Maids know more than they should.

This is a fact true of all maids, and especially true of a maid like Islana - a good maid, that is.

She knew when the master rose in the morning (at dawn, so the butler was instructed to switch the heating on at twilight, else the tiles were too cool underfoot and sir was likely to catch an illness).

She knew what time the mistress was liable to ring for tea (between five and six o'clock, just after dinner before tea, so the cook had the kettle boiled already and a tray laid out with cups and saucers and sugar and milk as soon as the dining plates were cleared away).

She knew the dreams, passions, fears and quirks of each of the princes and princesses -

And she knew, as all maids know, secrets.

The royal family of Illea kept many secrets.

Islana had first met the Crown Prince when she was fourteen and he, fifteen. She had just joined the household - the coarse fabric of the uniform was unfamiliar and unforgiving against her skin, she still shook like a leaf during her curtsy, and she was prone to making unforgiveable mistakes when left alone with the linens. But even then, still naive, new to the entire business, she had enough of a maid's eye to garner an impression from the boy that would last her a lifetime.

He was tall, almost taller than his father at this point, and lanky - he had filled out in later years - with a boy's long limbs and a man's watchful eyes, dressed in a sharply cut suit and standing stiffly, formally, as his father went up and down the lines of staff, speaking quietly. A gentleman, as much as a boy his age could be - most unlike his older brother, who stood beside him, a good head shorter and far more rakish.

When Islana closed her eyes, she could still see them, the royal family, lined up before her. She didn't imagine things had changed greatly since then, although she doubted she would have noticed if anything had. Princess Lucie's smile was still as sweet, Prince Julien's gaze still as piercing, Princess Xandra's hair still as wild and untamed, Lord Demetrius' smirk still as sly.

She thought again of Julien - a tousled-haired boy in a suit too-stiff with the kind of piercing-gaze that cut through your heart so that your secrets spilled through the wound.

Whatever girls were Selected, she thought now, they would have to guard their hearts carefully.

Of all of the family, Madrigal was the most like their mother, and it showed most when Gavril chatted to her about her brother's upcoming Selection. Her eyes were bright and her hands light as she sketched out her thoughts in the air in front of her while she spoke. Beside her, Queen America smiled sweetly, as Queen America always did, and Xandra barely succeeded in sitting still for longer than ten seconds.

Another week, another Report.

But this was going to change everything.

The anthem played, for longer in the studio than on the television screens, and Gavril reluctantly excused himself from his conversation with the young princess, promising to finish the conversation at another time - he hurried back to his spot as King Maxon stood and took his place at the podium. His advisors, with updates on the rebel activity and on infrastructure reforms and environmental concerns, were seated in a long row along one side of the room - there would, it seemed, be several announcementstonight. The royal family, seated on their almost throne-like seats and dressed in elegant clothing on the other side, looked as regal as ever. The much-beloved Queen America's scarlet hair was drawn and wound into a bun that displayed her tiara to perfection, her dress shaded in her trademark blue for this evening - she looked serene. At her right hand, Julien was speaking quietly to her - he was as unlike his father as it was possible to be, and laughter lines creased the corners of his eyes.

After the king had delivered his update on recent raids on rebel camps in the mountains of Zuni, Dakota and Sumner, the Financial Committe updated the nation on New Asia's payment of reparations following the war, ans the Infrastructure Team described plans to redevelop many destroyed apartment buildings in Zuni, which had been worst affected by the rebels.

But no-one was paying attention to any of that - not even the cameras, who were focusing on the royal family. Princess Madrigal, seven years younger than her oldest brother, looked the most relaxed - her long brown hair, the colour of mahoghany, had been braided for the evening, and she wore a dress of the national colours, which she smoothed over her knees from time to time. She always looked at ease, but never more so than at the Report, and the only time she seemed irritated was when she spoke softly to her youngest sibling, Xandra, who, at three years old, did not yet seem to able to sit still through a full sitting of the show.

Madrigal hushed her sister as the Minister of Events came to the podium.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen of Illea. As you all know, notices to participate in the Selection were recently distributed in the mail. We have received the first count of submitted applications and I am pleased to say that thousands of beautiful women in Illea have already placed their name into the lottery for the Selection!"

A miniscule shift from Julien, a minute changing of expression.

"On behalf of the royal family, I would like to thank you for your enthusiasm and patriotism. With any luck, by the New Year we will be celebrating the engagement of our beloved Prince Julien to an enchanting, talented and intelligent Daughter of Illea!"

The advisors - and the king, looking proud - applauded as Julien smiled, looking a little more at ease.

"Of course, we'll be having lots of programming dedicated to meeting the young women of the selection, not to mwntion specials on their lives at the palace. We could not think of anyone more qualified to guide us through this exciting time than our very own Gavril Fadaye!

Gavril returned to the stage he had departed only minutes ago, looking charming with a bleached-tooth smile and a magenta suit with a silver pin flashing in the studio lights. As he passed out of sight of the cameras, he aimed a wink and reassuring smile at Julien, before he straightened his tie, threw out his arms, and gave his greeting to the nation.

"Gooooooooooooooood evening, Illea!" he sang. "I have to say I am so honoured to be a part of the selection. Lucky me, I get to meet thirty five beautiful women! What idiot wouldn't want my job?" He winked again. "But before I get to meet these lovely ladies, one of which will be our new princess... I have the pleasure of speaking with the man of the hour, our very own, Prince Julien!"

With that, Julien walked across the carpeted stage to take a seat across from Gavril. The picture of his father at his own age but for the chestnut tones in his hair, this generation's prince leaned back in his chair - just enough to seem likeable, relaxed, without seeming disrespectful - and gave Gabril, and Ilea, a winning smile. "Nice to see you again, Gavril."

"And you, your Highness. Now, let's get down to business straight away, shall we? In less than a month, thirty-five women will be moving into your house. How do you feel about that?"

Julien laughed. "Well, I already have my two sisters to contend with, so I doubt it will be that different, Gavril - they're loud enough for an entire village!" He smiled, entirely Prince Charming. "Honestly, it is a bit nerve-racking, but I'm looking forward to it - and I hope I don't make any mistakes."

"Have you asked dear old dad for any advice on how he managed to get ahold of such a beautiful wife when it was his turn?"

Both Julien and Gavril looked over to the king and queen, and the camera panned over on cue to show them looking at each other, smiling and holding hands - a rare moment for King Maxon to seem entirely unguarded. It seemed genuine, and it was, but how would the nation know any better?

"Oh, I'd say myself and Madrigal and Xandra are sick of that story by now, Gavril - and I'm sure Illea is too." He shook his head. "I'm joking, of course - my father has been a veritable fount of wisdom when it comes to advice on the Selection, for which I am very grateful. But, as you know the rebel situation in the outer provinces has been escalating so his attention has been distracted in recent weeks, and I've been working with him on the strategic and military side of things."

"We don't have much time left, so I'd like to have one more question. What do you imagine your perfect girl would be like?"

Julien tried to look taken aback, but it was apparent he had expected this question - and even more apparent he had been considering the answer at length. It was hard to tell, but he may have been blushing.

"Honestly, I don't know. I think that's the beauty of the Selection. No two women who enter will be exactly the same - not in looks or preferences or disposition. And through the process of meeting them and talking to them, I'm hoping to discover what I want, to find it along the way."

King Maxon smiled in the background, almost as though he couldn't help it.

Gavril beamed. "Thank you, Your Highness. That was very well said. And I think I speak for all of Illea when I wish you the best of luck." Gavril held out his hand for another shake.

"Thank you, Gavril," Julien said, and for a moment his gaze darted towards the camera as though he was wondering what girls were watching and what they had thought of him. The next shot cut immediately back to Gavril.

"I'm afraid that's all the time we have for this evening. Thank you for watching the Illea Capital Report, and we'll see you next week. Goodnight!"

As soon as the cameras had been switched off, Julien couldn't help but allow himself to relax slightly, slump down in his chair that bit more, as his parents smiled sweetly at each other and the family began to move off the stage.

The anthem was still playing somewhere in the background as they retreated backstage, where Demetrius was waiting. Tousled dark hair, a loosened tie and a half-open shirt - he couldn't have looked less princely if he tried. Julien wasn't certain why Maxon insisted on Demetrius attending each Report when he was forbidden from appearing on it. Julien doubted very much that anyone in Illea even knew he existed, which was probably a good thing - he wondered how it would affect Maxon and America's nation-wide popularity if their womanizing, quasi-alcoholic eldest son was public knowledge.

Whether Demetrius' demotion to lord rather than prince, and removal from heir, had come before or after the party lifestyle, Julien didn't know.

But he did know that Demetrius was almost definitely hungover at the moment.

His brother gave him a sly smirk as he passed, that Julien ignored. They were polar opposites - day and night, sunlight and storm, Prince Charming and the storybook villain - and they got on about as well as a cat and mouse. The same was true of much of the family - the only person Demetrius seemed to tolerate was Xandra, probably because she could barely talk. Tonight, he gave Xandra only an absent-minded pat on the head before he was off seducing two of the Report's female interns, looking rogueish.

"Well," America murmured as she caught up with Julien. "Are you nervous yet?"

"Yet? I've been nervous since the Selection was announced." Julien shrugged and smiled. "But what's the worst that can happen? I'd be lucky to end up with any one of those Selected, and I'm sure I'll find one that tolerates me."

"Tolerates? Loves."

"I'm keeping my mind open, mother." Julien held the door open for his mother, something that the queen rolled her eyes at, but smiled at nonetheless.

"Good luck, Julien," his mother said. "You'll need it."

Name:
Age:
Caste:
Occupation:
Province:
Detailed description of their appearance:
Detailed description of their personality:
Three sample dresses they might wear:
Makeover (what changes, their opinion towards it):
Why did they enter the Selection?:
Why were they chosen?:
History:
Family:
Opinion of Julien:
Opinion of Maxon and America:
Opinion of Demetrius:
Opinion of Madrigal and Xandra:
Opinion of the rebels:
How do they treat the other contestants?:
How do they treat the maids? (I will create them):
Likes:
Dislikes:
Strengths:
Weaknesses:
Skills:
Fatal Flaw:
Songs that echo their character:
Sum up their character in one line:
Other: