Chapter 1

"I am addressing you all when I say this, no one shall be seen in the first or second floor of the Palace till dinner. The Royal Family will take their dinner early in the dining room and then go right back to the third floor till tomorrow. We do not want the Selected to see anyone from The Royal Family or anyone they could recognize. This includes Chief Advisers, reporters; really, anyone that is shown on the Report. Tomorrow, Maxon will meet the girls. This will take place in the Great Room, so it will be off bounds for the morning. King Clarkson, Queen Amberly and Princess Liri will take breakfast in the dining room per usual, joined by the Selected and Prince Maxon." I shifted in my seat. Though I was wearing pants today, the gray fabric was itchy and uncomfortable, hardly better then the dress I had refused to in the morning. We were seated in one of the meeting rooms on the first floor of the Palace, where budget meetings and others of the sort usually took place. There was a large wooden table in the middle of it and we were seated around it, my father at his respectable place at the head of the table, my mother next to him, both their seats slightly higher than the rest, Maxon on their one side and I on the other. I was sure we looked intimidating that way, The Royal Family at the head of the table, all straight backs and prominent frowns. As the Chief Adviser of Public Opinion rambled on about the Report that would be broadcast today and showed a small preview, I tried to imagine what it would be like later today. 35 girls, entering the Palace, my home, for who knew how long. They would eat, sleep, learn, live here. I would probably run into them eventually. Would they be excited to meet me? Would they hug me? Would they address me at all? I felt a tingle of nerves but didn't understand it's source. These girls weren't coming for me. I glanced over at Maxon and saw that his eyes were frozen to Silvia, who was now speaking about the Selected's first lesson tomorrow. His face was blank and he looked pale, or rather, paler than usual. I felt a pang of pity for him, glad I wasn't in his position. I could only imagine his nerves, excitement, dread, and whatever else he was feeling only piling on all the other things that occupied his mind as he worked along side my father, getting ready to replace him. I would have to speak to him later, before the girls arrived. I imagined we wouldn't have much time to talk in the next few days so I would have catch him now, before the chaos began.

After an hour of explaining how we were to address the girls, when we should speak to them and when remain silent, the meeting was finally dismissed. The Advisers waited till we left the room and then exited after us. We were all supposed to go up to our rooms and not leave the third floor till 17:00, but I desperately wanted to talk to Maxon and knew he would disappear into his room the second he arrived there. "Max! Hey, Max!" I called out to him, taking care to not quicken my pace too much. It was improper to run or come close to it in the Palace, according to Silvia, who lectured Maxon and I every time we used to hurry down the stairs for dinner or chase each other around when we were younger. "Hm?" Maxon asked as he turned around. "That's it, the girls aren't even here yet and you've already forgotten about the most important one?" I teased him. I caught up with him and we began walking side by side, emerging at the Entrance Hall and heading up the stairs. "What can I say, sis? I'm getting old and forgetful," he replied as he put my arm around me in brotherly fashion. "Hey, you nervous? You were really out of it at that meeting," I asked him. "Nervous? Nah. 35 girls coming to compete for my hand? I've been through worse."

"Right, I forgot," I played along. We walked down the main corridor of the third floor and stopped in front of our rooms. They were right across from each other, and the Princess Suite was right next Maxon's. I imagined someone living there, her and Maxon's rooms on one side while mine was on the other. My brother spending time with her, talking with her, confiding in her. I felt a sting of jealousy. I was so used to Maxon being there for me all the time, to me being the person he trusted most. One of those girls would come and take that away from me. I tried to clear my head of the thought. "Come inside for a second." Maxon's face fell. "Liri, I have work and Father's expecting me to read two chapters from the Budgeting and Savings book by nightfall. The text there is tiny and it's thirty pages each." I pouted and her relented. I didn't want to feel the desire to be the only girl in his life. He worked so hard, he deserved to be happy and find someone he loved. Too bad I was so selfish. I opened the door and we entered my room. Mara immediately curtsied. I had another personal maid, Suzie, but she had been taken to help with the preparations for the Selection. Mara waited for me to address her and I did. "Hello, Mara." She rose and immediately asked: "Can I get you anything, Your Highness?"

"Um, just water please," I answered. Maxon nudged me. "A-And chocolate chip cookies, if there are any in the kitchen." Mara gave a knowing smile as she left the room. It was a well-known fact that the Royal Family's two siblings had a mild obsession with chocolate chip cookies. I flopped back on my bed as Maxon walked around, examining things and fumbling with them. My room was all dove blues and grays. The furniture was mostly dark wood or white wood. My large glass windows were always open, letting in sunlight and warm air. I loved my room, everything about it gave such a relaxing aura, which was much needed in the hectic atmosphere at the Palace. And dove blue, ah, what a gorgeous color. It reminded me of my mother in a distinctive sort of way. Gentle and sophisticated. Mara came bustling back with a pitcher of water, two glasses, a plate of butter cookies and an apologetic "They were too busy." I told her it was fine and sent her away. Maxon finally flopped down beside me, his mouth full of cookie crumbs. "Don't get them on my bed," I warned him, though I knew Mara or Suzie would clean them the second the took notice of them. "I love your room, you know? I think even more than I love mine," he said thoughtfully. Even he loved my room. "Max, how are you? I mean, with this whole Selection thing?"

"I-I'm really nervous. I'm so nervous, I can't think about anything else. I kind of want to not go through with it. I mean, what if I make a fool out of myself? I don't know how to date. What if they laugh at me behind my back and everybody knows except me?" We were quiet for a moment. "They're coming because they want to win your hand. They want you. You're probably intimidating to them. They're probably scared of you." I didn't know if what I was saying was helping him or making it worse. "Should I be intimidating to them? I mean, I'm trying to date them, I don't think I should seem intimidating." The thought of cookies was too hard to pass up and I sat up and reached for the plate. "I'm not saying that you should be this person they fear. I'm just saying, I don't think you'd be someone they gossip about. Well, except for stuff like 'OMG, Maxon kissed me yesterday! He's so dreamy and sexy, I tingle when I think about him.'" He hit me with a pillow. Maxon's face was red. "You think they'll actually say stuff like that? God, I can't imagine it." I chuckled. Maxon was such a kid when it came to that kind of stuff. "Ugh, I should probably go back to my room. I have to finish some stuff before the Selected get here." I felt heavy disappointment fill my mind but tried not to show it. "Oh well, see you at dinner." I felt sad for some reason, like this was the last time we were going to have something like this, just him and I. He was almost out the door when I stopped him. "Hey, Max." He turned around. Don't forget about me. "Good luck." He tilted his head. "I'm not meeting them today, you know," he said. "With the chapters. From the Budgeting and Savings book." His mouth curled into a smile. "Thanks," and with that, he left. I sat on my bed, feeling hollowed out. The itchy fabric of my pants reminded me of it's existence and I called Mara to help me change. It wasn't that I needed help changing, I could do that very well by myself, but Mara knew my closet better than I did, and I only made a mess when I tried to understand her and Suzie's intricate clothing arrangement. "Yes, Your Highness?" she asked once she rose from her curtsy. "These pants are impossible, Mara. They're so itchy." Mara smirked. "Yes, well, I told you in the morning that you should wear the dress and you insisted on the pants." Maids weren't supposed to speak like that to The Royal Family, much less smirk at them, but Mara, Suzie and I were incredibly close. They were five years older than I, but once you hit twenty, those years didn't matter. They were the only girls my age I knew, and we were together for hours a day. Suzie was always the more formal one, but she too crossed the line between maid and friend. "But today isn't a dress kind of day," I informed her. Mara began rummaging in my closet room while I finished the last of the butter cookies. Mara and Suzie really had to start bringing me less cookies, they weren't doing me any good. "Here, try these," Mara said as she emerged from the closet room and handed me dark blue fabric. I slipped off the gray pants and sighed with content. The blue pants were perfect, not too tight and with a tie-on belt that let me tuck my white blouse into my pants. Mara came to fumble with my shirt, tucking parts in and pulling parts out until she was satisfied. I looked in the mirror and smoothed some invisible creases off my pants. My blond hair was swept back into a low ponytail with some hairs framing my face that were supposed to look effortless and accidental but had taken Suzie a few tries to perfect. "Thanks, Mara," I said. "I have to go, I'm meeting Mother to work."

"Hi, Mom," I said as I entered the the small sitting room where we had planned to meet. I only called her Mom when it was just us or only the close family, otherwise it was Mother, which sounded formal and awkward but I couldn't call her Mom in public. "Hi Liri,"she replied, sounding tired. We usually worked in the Women's Room but it was occupied by the Selection at the moment. I went to sit next to her on the couch. This room was like a much smaller version of the Women's Room but without a t.v.. There was a small glass table in front of us, where Mom had placed our papers. "How's your day going, honey?" she asked, smoothing my ponytail. "Fine, Mom. How's yours? You sound tired." She gave me a small smile. "Oh, I'm fine. It's just the Selection and the war, it has us all on edge." She looked at me for a moment and then straightened up. "We just have to bear through it, right? We have work to do." That's how she was, my mother. She didn't let her personal life get in the way of her work. She worked for the people, and she was devoted to it. It was something I would never be able to do. "The construction is beginning in a week, I called them yesterday and they gave the final confirmation." I nodded my head and reached for the black folder with the white crest of Illéa printed on the front. I opened it and pulled out a list of the best artists in Illéa. Mom and I were planning an art museum, the first in the country. There were so many old paintings lying in the Palace, ones we didn't hang or didn't even remember owing. And there were many talented fives out there that would gladly sell their art. It was something we could show off when people came to visit The Royal Family, and it could even be like charity we were doing for the fives, giving them an opportunity to show their art and receive money in return. We had been working on it for about a month now, but it was still at the beginning stages. Now that the construction company had confirmed the beginning of construction in one week, we had to start contacting the artists themselves. "The last one we contacted was Barbara James, and she wants to sell three pieces," I informed her. "She will have to come here with the pieces," Mom said, making a note on the list. "We'll call her and have a car pick her up, she won't have one of her own as a five." We continued working, contacting artists and working on the budget for the museum.

I could hear noises from the first floor, many voices overlapping and the wheels of racks on the floor and the sound of hair dryers. It seemed like the Selected were getting a full fledged makeover down there, all to impress, or rather, seduce my brother. I wondered if it was weird to them, getting pampered and washed like I was used to getting every day. I wanted to go down and see it all in motion. It was fascinating to me for some reason, all these girls from the country, used to a completely different lifestyle than mine. I stood at the top of the staircase, trying to sneak a peek at the bustle going on below me. I decided to just go down a few steps to get a better view. I had to be careful. If one of the girls saw me in this state, peeking down at them like a child, it would be the end of me. I crept down and finally got a good view of the Entrance Hall. People were running from place to place with shampoo, makeup, dresses, racks of clothing, lotions, every kind of beauty product I could imagine. At first, I couldn't see any of the Selected, or at least not any girl that looked like one, but then the door to the Palace opened and a women ushered a group of girls inside. They were gorgeous, all smooth skin and skinny and large eyes. It was satisfying to look at them, each one prettier than the next. It was going to be a hard few months. It wasn't that I found myself ugly. I liked my face, except for the light brown birthmark under my left eye. My hair was nice, blonde and silky, I liked to imagine. It was my body that was more problematic. I wasn't large, but I wasn't really skinny either. My stomach wasn't perfectly flat and my arms were at least bigger than my mother's, which wasn't really saying much because my mom was like a swan, all long neck and skinny arms. It wasn't such a big deal, I wasn't so big that people talked about it, I just wasn't my mother. And I wasn't the Selected. I shook my head and went back to my room. I couldn't waste my time criticizing my body, I had dinner to attend.