A teen girl seeking retribution against her backstabbing former best friend finds her plans slightly derailed once she catches the eye of a familiar, handsome marquess. Bestselling author Amalie Howard delivers a delightful, anti-historical Regency-era romp that’s Bridgerton meets The Count of Monte Cristo ! Lady Ela Dalvi knows the exact moment her life was forever changed—when her best friend, Poppy, betrayed her without qualm over a boy, the son of a duke. She was sent away in disgrace, her reputation ruined. Nearly three years later, eighteen-year-old Ela is consumed with bitterness and a desire for . . . revenge. Her enemy is quickly joining the crème de la crème of high society while she withers away in the English countryside. With an audacious plan to get even, Ela disguises herself as a mysterious heiress and infiltrates London’s elite. But when Ela reunites with the only boy she’s ever loved, she begins to question whether vengeance is still her greatest desire. In this complicated game of real-life chess, Ela must choose her next move: Finally bring down the queen or capture the king’s heart? “A satisfyingly delightful tale of deception, retribution, and romance.” — Kirkus Reviews “Fast-paced, engaging, and a lot of fun, Howard's novel is a true diamond of the first water.” — Booklist "A cathartic and enjoyable read for fans of high-society intrigue and drama." —Publishers Weekly "A gossipy, vengeance-drenched romance ." —School Library Journal “ Amalie Howard delights and captivates—a refreshingly updated historical that has quickly become one of my favorites !” — Jennifer L. Armentrout, #1 New York Times bestselling author of From Blood and Ash   “ Immersive and inclusive. Amalie Howard brings a new twist to Regency romance in this intriguing story about deceit, bitterness, vengeance . . . and finding true love. Readers are in for a treat!” — Brigid Kemmerer, New York Times bestselling author of Defy the Night   “ Amalie Howard brings a much-needed breath of fresh air to Regency romance in this buzzy revenge romp rich with feisty characters and unexpected friendship.” —Stacey Lee, New York Times bestselling author of Reese’s Book Club Pick The Downstairs Girl   “ Funny, smart, and enchanting. Thoughtfully handled moments of grief and friendship and a swoon-worthy romance make this novel difficult to put down.” —Krystal Marquis, New York Times bestselling author of The Davenports   “ A divine dip into Regency waters! What happens when you have to choose between revenge and love? Set within a multicultural, LGBTQ-positive society, Queen Bee takes flight.” —Jodi Picoult, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Wish You Were Here AMALIE HOWARD is a USA Today and Publishers Weekly bestselling author of historical romance, including The Beast of Beswick , The Rakehell of Roth , and Always Be My Duchess , and has penned several critically acclaimed young adult novels. She is an AAPI, Caribbean-born writer whose work has been featured in publications such as Entertainment Weekly and Oprah Daily . When she’s not writing, she can usually be found reading; being the president of her one-woman Harley Davidson motorcycle club, #WriteOrDie; or power-napping. She lives in Colorado with her family. Chapter One Lyra Everyone sees what you appear to be, few feel what you are, and those few do not dare to oppose themselves to the opinion of the many. --Niccolo Machiavelli London, March 1817 Wincing at the ache in my ribs--I could have sworn I’d heard one of them creak--I sucked in a shallow breath, my fingers white-knuckling the chair as Sally, my lady’s maid and friend, pulled the laces of my stays. Traditional long stays weren’t ever truly laced tight, just enough to underscore the lines of the gown, but I could barely breathe as the stiffly woven twill fabric pinched my upper torso. The pressure in my chest was most likely due to nerves. I was about to take down the reigning queen and king of this year’s social season, which meant the evening had to be perfect . . . everything had to be perfect. First impressions were a valuable tool, and a person usually had only one chance at them. “A bit looser, Sally,” I said through my teeth. She met my gaze in the mirror, her green eyes calm. “Breathe in, count to five, and then release.” Listening to her sage counsel, I inhaled and exhaled. Panic prickled beneath my skin, but with each gentle tug, I felt it start to ease. Stays were a lady’s battle armor--after all, I was going to war, the glittering ballrooms of London my battlefield. Tonight wasn’t about finding a match from the marriage mart. Tonight was about claiming what was mine--position, influence, power. Those things had been taken from me without my consent . . . things that were my right as the daughter of a peer. A splendid come-out. A glittering social season. An impressive suitor. All stolen. And I