Darrel woke up the following morning and headed downstairs, bumping into Rosamund.
"Sorry Aunt Rosamund!" Darrel cried.
       "Oh no worries Dear," her aunt nodded, "where are you off to in such a rush?"
"I have an errand to run before I return to The Palace."
        "Are you ready for the ball?"
        "Not at all," Darrel groaned, "it's going to be awful!"
        "I'm sure you're exaggerating," Rosamund shrugged.
        "I assure you that I'm not."
        Rosamund rolled her eyes, but was unwilling to argue with her stubborn niece.
        "Can I borrow the car?" Darrel requested.
        "Of course," Rosamund replied, "I'll have it come once we're finished with breakfast."
        "No time for breakfast. I need to go."
        "But..."
        "Thank you for the hospitality Aunt Rosamund, goodbye!" Darrel said hastily before running out the front door.
        Rosamund couldn't help but laugh at her niece's attitude. As a child, Darrel always rushed from place to place; without ever explaining herself. It was nice to see her act like a child once more.

        A little later, Darrel arrived at Grantham House and rang the doorbell. The front door swung open and she came face-to-face with Thomas.
        "Your highness," he bowed.
        "Never call me that again," Darrel smirked, stepping into the house.
        "As you wish m'lady."
        "Where's the Dowager Countess?"
        "Her Ladyship is in the dining room with the rest of the family having breakfast."
       "Thank you Mr. Barrow."
        Darrel turned to head to the dining room when Thomas called out to her.
        "Happy birthday. And good luck at the ball tonight...m'lady," he nodded.
        "Thanks Tommy," Darrel smirked.
        Thomas gave her a bow then lead the way to the dining room.
        "Her Royal Highness, Darrel Crawley," Thomas announced, opening the door.
        "Thank you Barrow, but I think I know who my sister is without the announcement," Mary replied, rolling her eyes. "Especially with it being her birthday."
        "I thought it was rather funny," Tom shrugged.
        "Here, here," Darrel nodded.
        "Happy birthday. Come, sit Darling," Robert requested, "have something to eat."
        "I would love to, but I don't have the time. I need to be at the Palace by now."
        "Then what are you doing here?"
        "I need to speak to Granny."
        Everyone's heads turned to face the Dowager Countess, who simply shrugged.
        "What do you need from me Dear?" Violet inquired.
        "I need a quick word with you...in private," Darrel requested.
        "Oh very well."
        Violet stood up and followed Darrel out of the dining room.
        "Heavens, what's that all about?" Mary wondered.
        "I haven't the faintest idea," Isobel replied.

        "What is so urgent?" Violet sighed, entering the library.
        Darrel closed the door behind them before turning to face her grandmother.
        "I know you sent Paul to Spain," Darrel informed.
        "He told you this?" Violet assumed.
        "I guessed. Paul's jealousy gets out of control sometimes, but he isn't clever enough to decide on his own to go to Spain. You sent him to find dirt on Sebastian."
        "Well, I always knew you were the smartest amongst your sisters."
        Darrel rolled her eyes.
        "You had no right to do any of this!" Darrel exclaimed. "You have no right to know about Sebastian's past, and Paul could've been arrested."
        "Well, he wasn't, and he was willing to go," Violet explained.
        "You knew he would never had said no. He's in love with me, hates Sebastian and he fears you."
        "I know you're upset with me Darrel. But, I did this for your own good."
        "My own good?! It was a terrible plan. It was poorly executed and pointless. Why on Earth would you do something like this?"
        "Watch how you speak to me young lady," Violet said sternly.
        Darrel bit her lip and stared directly into the Dowager's eyes.
        "I can speak to you in whichever way I like," she reminded, "for I'm the Princess of Wales."
        "See?" Violet exclaimed, "Their majesties have changed you, for the worse!"
        "I am simply reminding you that you weren't acting as a caring grandmother when you sent Paul to Spain. You were interfering with your future queen's life, as well as the Prince of Spain's."
        "I care about you Darrel. I will not apologize for looking out for my granddaughter."
        "Well then it's good that I'm not looking for an apology," Darrel snapped.
        "Then why are you here?" Violet demanded.
        "To give you a direct order, as the Princess of Wales, to stop meddling in my affairs."
        Violet gave a small nod, "Fine."
        "Good day Granny," Darrel replied.
        As Darrel left the room, Violet was, for the first time ever, speechless.

        "Where to Your Highness?" Rosamund's driver asked.
        "Buckingham Palace please," Darrel nodded, wiping a tear away from her cheek.
        "Of course ma'am."
        Darrel turned to stare out of the window for the rest of the ride. She could not believe how she had spoken to her grandmother. She forced the woman she'd respected (and at times feared), since she was an infant to listen to her. Darrel was unable to wrap her head around the concept that when she gave an order, people had to listen. She was never one to care for titles, or other people controlling others' lives. The idea of Darrel holding so much power was too much for her to take.

        When Darrel returned to the Palace, she raced up the stairs to get to her room before their majesties found her in her current state. Suddenly, she bumped into a footman, causing him to drop the silverware that he was carrying.
        "I am so sorry!" Darrel cried, bending down to help him, "I wasn't looking where I was going."
        "No worries your highness," he assured.
        Darrel placed the silverware back onto his tray. She straightened to look at him. He was a young man, around 20, if not younger. He had wavy blonde hair and dark brown eyes, which were averted due to embarrassment.
        "Are you alright ma'am?" He asked, finally looking at her.
        Unable to tell a flat-out lie, Darrel chose to bite her lip as a tear rolled down her cheek, which she wiped away.
        "I'm sorry ma'am, I've upset you," the footman said.
        "No, it's not your fault," Darrel assured, "you were being kind."
        "I shouldn't have said anything. Mr. Wilson always tells us to not speak to anyone in the family...or anyone apart from the staff."
        "Well, I don't agree with him. We see each other every day, and you all work nonstop to assist us. Why shouldn't you speak to us?"
        "It's not proper ma'am, and it should be good enough for us to be in the same room as you."
        Darrel snorted.
        "Are you laughing at me ma'am?" He asked.
        "No, of course not," Darrel nodded, "I'm laughing because Mr. Wilson is very wrong. We're all people at the end of the day."
        "I suppose so."
        "I'm sorry, I didn't ask for your name."
        "Francis...ma'am."
        "Well, it was very nice to meet you Francis. I'm sure we'll see more of each other in the future?"
        "Yes ma'am," he responded, "I've been a hall boy for many years and I was promoted to footman last week."
        "Congratulations," Darrel smiled, "and good luck."
        "Thank you ma'am."
        Darrel extended her hand, and the very shocked Francis shook it gingerly. From the corner of her eye, Darrel saw Wilson rounding the corner and quickly pretended that she had fallen.
        "Your highness!" Wilson exclaimed, running up to them, "Are you alright?"
        "Of course," Darrel nodded, as she used Francis' arm to pull herself back up, "I wasn't looking where I was going."
        "Should I send for a doctor ma'am?"
        "No need. All is well."
        "Very good ma'am."
        Darrel nodded to Wilson and Francis then proceeded up the stairs towards her bedroom.
        "That silverware looks scratched," Wilson observed.
        "I dropped the tray when I was helping Her Highness up," Francis lied.
        "Very well...that's not your fault then. Go get it fixed at once."
        "Yes Mr. Wilson."
        Francis hurried down the stairs and towards the servants' stairwell.

        Darrel walked along the family corridor, hoping to find Sebastian to get him to ease her mind about the ball. Instead, she found Camila looking out the window into the gardens.
        "Your highness," Camila curtsied as the princess approached.
        "Lady Camila," Darrel nodded.
        "Are you ready for your ball?"
        "Not at all. I was hoping to find Sebastian to help ease my mind."
        "He's gone riding with the Duke of York."
        "I see..."
        Darrel let out a heavy sigh and turned to look out the window as well.
        "I know I'm not Sebastian, but if you'd like to talk to someone...I can listen," Camila offered.
        "I may take you up on that offer," Darrel smiled, "let's go into my sitting room. I'll ring for some tea."
        Camila nodded and followed the princess towards the sitting room.

        "So, how are you enjoying England?" Darrel inquired, as she rung the bell in her sitting room.
        "Well, I haven't seen much of it," Camila shrugged. "But, I like what I've seen."
        "You're welcome to come back anytime."
        "Thank you."
        The two girls went to sit and eyed each other awkwardly.
        "So...you're worried about your ball?" Camila asked.
        "Very worried," Darrel nodded, "it's my first public appearance as the Princess of Wales. I know everyone's going to be judging me, and I don't want to mess up."
        "Don't put so much pressure on yourself. Be yourself, and everyone's going to love you."
        Darrel gave her a shy smile as the door opened and a footman entered, giving them a bow.
        "Your highness, m'lady," he greeted.
        "Could we have some tea please?" Darrel requested.
        "Of course ma'am."
        He bowed again and left the room, shutting the door behind him.
        "I shall never get used to the formalities," Darrel groaned.
        "I must say, you seem to be settling in well," Camila observed.
        "I most certainly am not."
        "You're already having a ball. You haven't known about you position for very long. If it were me, I would have put up a fight..."
        "I knew this was inevitable. Besides, this is my duty; to my birth family, and to this country."
        "I admire that," Camila informed.
        "Pardon me?" Darrel replied.
        "How loyal you are to your family. You're putting your family's image, and your duty before your own happiness."
        "Weren't you the same? You would've married Sebastian had he not offered to break up with you."
        Camila shook her head as she looked down at the floor with shame.
        "I don't know what Bass told you, but I begged him to break up with me," she sighed.
        "What?" Darrel exclaimed.
        "I couldn't fake it. I obviously didn't want to upset my mother, but I couldn't do it. I knew I'd be miserable for the rest of my life if I had gone through with it. I was too cowardly to go through with it."
        Darrel was about to respond when the footman returned with the tea. He set the tray on the table and poured the tea for them.
        "Can I get Her Highness anything else?" He inquired.
        "No, thank you," Darrel smiled.
        "Ma'am."
        He sunk into a bow and left, as Darrel rolled her eyes (making sure he didn't see it), which caused Camila to laugh.
        "Well, I think you're wrong," Darrel continued. "You say you are a coward for asking Sebastian to end things, but it shows strength."
        "I disagree," Camila shrugged, "I went against my mother's wishes, and I made Sebastian look disloyal."
        "Firstly, nobody knew about your engagement until...well nobody knew. Secondly, you were able to put yourself before others. That's much harder than following the path someone else has laid out for you. If anything, I am the coward for allowing myself to be their Majesties' puppet. I admire your bravery."
        "Thank you."
        The two girls smiled at each other. They didn't say anything for a few minutes, they simply looked at each other with a feeling of mutual respect. Each girl possessed what the other girl yearned for; the courage to be selfish, and the courage to be selfless.
        "Well, I better go," Darrel informed, as she glanced at the clock, "I best be getting ready for the ball."
        "Of course," Camila nodded, as they stood, "good luck. I know you'll be amazing."
        "Thanks. Have a good time tonight. I'm sure you'll have more fun than me."
        Camila gave her a smirk.
        "Could we keep in touch?" Camila requested, "After I return to Spain?"
        "I would love to," Darrel smiled.
        The two young women embraced then went their separate ways.