Hello all... SYOC is open! I'd love to incorporate as many characters as possible, so please feel free to send as many ideas as possible. This is my first SYOC but I want to keep an open conversation with many of you about your characters throughout the story, so I would prefer not to have Guest submissions. Thank you!

The rain came down in streams, buckets, and waterfalls. The day was dark, dreary, and wet. The crowd of people standing in the cemetery wore black and held black umbrellas. It felt cliche to Grayson and Winter, but that was simply how it was. Somber faces, somber clothes, somber day. And the rain kept pouring down.

In front of Grayson, the inscriptions on the line of headstones were blurred by the rain, but he stared at them anyways, preferring the marble stone to the emotionless faces of the soldiers standing at attention, or, even worse, the tear-streaked cheeks of his younger sister.

Queen America Singer-Schreave, one said. It was older, resting next to her husband's stone, King Maxon Schreave. Behind them, a generation back, rested Queen Amberly and King Clarkson. Of the newest stones in place today, Queen Eadlyn Schreave was the furthest away- Grayson's great-grandmother finally was at rest next to her husband, who had died a few years earlier. It was remarkable, everyone said, that Grayson and Winter knew their great-grandmother for so long. Grayson had just turned 18, after all.

Then came the next headstones, Queen Kalia and King Elijah Illea, Grayson's grandparents. It was said that Elijah Illea had renounced his family, outcasts for their past intentions to overthrow the Queen despite carrying the namesake of the kingdom, in order to enter Queen Kalia's Selection. A truly romantic story. They were the last headstones as of yet to rest in the ever-growing line of the Royal Family's headstones. In a nearby plot, fresh tombs bore the names of Grayson and Winter's many aunts and uncles and cousins.

They'd all been coming to visit, the relatives, coming to celebrate the announcement of Grayson's Selection- an announcement that had now been postponed, due to the tragedy. Despite the King's best soldiers being at the forefront of investigations, it still remained a mystery how exactly the events of that day had unfolded… While the public was told it was a tragic accident that the train had slid off the tracks and crashed, killing the royal passengers on board, it was clear to the Royal Family that it was no such thing.

As the funeral service concluded, Grayson was escorted away with his sister and parents by armed soldiers. It had been short, for safety reasons, but discretely televised, so as not to disturb those present but still broadcast it to the rest of Illea. He snuck one look back at the headstones. His great-grandma Eadlyn hadn't been around much in private, only choosing to visit the palace for holidays once or twice a year. She wasn't too friendly with his parents or grandparents, mostly for political reasons. She thought the country was going downhill under Illean rule. She'd never really approved of King Elijah Illea, from what Grayson could gather.

Grandma Kalia and King Elijah had been much closer with the Crown Prince and his sister. They were around for every birthday, Christmas, and lived nearby so they could visit often. They had trained King Monroe for the throne and were full of advice for Grayson as he prepared himself to take his father's place sometime in the next few years. They were the grandparents everyone wanted to have.

As for the others… Grayson refused to give himself much time to think of his aunts and uncles and cousins. It was painful, and there were bigger things to worry about- at least, that's what he told himself. He couldn't be weak like his sister. Winter was only 15, a sensitive soul if there ever was one. She cried at the movies where puppies died, she couldn't bear to see anybody suffering. There was a reason Grayson was the Crown Prince- he could handle the tough decisions. Winter buckled too easily.

It didn't take long to reach the safety of the palace walls. Grayson was silent as his butler brought out new, dry clothes for him to change into and his maids carried away his wet umbrella and clothes. Dressed in a crisp gray button-up and slacks, Grayson's demeanor changed the moment he stepped out of the door. Happier, more confident, focused. Everyone might have been mourning, but the job of the Prince didn't simply disappear because of it. He still had work to do, and he couldn't let any weakness show. The threat of his family's death had everyone on edge- you didn't know who to trust, really, as any one of the people he passed could have been part of the plot to derail that train.

In his father's office, Grayson found King Monroe sitting at his desk, a mountain of paperwork in front of him and a huddle of advisors clustered around him. They parted for Grayson, and the King looked up smiling.

"Wonderful, Grayson, you're here. We were just going over the necessary paperwork for your Selection," King Monroe said. "Regretfully, we have no time to waste, and will be making the announcement on The Report this Friday. Letters should be sent out this evening, tomorrow morning by the latest." As he spoke, he held out a manila folder to his son. Grayson took it dutifully, and glanced at the first page inside. It was the application.

"I see you're asking them to list castes," he noted, looking around at the advisors, a couple of whom were shifting uncomfortably. "Do you think that's wise?"

The King nodded brusquely. "We all know it's the best thing to do at this point." He raised his eyebrows at Grayson, who nodded. He and his father were at an understanding.

Grayson had mixed feelings on this point. The caste system was too complicated and messy to abolish, though it seemed his ancestors had tried, and yet it was oppressive and despised by many of the people. The stigmas of the former castes never seemed to disappear, no matter how hard his great-grandparents had tried, and the few families that were able to pursue different occupations were faced with a harsh reality. The best jobs still went to the Twos and Threes, as did the promotions and the best salaries. Even the lower castes seemed content to only interact with their own numbers, but the detest for discrimination of the lower castes still remained.

Not only that, but times were tough. The economy was falling apart. The formal abolishment of the caste system had caused an influx of citizens vying for the best paying jobs, the highest prestige. Absolutely no one wanted the association of a Five or lower, but unemployment was at an all-time high. Spending was down. Everything was just falling to bits. King Monroe had to face the facts, his advisors said. The castes were distasteful, but they kept the economy going. Illea couldn't manage without them.

If Winter were in charge, Grayson knew, the caste system wouldn't even be on the table. That was why she didn't know it was being orchestrated by the King. She wasn't the heir to the throne, after all, she didn't need to know the politics behind every action.

Grayson sighed. The Selection was a tradition, but it always seemed to be more of a distraction for the people. His father was counting on him to publicly date thirty-five women in the hopes of finding a wife while investigations into his family's death were carried out, and while the King and his advisors desperately sought a solution to the crumbling economy. Up until now, the Selection had always been a political move to Grayson. It was just one more way to keep the people content while his father did his job.

But now, faced with the reality of it… Grayson realized he was expected to fall in love. That can't happen on cue, he thought.