I check my appearance in the monitor next to a camera as my mother says the final words of her address about the recent ship sinking on the coast of Swendway. She talks full of sadness, but not a tear slips from her eyes. I know she cried rehearsing it before, probably because of all the Swendish people close to her. The only person as close to her as Miss Neena and my father is Henri. I know she went out to visit Henri, given the accident in his homeland.

"Now we have my daughter, Princess Bluella Shreave, heir to the crown of Illéa," she says as she steps away from center stage. I take a breath and step up, smoothing the creases in my heavy gray skirt. Mom thought it was best to make my outfit resemble hers slightly, like an echo. Unlike her, though, I wear my hair loose around my shoulders, whilst hers is pinned up around her head and ears.

I stand in the middle of the stage, knowing millions on millions of people are looking at me right now, waiting for what I'll say, but I've never been as good at commanding crowds as my family.

"As many of you know I recently turned eighteen. Probably all of you, considering I'd broken my foot while at my party." The crowd ripples with laughter at the memory of one of my trademark clumsy acts. "Considering it's my eighteenth year I think it's time I gain company that's a little more...interesting." Another laugh. "I thought I had passed my boy crazy phase when Forgetting You had broken up, but recently I've been thinking more and more about who I'd like to marry, and I think it's about time I find out." A confused murmur runs across the crowd. "It's tradition for the heir to the throne to hold a Selection to find their true love, a man or woman of Illéa. Although I am not the firstborn of the Shreaves" I swallow "I would hope you'll all indulge me in the honour of holding my own Selection." The crowd claps and there are a few hoots. "All eligible men are invited to enter, but you only have until next week to enter. Traditionally it's two, for those of you old enough to remember my mother's Selection, but I'm a little impatient. My

mother met her love through a Selection, as did hers and I hope to as well."

I offer a broad grin of excitement at the thought of my love. I'm a little swept up in my fantasy because I trip over the hem of my dress, spilling across the floor. Everyone takes a colective gasp, but nobody moves. I lie face-first motionless on the floor for a beat before slowly picking myself up. My head lolls forward and blood drips down onto the floor.

"Blue?" I feel an arm lift me to my feet. "Are you alright?"

I nod my head slowly. I look to the side to see my older brother, Kelly, half carrying me offstage. The people talk nervously. I hear the host of The Report, Johannes Raines try to calm the crowd.

"Please, everyone, the princess will be fine! She'll be back on next week to announce the contestants for the Selection!"

Kelly carries me down the hallway toward the hospital wing. I've been this way far too many times. I've broken almost as many bones as I have dishes. And that's saying something.

Next thing I know, I'm in the doctor's office. The all too familiar face of Dr. Gibbs hovers over my cot.

"Your Highness, not again! I just took your cast off!"

"I don't know what happened," Kelly tells him. "She slipped and fell."

The doctor prods my forehead. I clench my teeth in pain whilst he rubs circles around the cut. He holds it open, checking for dust

"Listen, Prince Kelly, I'm going to go get her some medicine. Make sure she doesn't fall asleep."