It was the morning of the announcement, and as my maids rushed about preparing for it I reflected on what had happened a few days ago, when I had told my parents. Mum and dad had been surprised at first. They'd never considered it. A princess who was an heir was uncommon, but one that liked girls… It was unheard of.
Ahren hadn't cared. I'd told him on the evening of our fifteenth birthday, after I'd been forced to dance with some of the male heirs from neighbouring countries that mum and dad had invited to the party. The boys had smiled and flirted and kissed my hand in greeting and goodbye, but all I was thinking about was the end of the song and how gross their sweaty palms and greasy faces were. Ahren had laughed when I'd told him that, and had shrugged when I'd confessed that I preferred girls.
"I prefer girls, too," he'd said. "So what?"
I had known Ahren would be okay with it, but judging how mum and dad would react was a lot harder. It had taken me three years after that to work up the courage to tell them, and even then they'd had to put me on the spot with their "we're giving you a selection" talk to get me to spill my secret. They were shocked at first, but were okay with it now. I told them it was okay to spread the word, and now most of the castle knows; but there's still the announcement to the rest of the country left to go.
"You okay, miss?" asks Hannah, my head maid; a serious girl with whispy brown hair parted on the side, dark brown eyes and a button nose. She finishes twiddling with my dress and steps back to admire it, my other two maids, Wendy and Jordan, standing next to her. The dress is new, made specially for this brief announcement, and is thankfully rather loose and only goes down to my knees. Unfortunately, that 'requires' a good pair of shoes, and Jordan had taken joy in picking out a pair of black heels. The dress itself is a deep purple, and brings out the small amethysts in the tiara Hannah had insisted I wear.
"You look gorgeous, princess," Jordan chirps, beaming. "Illéa will love you."
"They might not like my choice of partner—" I start, nervousness bubbling up again, but Hannah gives me an insistent "shh" and all three girls step forward to embrace me.
"Nobody will care," Jordan points out. "Smile. You're getting a selection. You want to look super hot so all the girls love you."
"Thanks, Jordan, and thanks, girls," I say, smiling like Jordan told me to, and then comes a knock at the door, which Wendy rushes over to open. Ahren walks in, in a neat dress shirt and a pair of black dress pants.
"My god, sister, you look hideous," her twin says, making a face. "Especially your height. You're naturally shorter, it should stay that way."
"I relax at the sight of Ahren, and my forced smile becomes a real one. "I suppose I'll have to spend another five hours choosing another dress, then, if I look that ugly." Ahren's teasing expression becomes one of alarm, and I laugh, walking over to him and giving him a hug.
"You okay?" Ahren mumbles, and I nod. He holds me for a few moments before pulling back, smiling at me, and I try matching his smile, despite how uneasy I feel.
"Good luck, Miss Eadlyn," Wendy says, speaking for the first time in a while.
"Thanks, Wen," I say, and Ahren gives the girls a little wave goodbye before leading me out of my room and over to the room where the announcement's being held.
Mum and dad are there, dad in a discussion with the camera crew and mum standing next to him, and I smile as I see them. The host of the Illéa Capital Report is there too. The job's now held by a woman named Cynthia, happy and bright and bubbly, and now, coming over to greet me and my brother.
"Princess!" She exclaims, kissing both my cheeks and pulling me into a hug before I can protest. Ahren smirks, and then she lets go of me and turns to him, embracing him too, and it's my turn to grin at his discomfort.
"Your parents have told me all about your decision," Cynthia gushes as she steps away from Ahren, turning back to me. "And I'll have you know that I'm perfectly okay with it, it doesn't matter, really; my aunt was gay, too, you know—"
"No," I interrupt before she can go on, "I don't know, and it doesn't matter, like you said."
She's surprised that I interrupted her, but smiles and says "of course," before going back to the cameramen to fuss over lighting and camera angles and… camera-y stuff.
"No need to be rude, sister," Ahren chides, but shuts up when he sees my stormy expression. This was what I was worried about with coming out - of people 'reassuring' me that they were 'okay with who i am' because 'it doesn't matter, and—' No. No 'and's. It doesn't matter. So don't say anything about it. Mum and dad seem to have finished talking to the film crew, and come over to hug us both.
"You still okay about this?" Dad, who's giving the announcement, asks me gently, and I nod. The more people ask me that, the more I'm confident with my answer
"You look gorgeous," mum tells me, smiling. "And so do you, Ahren. You both look incredibly grown up."
"Good," I say, and Ahren grins.
Cynthia motions for us to come over, and all four of us do; she points at us and tells us where and how to sit on a couch she's prepared for us, and I'm bored out of my mind by the time they start filming the report, which is probably a good thing, because I'm not as nervous as I might've been when dad makes the announcement. It's quick, and simple - "a selection of thirty-five girls will be taking place in a few weeks. Normally, the firstborn son will host this selection, but instead, our firstborn CHILD, our daughter, has chosen to do so, and she was perfectly fine to stick with the girls"or something like that, and I'm in a daze when mum leads me out of the room.
"The whole country knows now," I say, trying to absorb the shock of it.
"Yes, but they will accept it," says mum. "They have accepted the removal of the castes, they have proven that they can go through anything, now. And like your brother said, it doesn't matter."
I smile at her, and she beams back.
There is shock at first, like with my parents. Magazines and media pounce on the news like lions, vying for interviews, comments, photos… Anything. Rumors are spread of girls being seen sneaking into the castle, which is absolutely ridiculous, and the application forms for the selection are sent out. I'm so worried that nobody would apply, but girls do; a few days after they are sent, applications start flooding back in, and Ahren and I throw a small party with the maids to celebrate. The castle bursts into preparations, and the media finally joins the excitement, boasting that this would be the most thrilling selection yet, and Wendy presents every article to me with pride.
A few weeks later, the girls are chosen and planes fly out to each province to collect them, and my maids order an unimaginable amount of fabric to sew the most gorgeous dresses for me to wear. The day of the commencement of the selection is soon upon me, and my maids spend hours washing, shaving, cleaning, plucking and dressing me until even Jordan is whistling when she sees the product of their work.
"Damn, princess," she says, looking me up and down. "You look hot."
"Thanks to you lot," I say, smiling so hard i must look like a complete idiot.
Mum comes to collect me this time, in a dress of pale blue that goes nicely with mine of pale gray, and leads me to the hallway. I hold her hand tightly, and she squeezes it. She's smiling as much as I am, and when I see them, dad and Ahren are too; they're all so happy for me, and as a family we are bursting with joy.
The palace doors open and the first lot of girls come in, some in plain clothes and others dressed up more. I can still see the outlines of the castes - it hasn't been long since their removal, and there will always be a difference between the rich and the poor - but I don't care, not one bit.
My selection has started, and I feel like jumping up and down and shrieking like an idiot.