"America, please."

"No, Mother."

"Well why not?"

"Because I don't want to. I have absolutely no interest in signing up."

"But you could be a princess. Not just a princess, The Princess."

"Exactly."

"No listen to yourself. You're ridiculous."

"Mom, I'm going for a run. I just came home to change."

"But you need to cook diner."

"I've never helped with dinner."

"And that's why I need you to now."

"I do breakfast. I do every breakfast. And at night I use the last hour and a half before curfew to go for my run." The door slams behind me as my feet hit the pavement. Step. Step. Step. Breath. Step. Step. Step. Breath. Step. Step. Step. Breath. Why. Doe-. -sn't. She. Get. it. I. Wish. I. Could. Tell. Her.

The selection would be hell. Worse. The selection would be my Biannual visit to Idris. I'm sorry. But all those meeting and staying with the consul. And the reprimands, 'You must follow procedure, America.' 'Fill out the Incident Reports.' 'Wait for approval before going on missions.' 'Don't break the law. I recognize that the law is stupid and by breaking it you saved us all. The law is hard, but it is the law.' I don't want this. The King is horrible. The prince is stiff and unlovable. So why would I even put my name forward to be part of his pack of girlfriends. I have a war to deal with. To win. But of course she doesn't know that. I wish I could tell her. Maybe she would stop if I did. 'America, you need to settle down get married. But not a five…or lower…or even a four… you could be a three or a two… or even a one. The One.' By the angel.

(\(\

( . . )

C(")(")

"To the house of Singer," Mom started as we sat down to a dinner of chicken, pasta, and apple slices, "the recant census has confirmed that a single woman between the ages of sixteen and twenty currently resides in your home. We would like to make you aware of an upcoming opportunity to honor the great nation of Illéa." May squeaked and hit my arm in quick repetition. "That's you!"

"I know you little monkey."

"'Our beloved prince, Maxon Schreave,'" mom continued, "'is coming of age this month. As he ventures into this new part of his life, he hopes to move forward with a partner, to marry a true Daughter of Illéa. If your eligible daughter, sister, or charge is interested in possibly becoming the bride of Prince Maxon and the adored princess of Illéa, please fill out the enclosed form and return it to you local Province Services Office. One woman from each province will be drawn at random to meet the prince.

"'Participants will be housed in the lovely Illéa Palace in Angeles for the duration of the stay. The family of the participants will be generously compensated for there service the royal family.'"

I was waiting for this. Its just like Mom to, instead of pulling it out alone with Dad, to whip it out in front of the entire family.

"No mom. I wont do it."

"America be sensible."

"Mom I have a life. I can't just drop everything and become a princess."

"What do you possibly have going on? Your dancing career isn't going anywhere fast. Jason may be drafted anyway. It's not like your involved in a war." I cringed. If she only knew.

"No mom. I have absolutely no interest in being famous let alone a princess. The government sucks and I plan on moving to Europe anyway."

"Don't speak like that. I will not permit it in this house. You are committing treason by saying that."

"Like I care. We have no freedom, no news, no justice. The king is an ass hole and I do not intend on letting him control my life forever. You really think that if I become princess that I can be happy? The princess's life will be a living hell. There's a snowballs chance in hell that I will let you or anyone else make me sign up. Three months and I will be in France at the minimum."

"Hell is cold," Leger so helpfully informed me. Jason Leger/Lovelace is my best friend. More then that. He's my parabatai. We're bonded him and I, we help each other, even if sometimes that means not defending each other to my mother.

We adopted him two years ago after the death of his mother to cancer. His father died seven years before that in a demon attack in Kent. We meet right after the death of his father in dance class. He was ten I was eight. Best friend ever since. When his mom died, we knew we would be helping to support him. Even if Mom doesn't know of the shadow world she does see if not understand the bond we have. So without any of our knowledge she filed to make him part of our family.

"You can be quiet now," I said back.

"I'm not contradicting you. Merely just presenting you with the information that your statement is contradicting your argument. In the Inferno the ninth circle of Hell is cold. A snowball would definitely survive down there."

Ignoring him I turned back to my mother, "I have a life. And the selection would mean death."

"How?" Only I couldn't tell her

(\(\

( . . )

C(")(")

"I'm so done with her. I don't want to be a princess. I don't want to be the one. I don't want to even try." I said at midnight in the tree house in our back yard.

"What do you want?" My boyfriend of three years, Alec said back.

"I want you."

"But I'm a six."

"Do I care?"

"Mer I-"

"Look, all I want is you," and to hunt demons, I added in my head.

"Mer, will you for me?"

"What?" I wiled my head around shocked.

"Look at me. I can't provide for you like they can. I can't stand the idea that I would hold you back form something you deserve."

"Alec."

"Mer, please."

"Ok. I'll do it."

(\(\

( . . )

C(")(")

"Ah America. How nice of you to join us." Asmodious sat there in his shadow throne. Behind him was the accords hall, but not. The walls were clearly made of marble but were black as tar. Bronze mist swirled in the air, forcing me to think of the rhyme that dad had told me when I was young. I only learned years later that it was a in fact an old nephilim children's rhyme.

As he spoke, Asmodious gestured to his left where Mom, Dad, Kenna, May, Jared, and Leger stood in chains of demon metal.