ten minutes after that, I was sitting in a chair next to Eloise in a white fluffy robe while tiny fish ate the dead skin off of my feet.

“This feels so … weird. But oddly relaxing.” I laughed as one of the fish nibbled my instep and tickled me.

“Stick with me, my little American, and you’ll be a princess yet. I’ll buff all of that chav out of you. After this we’re getting facials, and then mud baths, and we’ll finish off with a good blow out.”

The lineup sounded a little more intimidating to me than relaxing, but I trusted Eloise as I watched her down her second mimosa. I had stuck with tea, not wanting anything clouding my judgment after the trip. Looking around at the gleaming white tile floors and white walls, trickling water pouring out of a large fountain covering one wall, I retracted my earlier statement about finally fitting in. Nothing about this spa day felt familiar or par for the course to me; in fact I felt like I was having an out of body experience. There was still some of that Pennsylvania girl left in me.

“So you stayed in Vienna a couple days after me?” I was fishing but if I was nonchalant enough about it, maybe she wouldn’t notice.

Eloise nodded, her blond hair wrapped high in a knot on her head. “I was a third bloody wheel to the Katherine and Drake drama. Whoever thought it would be a good idea for those two to shag should pour hot wax in their mouth.”

I snorted. “That’s a bit extreme.”

“It’s true though, they’re both so unpredictable and insecure, it’s like watching a wonky powder keg about to explode.”

At first, I’m a little shocked she’s talking about her friend that way, but then I remember that everyone in this world are just allies, not friends.

“What about you? Have you dated anyone at Winston?” Girl talk feels strange leaving my lips.

“Psh, absolutely not. High school boys are lame, and all of the ones at Winston are bloody spoiled. I like my men with a little street in them, don’t forget where I came from now.” She winks at me.

Sometimes I do forget we’re cut from the same cloth. “So only bad boys then, huh?”

She smiles a devilish grin. “I suppose yes, but then we both know what that’s like.”

My stomach drops a little. “What do you mean?”

Eloise chuckles as the attendants move us to a different room and offer us more drinks. “Darling, Asher Frederick is just about the only boy I would date at Winston, if he wasn’t such an arsehole. He’s as bad boy as they come for the upper crust crowd, you must know that.”

I suppose I did, but I didn’t like where the conversation was going. “I guess so, but he’s not that way with me.”

“He’s not that way with you, now.”

Her words hit something inside of me, and of course she’s right. How easily I forget what he said and did before I’d softened up to him.

“Listen, I like Asher, he’s the closest thing to a friend I have in this buggered world. But you need to be careful.”

This seemed like more than an unneeded warning, and my skin began to prickle with awareness and dread. “Why is that?”

Eloise studied me before answering. “Listen, I don’t know all of the details, but Asher’s life has been pretty bloody awful. Sure, he’s got money, but his family is … harsh, to put it mildly. He’s got some demons, and I’ve seen him be more calculating and cold than any other person I know. So just, be careful. I like you, new girl. I don’t want to see you crash and burn.”

As the facial person, or esthetician as Eloise corrected me, walked in, my phone buzzed.

After Eloise’s warnings, and two whole days of not hearing from him, I was weary.

But my first inclination was still to say yes.