Author's Notes:
Hello, Faithful Readers! Thank you for joining me on another Selection journey. Those of you new to my stories, so glad to have you!
This new story will follow the events in"The Selection", the first book in the series. It revolves around the staff that we were introduced to in brief throughout the books. Although most are mere acquaintances to us, I wanted to dig deeper into the lives of the maids and guards we met as we read this wonderful story and how The Selection affected them in every way.
I am also introducing some new characters who I hope you will find just as interesting and intriguing. I will post in whose POV each section is written so readers can follow along easily.
This story is rated for (MA) only! I will always place a WARNING label on chapters that contain graphic content.
Enjoy!
~Sweetwaterspice
A Gilded Cage Just for Me
Chapter One
"What a privilege to live, inside my gilded cage. To onlookers so it may seem. But my wings are clipped, I cannot live, the life I truly yearn to live. Maybe tomorrow, maybe one day, I'll know what it feels like to be free. My dreams reside within me here. I live, I love...I'll die inside my gilded cage."
Maids Quarters – 4:16 a.m.
~Anne
"Anne…Anne…wake up," came a whisper, my sleep, rudely disrupted.
The covers pulled tighter about my head. There was no verbal reply only a groan.
"Anne!" the plea, still quiet but more urgent, was now accompanied by a solid shake to my shoulder.
This time, I grumbled. "Go back to bed!" I hissed at the bothersome intruder.
Thankfully the pest stopped, releasing an audible huff of breath.
"Mary!" Seeing she wasn't getting the response she wanted, she turned to my companion on the adjacent bunk shaking her too.
This time there was a response but not a pleasant one. "Lucy! Go back to bed!" Mary's voice though a hushed whisper, bristled with irritation.
"I can't sleep!"
I pulled the sheet from my head, squinting at the two shadowy figures in the dark.
"Well…try!" Mary, like me, had turned her back to Lucy, draping the sheet over her head.
"I can't sleep…I can't!"
Mary shot up, snapping the sheets with a dull thud on her lap. "Lucy," she breathed, trying to show extreme patience now at being woken.
"I'm exhausted…please…Go. Back. To. Bed!" Like a magician, Mary quickly disappeared under her sheets again.
"SHHH! Will you keep it down over there?" came a scathing request from across the room.
Undeterred, Lucy returned to her first target, me. "Anne!"
Seeing that rest and sweet sleep would be impossible with the thorn at my side pricking me, I sat up. "Luuuucy!" I whined. "Pleeease!" I cried with a whimper.
"I'm sorry. But I just can't seem to hold my nerves together. If I don't talk to someone, I might just explode to bits!"
"Perhaps then, I can get some sleep!"
"How can you sleep at a moment like this? Aren't you excited?!"
"I will be once I must get up and not a second before!" I grumbled disappearing again.
Lucy pulled on the sheets, uncovering me to my knees. The cool air of the room was enough to scare slumber away.
"We'll be getting our assignment in a few hours. We'll get to see who our Lady will be. Our Selected Lady!" I could hear the rays of sunshine beaming from Lucy's words.
I sighed and sat up again. Lucy had taken a seat on the edge of my small bed. "I know," I sighed, and adding a tender smile, "It is exciting, Lucy." Lucy never got excited about much these days, if ever. It was nice to see there was something in her life she was looking forward to participating in so much.
"Do you think she'll be beautiful?" Lucy wondered.
"Beautiful? I don't know. I would hope she was at least…pretty." I tucked loose strands of blonde hair back under Lucy's nightcap.
"I wonder who she is. What's her caste? What her name is?" she asked in wonderment, her fingers laced and tucked under her chin.
With a reassuring smile, I replied, "Well, we'll find out in a few hours, won't we?"
"I'll bet she'll be everything Prince Maxon wants," she beamed.
"Now, let's not go putting the carriage before the horse there, missy."
"Oh…I know," she smiled dreamily. "But I bet she is beautiful."
"We'll see."
Lucy sighed.
"Now off to bed. You don't want your brain to be all mush when Mrs. LaFontaine gives us our assignment now, do you?"
"Oh no!" She stood to leave and then turning back to me said, "Thank you." For talking to her that is. Lucy was timid and frail. There weren't many of the other maids that tolerated her much. After all, Lucy had been broken. But she had found good support in Mary and me. And understanding her challenges, she had been embraced by the two of us in friendship and a bond of sisterhood.
"You're welcome."
I slid back under the blankets. Sleep was now fleeting. I sighed and wondered if I could have a happily ever after? I supposed that finding love for a maid or for a prince wasn't all that different. Love was love no matter your caste. Everyone needed to be loved. That is the way the good Lord made us, I reasoned. Again, I sighed, discouraged. Who was I fooling? I was a maid. I wasn't born to privilege. I was an orphan with no bloodline of my own, no heritage to trace back, and no family tree. What options did I truly have? I guessed being a spinster for the rest of my life wouldn't be so bad after all. With that somber thought I closed my eyes and quietly wept.
Maids Quarters – 6:45 a.m.
~Ashton
"Look at them," came the remark behind a steely, annoyed set of brown eyes. "You'd think the Prince himself was venturing down here to greet us all personally." Her lips twisted with a definitive smirk. Dark ebony hair had been swept on to one shoulder, as she reached back for the tedious zipper of her uniform.
Having offered a helping hand with the zipper, I shrugged. "I don't know. I can't blame them, really. It isn't every day a lowly maid gets the chance of a lifetime."
My ebony haired companion turned to me with a scoffing laugh. "Whose lifetime?! I would hope you were not insinuating ours, Ashton."
"You know what I mean! It's a privilege few maids have had; helping the Prince of Illéa select his bride?"
"A privilege? Are you out of your mind? Personally, unless I'm the one screwing the prince, I don't give a rat's ass."
I rolled my eyes. "Skyler, will you stop being so cynical?" I asked in my usual lighter tone.
"Sure. When pigs fly."
Skyler and I were similar and yet so different. While we were both the same age, had long brunette tresses, and loved to have a good time, my eyes from what I was constantly told where radiant green, like emeralds, hers were warm, like molten chocolate. Our temperaments were quite on the opposite spectrum as well. Skyler always looked at the glass as half-empty while I tried to look at life in a more positive light.
Skyler Whitney, my friend, was brash and no-nonsense, gorgeous on the outside with a wicked venom of a spirit inside and a razor sharp tongue. She hated everything the monarchy stood for. Restriction. Censorship. Prohibition – of the sexual nature, that is. Why the hell did the monarchy get to tell people how to live, where to live, who to marry and who to have intimate relations with? Why should the monarchy have any say as to how she chose to live her life and whom, most importantly, she chose to have in her bed?
She had been sold into this wretched place as she called the palace by a mother with an unquenchable thirst for drink as well as the male sex. Her mother had told her this would be for the best. At least, she'd have a shot at not ending up like her. I was lucky I supposed. I was born here and my parents still worked here. They always made me feel secure and loved. Something I took for granted.
Skyler's bitter feelings only swelled as she saw the life of the Ones, and their fellow Two's, bastions of an established system of which Gregory Illéa thought would keep everyone in their place. Of course, that was a good thing if your caste ranked among the privileged, who were, for the most part too unconcerned with the plight of the lower ranked castes to care. In Skyler's eyes, the preservation of the higher castes and the lifestyle they so pompously enjoyed was of much more value to them than the poor souls that helped to keep it in tact. We were...a commodity. Easily expendable, replaceable, interchangeable.
Their foreign "allies", fared no better in her estimation of things. Dignitaries and politicians were just another pit of venomous snakes but of a different sort. Snobbishly arrogant and prone to self-indulgence with as much thirst for power as they did sex. Fortunately, we had never allowed ourselves to be violated by any of these rapacious men or their Lothario sons who treated some of the maids as mere pieces of ass, satisfying the wanton desires that their wives or intended couldn't back at home. It made her sick. Not that she was a saint by any means. Skyler had decided that a long time ago. She would work for the Ones, but the Ones were not going to set their shackles on her. She lived in their cage but they wouldn't own her. Not her spirit.
"Ashton!" called a voice, from across the room. Skyler looked at the younger girl approaching, a week short of her eighteenth birthday and groaned. She was bouncy and happy and to Skyler, overly annoying. She turned her attention from the lively, golden haired teen back to the chore of fixing her unmade bed.
"Isn't this exciting, Ashton?! Look!" gestured the young blonde, her hair pulled tight and secured in a bun, eyes wide in awe. The room bustled with maids readying themselves in standard black and white uniforms, chit-chatting about the monumental assignment that would be soon laid at their feet.
Before I could answer, Skyler turned. "Not you too?" she frowned, snapping the sheet of her bed. The linen billowed before resting on the twin mattress.
"Of course I'm excited! Aren't you?"
As dry as she could state, "I can't contain myself," and with as disingenuous of a smile as she could muster, grinned widely.
"Oh posh!" the youngster, waved at her, ignoring my twenty year old friend's attempt to dampen her spirits. "What about you, Ashton? Please tell me you're excited. We will be working together you know. We should all have the same team spirit!"
"Oh great! Rah, rah!" Skyler mumbled under her breath. Noticing her lack of enthusiasm, the youngster shrugged at me, asking in effect, what was the problem?
"Don't worry. She just woke up on the wrong side of the bed."
"And besides…uh…uhm…" Skyler wiggled her fingers, not being able to recall the girl's name.
"Virginia," I interjected, realizing my friend was horrible with names, especially if they weren't of the male persuasion.
"Really? Is this a joke?"
"No, ma'am…it is my name," she confirmed with a furrowed brow. "From birth. Been..."
Skyler frowned, cutting her off. "First of all, do not address me as ma'am. Do I look old enough to be your mother?! Miss Skyler will do just fine."
"Sorry, ma…I mean, Miss Skyler. My name's from the old country. At least so I was told...anyway." Her voice faded as she noticed Skyler's annoyance.
"Well, Virginia, news flash!" smirked Skyler in response, "That name carries a much deeper meaning than you realize, my dear. Don't worry though, we'll work on it after you turn eighteen."
The entendre behind Skyler's words were more like a cryptic message to the ears of Virginia who being very young, and very inexperienced when it came to the world of sexual innuendos didn't understand their meaning. I could see the puzzled look clearly on her face. I giggled inside.
"Oh look! There's Anne and Lucy!" she waved to the others with a huge outstretched arm, seeming to move on to other matters of greater importance to her than her name. "I'm going to go see what they think!" And just as excitedly as she'd joined us, bounded off.
"What the hell was that?" Skyler glared at me.
"Well don't look at me like that. I didn't assign her to us."
"How could Marguerite do this to me…to us?! We worked perfectly together." Her brow furrowed even deeper as she furiously tucked the ends of the sheet under the mattress. I assisted her, taking duty of the other side.
"I think maybe Mrs. LaFontaine felt it best if she assigned Marguerite to a different group after your…you know…falling out."
"Marguerite is being such a child! I still can't understand why she's so upset with me?"
"Well…" I gently started, "you did sort of trespass unto her territory. She did have feelings for Ramsey."
"He was not her beau! He's a guard! They're a dime a dozen!" She hissed across the mattress, within range of our space. Even though Skyler could be scandalous, she didn't want everyone in her business.
"Not to Marguerite."
"Oh please!" she scoffed. "I only showed him my bare thigh, not my bare ass! She should be thanking me. What was she thinking anyway? Developing feelings. Guards are here for one purpose, well two, okay, three – dinners, dancing and sex. She shouldn't have allowed it. What did she think? He was going to marry her? I just showed her what a dog he truly was."
"Dog or not, it was for her to determine…not you."
Skyler would never admit it, out loud anyway, that Marguerite and I were the only true sense of belonging and family she had since coming to this place. She was convinced Marguerite would forgive her soon enough.
"Besides, what is our motto?" arching a brow at me she had asked.
Rolling my eyes again I began reciting, "Love is for fools," Skyler then joining in, "and fools fall in love."
"Words to live by Ashton. Trust me."
"Good morning, ladies," Anne greeted as Mary, Lucy and Virginia joined us.
While I greeted Anne and my fellow maids with a smile and a friendly, "Good Morning," Skyler's greeting was less enthusiastic. "Anne," she smiled, barely, having finished fluffing her pillow. Skyler stood confident, with her head held high, looking at the maid on the other side of the bed as if they were on opposite sides of a duel. She followed with the same dry greeting to Mary and Lucy. The other two never engaged Skyler unless necessary and I couldn't blame them, since Skyler Whitney had the uncanny ability of ripping one's soul out of their breathing body. Anne was the strongest of the trio and never seemed intimidated by her so they allowed her the honors to engage.
Virginia's cheerful voice broke up the mild tension. "Anne, Lucy and Mary are all excited too! More Lucy, I think," she giggled as she glanced at Lucy, who wore a smile as wide as a court jester.
"And pray, tell, why should we be all jumping on pins and needles over this? It's not as if any of us even had a shot of getting into the Selection."
"We don't qualify. We're servants. You know that," Anne stated matter-of-factly.
I liked Anne. I liked that she wasn't a pushover. What some may have viewed as rigidness, I saw strength of character and conviction. A rule follower; something I wasn't very good at myself.
"See, Anne, I don't quite recall that being a restriction. As I recall, the eligibility requirements were, any Daughter of Illéa between the ages of sixteen and twenty. Aren't we all Daughters of Illéa? Did you happen to get one of those notices?" she eyed the group, "Because I certainly, didn't!" she chuckled, incredulously.
"We may not qualify but all the castes outside the palace do!" Mary blurted, clearly irritated at Skyler's remark.
"Mary, don't be so daft!" she reprimanded. "Do you really think, that King Clarkson will have some lowly Six or Seven or Eight marry his son? The thought alone is laughable!" She literally laughed. "It would be interesting if a Five makes it through and if she does, survives the first day."
"A Six could make it!" Lucy added, uncharacteristically, since she hardly ever spoke to Skyler. It was a mistake.
"Lucy…my poor, poor dear," Skyler looked at her with the pity shown a wounded animal. With a soft tone of voice as if caressing that wounded animal said, "How do you manage such optimism? I mean really, you of all people should know better," she ended smugly. Her reply made Lucy retract into that pit of shame she so desperately wanted to forget. We all knew how Lucy ended up here. Her story was a constant reminder that love does not conquer all. It was a fact I couldn't let myself forget. She shied away, embarrassed. Anne's lips tightened, seeing the effects of those stabbing words on Lucy. Skyler could be such a bitch at times.
I saw the tension set in Anne's jaw. She was very protective of Lucy and I could see the daggers shooting in Skyler's direction. Regaining her composure as was her character she let the matter go, stating, "You may be right. But for now, none of those questions have been answered. Soon enough they will be and we can carry on this discussion from there."
She wasn't about to get into it with Skyler so early in the morning. Skyler, we well knew, had her feelings about the monarchy and she wasn't the only one. But this was our lot, the cards we had been dealt and Anne for one, wasn't going to spit in the face of the place that kept her well fed, housed and employed. I had to admit, I admired that.
"Anne's right," I voiced. "Why speculate? We have no idea who or why the 35 selected have been chosen." For it had been hinted by means of the grapevine but not confirmed, that King Clarkson himself had hand picked the girls instead of lottery as advertised. "We just know for a certainty that 35 ladies have been chosen and our duty is to make sure that whoever we're assigned to has the best shot at winning the crown."
I saw a light spark in Skyler's eyes. I knew all too well her thinking pattern. When I put it that way, her perspective seemed to do a 180. A competition. Skyler hated losing at anything. Her competitive nature wouldn't allow her to fail. Although in her estimation of things this entire process was unfair and who knows, maybe rigged, there wasn't anything she wouldn't do to make sure her Selected would be the one sitting on that throne!
The bell rang. We dispersed. It was time for breakfast.
What did you think of this first chapter? You know what to do now ~ post a review, PM, fave or follow! Share your thoughts! I'm really curious to know what you guys think! Would you like me to continue this story? Remember readers, your thoughts are important to us!
Author's Notes in my story "At Last" has been archived and is no longer available.
Chapter Two! Come back to see!