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"I can't go." Daphne's expression was one of sincere apology, but Ian couldn't believe his ears.

"What?" he asked.

"We're going to the Queen's garden party." Ian's eyes widened when these words that stabbed him in the heart slipped out of Daphne's mouth. She was passing up a Strokes concert to go to a garden party? Who was this imposter? Freethinking, beautifully independent Daphne had morphed into exactly what was expected of her: a conformational debutante.

"What?" he asked again, quite in shock.

"I'm sorry I forgot to call you! Everything's been crazy around here." Daphne smiled right at him, and as much as he wanted simply to take her smile in, he couldn't. The light in his eyes vanished from Daphne's vision. He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, they were still dulled.

"Cool." he said coldly. "Just call when Daphne reinhabits her body." Ian knew the dig was a bit low, but the expression on her face told him that she didn't feel the way he did about this. She was blissfully ignorant of what she had done. He decided, in a spurt of slightly childish anger at Daphne, that he would show her. But before he could say anything, she took a deep breath.

"Ian, you know this is what I'm expected to do. I can't pretend that I don't know that."

As he looked at her again, and quickly looked away, realizing that she wasn't ignorant of the toll her transformation had taken on him. And he was ashamed that he had thought she was so shallow not to have known.

"I just wish that you hadn't changed so completely." Ian said, turning towards the door.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded, catching him by the shoulder.

He was silent. She had asked him to help her conform to her father's wishes, and he had. Now that her metamorphosis was complete, he selfishly realized that he wished he'd never helped her learn how to walk, talk, and dress like a debutante.

"It's just that—" he attempted to put what he had just realized into words, but couldn't. "I don't know, Daph. I just don't know." He almost ran to the door, the cavernous ceiling of the manor's foyer closing in on him.

"Ian!" she called through the door as he sped away on his motorbike. He kept on going, pretending that he'd never fallen in love with Daphne Reynolds.

"Daphne!" Glynnis appeared out of nowhere. "Are you ready? We have to leave!"

"I'm ready." Daphne almost whispered, tears piercing her eyes."

"Don't cry over that mutt, darling." Glynnis whispered into her ear. "You're one of us now."

As Glynnis disappeared upstairs, Daphne sat down on the chair in the foyer, realizing that it was true. And she had lost Ian, probably forever.