Neither of them argue with me once I decline the invitation.

I end up heating a frozen pizza, ignoring the glances from the agents who heard me beg off from dinner. I go to bed early and am grateful I fall asleep quickly.

The sunrise wakes me early the following morning. I slip out of the silent house and go for a long run before I stop and sit on the beach to stare at the crashing waves. The rhythmic battering against the sand is comforting. Despite everything that’s so drastically different in my life from the one and only other time I’ve been here, the aquamarine ocean still looks exactly the same.

Eventually, I head back inside to eat breakfast and shower, ignoring my parents’ puzzled looks.

I’m sitting on the deck reading when my father comes outside.

“Hi, Papa,” I greet him, glancing up from the book.

He’s scrutinizing me closely, the skin between his eyebrows creased.

“I’m sorry if I’ve ruined the trip,” I apologize. “I know you were just trying to do something nice for me. It’s just…” I falter. “It’s just difficult being back here. This country represents some things I’ll never get back, and it’s challenging to be here again, as Princess Vivienne.”

My father nods slowly. “I should have consulted you first before changing our destination. Charles was certain coming here is what you would prefer…”

“I may have led him to believe my reluctance to get engaged is because I’m having trouble readjusting to being back in Marcedenia,” I admit.

“And it’s not?”

“Not entirely.” I waver on how much I should reveal.

“Is that why you didn’t want to stay there?”

“Yes,” I lie.

My mother appears in the open doorway. “The Vanderbilts are here,” she tells us.

“I didn’t think we were seeing them until dinner?” my father questions.

“Lionel called, said he’s set up some sort of surprise outing.”

“Where?” I ask.

“He didn’t say. Hurry up now. You’ve caused enough problems this weekend.” My mother sends me a pointed look that makes it clear all is far from forgiven when it comes to my recent behavior.

I sigh, but rise out of the chair and smooth the wrinkles in my navy sundress before I follow her outside to where three black cars loiter. Charles waves to me out the window of the first one, and I smile back, resolving to be friendlier to him today.

My parents settle into the middle car and I climb inside the last one, settling against the cool leather with a deep sigh. I wonder what type of outing Lionel planned as we drive along the quiet street. I’ve narrowed it down to a garden tour or a sailing trip when a massive structure looms up ahead, surrounded by thousands of cars.

My stomach drops.

“Where are we going?” I ask the agents traveling with me, trying to keep my voice neutral.

“I’m not sure. It looks like some sort of sports complex,” one replies.