Hi everyone!

I wrote this because I, not unlike many of the people who I read reviews from online, was very disappointed in the end of The Heir and pretty much all of The Crown. I have decided that rather than sit completely forlorn over it, I am going to handle my disappointment by adjusting the books to be what I would have preferred. Happy to have reviews, and I might eventually be up for writing in different endings for different Selected if people seem interested in that. :)

Anyway, in my opinion, The Heir started to flounder are Chapter 29 (before that, but it was easier for me to jump in at that point), so that is where I started. Below is the re-written version that I was craving when I was reading The Heir.

Enjoy!

The Selection Series – The Heir and The Crown Re-Written

The Heir – Chapter 29

BADEN STOOD AND THEN CROSSED the hall. The midday sun was filtering in through the windows, making the space warm and covering everything with a slight hint of yellow. Even his dark skin looked brighter somehow.

"Stalking me?" I asked, trying to be playful.

"Well… it's kind of my only option if I want to be on your radar," he said, a sad smile on his face.

I resisted the urge to rub my forehead in exasperation. Surely not all men needed so much attention as these, right? Maybe that should have been a factor in determining who were allowed in the Selection to begin with? I shook my head instead, trying to reset from my attempt at being playful earlier. "I supposed it is, isn't it? I'm sorry."

Baden bit his lower lip and stared at me as though he were trying to think through what he was going to say next. "I know I'm not supposed to ask you for time together, but…"

I resisted the urge to sigh. I get it! I haven't made adequate time for all of you! Still, it was rather annoying that I had suiters here that had yet to even have one on one time with me yet, and he felt the need to practically demand time with me? Well, he was hardly demanding…

"I've been thinking a lot after the Report!," he said, casting his gaze away from my eyes and at his feet. "It's got to be crazy to help run a country and try to think up dates for us and figure out who you want to spend time with… I have no idea how I decide who made the cut out of thirty-five possible love interests."

I clasped my hands together in front of me, hoping that I didn't look as shaken as I was. I assumed he was going to complain about having the shortest date so far and hardly any time with me since, but he actually seemed to understand how hard this was for me… well, sort of. "I appreciate your understanding," I told him. "It's hardly an excuse, though, is it? Being too busy for love." The last sentence coming out of my mouth without my control.

Baden smiled at me, revealing his full white teeth. "I think I have a fix for that, if you'd like to hear it."

I tilted my head to the side with intrigue. "I'm listening…"

Baden rubbed his hands together and then fanned them out as he explained his idea. "What if came up with the ideas for the dates and submitted them to you? You could look through them and decide on the ones you like and then let us know the when and we can handle the set up. If you hate the idea for the date, you can return it to us and we get the chance to try again. You fit us into your schedule, and you don't have to spend time trying to come up with dates and figure out who is a better match."

I was fully prepared to argue, but he wasn't wrong. It would take some of the strain off of me, and I would be able to have a better idea on who to eliminate next as well. I'd also have plenty more dates to photograph and have available for the media to work with. I raised a finger to my lips, thinking over his proposal.

"And…" Baden's hands stopped moving and found their way to his pockets as he averted his eyes for another moment before returning them to mine as he spoke, "maybe you'd start to have some fun with us instead of it feeling like work."

My breath caught in my throat in a tight gasp as he said the last word. "Were you able to hear the conversation in the Woman's Room?" I hoped the sinking feeling in my chest wasn't easily readable through the expression on my face as I tried to regain my composure.

Baden let out a sad laugh. "Enough of it."

I placed my hands on the sides of my face to hide the heat from my embarrassment. "I am so sorry. I didn't mean it the way it came out. I just… it's so difficult to think up things that you might want to do and when I do something I like to do I feel selfish and I have literally nothing to take about when someone asks about my day because I can't exactly talk about the piles of reports I had to read through or the boring meetings I attended or be unbearably rude and talk about the other suiters-" I clapped a hand over my mouth when I realized that I was sharing far too much. I wasn't trying to let these suiters into my personal business and they somehow were each creeping in despite my best efforts.

Baden put his hands in front of him in surrender. "I get it. I get it," he assured me. He took a tentative step forward and carefully pulled my hand from my mouth and held it with his fingers, the warm was surprising and I had to fight the heat in my cheeks as I looked up to his face. "So let us do the hard work. We're competing for a princess here… let us be the competitors."

I fought the smile, but it couldn't be helped. "It's a wonderful idea, Baden. I'll announce it in the Men's Parlor soon."

Baden kissed my fingers and put his hand over his heart as he started down the hall toward the Men's Parlor, casting me a playful grin over his shoulder and called out, "Oh, and I hope this doesn't count as my date."

Despite the walls I put up around myself, I laughed. "No. Of course not," I told him.

I turned and made my way to the stairs, my mind returning to the way he had said work after hearing what I said in the Woman's Room to Milla Warren. If anyone else had heard it, they would likely have asked to leave…wouldn't I have done that? And it couldn't be easy to be in their shoes, held up in their temporary quarters or in the Men's Parlor that was only thrown together for them, their only company their competition and the prize practically ignoring most of them. I would take Baden's idea and I would make sure I had time to give everyone a decent date.

I'm Eadlyn Schreave, and no one in the world is as powerful as me.

I took a breath when I reached the third floor, overly aware of the sound of my heart beating and unable to stop thinking about how the suiters I haven't even met yet must be feeling right now. I hadn't even considered how they must feel seeing me kissing Kile on the cover of magazines and the papers and their competition getting dates and talking about one on one time on the Report! while they hadn't even been able to speak to me since the first day when they introduced themselves. I was suddenly aware why my behavior had been so easily painted as cruel when I dismissed the first group of suiters. Some of them had simply not made an impression strong enough for me to want them here and at the time, I had thought it was reason enough, but now I wondered who I had casually tossed out without even giving him the opportunity to tell me about himself. Was I so shallow to assume I knew these boys because I had a stack of applications and pictures sitting on a table in my room? Was I so selfish that I assumed they were here as superficially as I was?

I thought back to what Fox had said when I asked him why he put his name in the Selection. He wasn't here to have dated a princess. He wasn't here to get away from his family circumstances or fill his belly. He was here because somehow he felt a connection with me just from seeing me and he wanted the chance for me to see him. I felt dirty… on the inside. I would have Neena draw me a bath and try to wash away the horrible feeling. Was this why my people threw rotten food at me? Was this what they felt when they saw me in the papers? Was this the Queen they would soon have ruling over them? Selfish. Superficial. Cruel. Uncaring. Ugh!

"Oh!" Erik said with a slight jump and I realized that I hadn't just thought my frustrated grunt.

I composed myself and clasped my hands in front of me, attempting to wipe away whatever impression I had just left. "Please, forgive my mood," I told him. "How can I help you?" I needed to get better at this. I needed to start thinking of others before myself. I needed to stop assuming what other people wanted. I need to be a better princess…and a much better queen.

Erik pressed his lips together, unsure if he should go on. "I wanted to talk to you about Henri. He didn't send me!" he insisted, holding up a hand. "I think he'd come to you himself if he could speak on his own. But he's embarrassed." Erik swallowed. "He, uh…he told me about the kiss."

I nodded. "I figured."

"He's afraid he's crossed a line. He said something about holding on to you and that he probably should have let go, but then he didn't and-"

I shook my head, now painfully aware of the fact that I now was doing something to the suiters, one of who could be marrying me, that I hadn't hoped to do. I was making them fear me. I initiated the kiss with Henri, thinking I was communicating that I was starting to have feelings for him and instead I made him fearful that I might randomly remove him from the Selection for responding to my hints. That dirty feeling inside me grew a little and I desperately wanted to go into my room and have Neena prepare that bath for me. I forced myself to remain placid as I responded to Erik though, no need to make this any worse. "We were trying to communicate, and when the words didn't work, well, that did."

"So you're not cross with him?"

I heaved out a breath, almost laughing because the idea was so bizarre. "No. He's one of the kindest people I know. I'm not upset with him in the slightest."

Erik nodded. "Would it be alright if I told him as much?"

"Absolutely," I told him, feeling some of the dirty feeling inside me fading. Maybe keeping the Selected away from my feelings was the cause of this awful feeling? "Henri really wants it, doesn't he?" I said without thinking.

Erik shook his head. "There's no 'it'. He wants you."

Given the gross feeling I had floating inside me, it was hard to comprehend the idea, but Erik confirmed it as he went on.

"He talks of you endlessly. Each day in the Men's Parlor, I'm translating political science books to him or trying to explain the difference between the absolute monarchy you have here and the constitutional monarchy he grew up with in Swendway. He even-" Erik paused to chuckle. "He even studies the way your brothers walk and stand. He wants to be worthy of you in every way."

I swallowed, overcome by this admission. Smirking, trying to dull the feeling, I replied, "But he can't even speak to me."

"I know," he answered solemnly. "Which is why I wonder…"

"Wonder what?"

He rubbed his hand over his mouth, trying to decide if he should continue. "It's easier to learn new languages when you're a child. And it can be taught later in life, but the accent will probably always be bad. Henri simply has a difficult time retaining it. At the rate he's going, it would be years before you'd be able to carry on the most basic conversations. And the nuances of languages – slang and colloquialisms – would take years beyond that. Do you understand what that would mean?"

That I wouldn't be able to communicate with him for who knew how long. By the time the Selection should end, we still would hardly know each other.

"I do." Two small words, but they felt massive, like they were filling up the entire hallway, crushing me. When this all began, having a reason to dismiss any of the Selected would have been welcomed, and now I felt an ache in my chest at the thought that I might need to have Henri leave over something neither of us could control.

"I just thought you should know that. I wanted you to be aware of what things might look like if you had developed feelings for him, too."

"Thank you," I breathed.

"Do you?" he asked suddenly. "Have feeling for him?"

I felt like the dirty feeling was going to eat away at my insides if I didn't get it out soon. I almost couldn't bring myself to formulate an impartial response. This entire time I had been trying not to allow myself feelings for any of the Selected, and now I honestly was starting to forget why. "I'm still trying to figure out what that means," I answered honestly, deciding that it was better than trying to be political. I was alarmed at the daydream tone that my voice had taken.

Erik cleared his throat. "I'm sure you have work to do, so I'll return to Henri and let him know what we talked about."

I gave him a kind smile and stepped around him to the door of my room. I heard his feet as he walked past and as I was about to open the door, I turned to him and called out, "Erik!"

Erik turned swiftly toward my voice and looked almost excited that I had called to him. "Yes?"

"Maybe…you could leave out the part where I'm still figuring out my feelings?" I pleaded, a softness in my voice that I wasn't expecting. The last thing I could ever imagine doing was hurting someone so kind as Henri.

Erik nodded and gave me a faint smile. "It has already been forgotten, Your Highness."

I nodded a thanks and stepped into my room.

"Miss?" Neena asked as I came though the doorway.

"Hi, Neena," I said, a small crack in my voice.

"Are you all right?"

"Not exactly, but I'll get there," I told her, wondering if asking her to prepare a bath for me would be too selfish and then wondering if me wondering that was too selfish. This was going to be a lot harder than I thought. I stepped into the room and looked at the Selection forms piled on my desk.

"It might not be my place," Neena began, her hands clasped in front of her, her back a straight line as though good posture would give her courage, "but I am here if you need to talk."

I turned to her quickly, that dirty feeling inside me threatening to overcome me. "Not your place?" I asked, feeling a heaviness now that I wish I had never felt. Neena was so important to me. She was always here for me, even though she was my maid, I had full trust in her. If I were to have a best friend that wasn't Ahren, it would be her. Yet, she felt it was not her place to help me when I was clearly feeling off? How had I been so blind to this before? "Neena, that is exactly your place," I told her matter-of-factly.

Neena gave me a soft smile. "In that case, Miss," she said, straightening the front of her apron, "I think you could use a bath."

I smiled at her and nearly cried. She did know me better than most people. "Thank you."

I had a butler announce me to the Men's Parlor before he opened the door and I stepped inside, the Selected dropping everything they were doing at the moment to rush to meet me, many of them looking terrified that another mass dismissal might be happening.

"Please, relax everyone," I told them with as kind a tone as I could muster. The bath did so much to quell the dirt on my body but none of the internal turmoil I was suffering from. "If I could have everyone's attention for just a moment." Not that I didn't already have it, but that is what unselfish people did, right? They ask for attention instead of assuming no one would dare to not give it to them.

"I was presented with an idea from one of you that I feel should be adopted into the Selection rules," I announced, casting a kind smile at Baden. "From now on, you will all come up with ideas for dates that will help me to get to know you better and I will respond with a day and time for you to coordinate it. This will allow me to spend more time with each of you individually and less time trying to decide what on Earth we are going to do together."

Soft laughter came from some of the Selected, as though they were nervous, and others nodded their heads in understanding.

"I have arranged for some dates for those of you that I haven't already had one on one time with, because it seems unfair to ask you to make the first move when you haven't even gotten a chance to speak to me since the first night here," I continued. "But starting next week, I expect to have lots of date requests delivered to me."

For the rest of the week, I went on all the dates that I had strategically planned in hopes of getting more coverage in the press. Apsel's application said he played the piano, so I'd arranged for us to work on duets one morning; and in the early evening I'd walk outside with Tavish. Monday I had tea with Gunner and a photography walk with Harrison. Various other short dates with the other Selected I hadn't spent time with yet were thrown in as well, though not all of them were documented. I had to get caught up so the real dates could start.

It didn't matter that Apsel's skills were so good I praised him endlessly. And it didn't matter that the photos of Tavish and me in the garden were positively beautiful. Neither of those things, or any of the other dates, were headline material the following Monday morning.

Above the pictures of me and my dates was an entirely different story.

IT'S WORK! Screamed the headline above a candid shot of me yawning. An "exclusive source" has shared that I felt the Selection process was "more work than anything" and that "we make it look exciting." All I could think about was how badly I wanted to hurt Milla Warren.

Juxtaposing that story with the one of my weekend dates cheapened everything about them. It was a waste of effort and worse, it was visibly taking a toll on Dad. Weeks has passed, he still had no idea how to address the caste issues, and pockets of rioters were calling for the end of the monarchy.

I was failing in every possible way, and I now had even more of that sickeningly dirty feeling in my insides. How many of the Selected had read that story and thought of it as offensive to them? I should have addressed it when I made the announcement to them about the date planning being in their hands now, it would have softened the blow. Then I realized that I was mostly concerned for what people were thinking about me and not completely caring about their feelings and it made the dirty feeling grow again. No matter how hard I was trying to put others first, I was always the first one I considered in everything.

After breakfast I went to my room, annoyed that even hiding in my room to give myself time to think about things was still all about me.

I heard a knock and turned to see Kile standing at the door. I ran into his arms without a second thought.

"Hey," he said, holding me tight.

"I don't know what to do. Everything's just getting worse and worse."

He pulled back and lowered his eyes to meet mine. "Some of the guys are confused. They don't know if they're being used. Eadlyn," he continued in a whisper, presumably so Neena wouldn't hear his words, "I know our first kiss was for show. Is it all for show? If it is, you need to come clean."

I stared into his eyes. How had I ever thought he was anything less than smart and funny and handsome and kind? I didn't want to respond in a whisper, so I signaled for Neena to leave, and once she had closed the door behind her, I faced him again.

"It's complicated, Kile."

"I'm a very intelligent person. Explain." His words were calm, an invitation more than a demand.

"If you had asked me the night before everyone came, I would have said it was all a joke. But it's not anymore, not to me." The words shocked me. I'd fought caring about these boys, and I was still terrified of them getting closer. Even now, Kile was walking the edge of my comfort zone, and I was unsure how I'd manage if he pushed himself over the line.

"You matter to me," I confessed. "A lot of you do. But I'm terrified that this ends with me married.

"That doesn't male sense. Either you want this or you don't."

"That's not fair. When your name was called, did you want to participate? Would you say the same thing now?"

I didn't realize how tense he'd become until he let out a breath and closed his eyes. "Okay. I can understand that."

"It's been harder than I thought, with so many disasters along the way. And I'm not as good at showing my emotions as other girls, so it comes across like I don't care, even when I do. I like to keep things to myself. It looks bad, I know, but it's real."

He'd been around me long enough to know it was true. "You need to address this. You need to say something publicly about that story," he insisted, his eyes focused on mine.

I rubbed my temple. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. What if I somehow make it worse?"

He poked my stomach, something we hadn't done since we were children. "How can the truth make anything worse?"

Well, that confirmed all my anxieties. Admitting how much this meant to me now might also mean owning up to the origins of this particular Selection. With the way things were going, that wouldn't win me any sympathy.

He turned me around and pointed me toward my table and chairs. "Here. Let's sit for a minute."

I sat beside him, piling up some of the dress ideas I had been working on.

"Those are impressive, Eadlyn," he remarked.

I have him a weak smile. "Thank you, but it's really just a bunch of scribbles."

"Don't' do that," he said. "Don't make it seem like it's not important."

I remembered those words, and they soothed me.

Kile pulled over a handful of the pencils and started some sketches of his own.

"What are you drawing" I asked, looking at the little boxes.

"An idea I've been experimenting with. I've been reading about some of the poorer provinces. One of their bigger issues is housing right now."

"Because of the manufacturing boom?"

"Yeah." He continued to sketch, making practically perfect straight lines.

Dad did what he could to encourage more industrial growth in some of the primarily agricultural provinces. It was good for everyone if things could be processed where they were grown. But as that took off, more and more people moved to be closer to those areas, meaning not everyone had adequate housing.

"I know a little bit about how much it costs to get supplies, and I figured out that it'd be possible to build these smaller huts, basically like family cubicles, fairly inexpensively. I've been playing with the idea over the last few weeks. If there was someone I could get the design to, they might be able to implement it."

I looked at the little structure, barely as big as my bathroom, abutted against an identical box. They each had a door and a side-facing window. A little tube at the top caught rainwater, and a small bucket collected it by the door. Vents lined the top, and a small tarp jutted out in front, shading the front of the space.

"They look so tiny though."

"But they'd feel like a mansion if you were homeless."

I exhaled, thinking tat was probably true, and once again I had been thinking about me and how I wouldn't want to live in something so small. "There can't be space for a bathroom in there."

"No, but most people use facilities inside the plants. That's what I read anyway. This would be strictly for shelter, which means workers would be more rested, have better health… and there's just something special about having a place to call your own."

I watched Kile, his eyes focused on the extra details he was adding to his work. I knew that hit home for him, that he was aching for anything that truly belong to him. He pushed the paper away gently, adding it to the others.

"Not nearly as exciting as a ball gown, but that's all I know how to draw," he concluded with a laugh.

"And you do it so well."

"Eh. I just wanted to distract you for a minute, but I don't know what else to do."

I reached over and held his hand. "That you came at all is enough. I shouldn't let myself sulk too much anyway. I need to come up with a plan of action."

"Like talking about it?"

I shrugged. "Maybe. I have to speak with my dad first."

I could tell he thought I was being silly, but he didn't know what was going on. Not really. And even as someone in the know, it was hard to understand.

"Thanks for coming, Kile. I owe you one."

"You owe me two. I'm still waiting for that chat with my mom." He winked, not too upset I hadn't delivered yet.

My promise was still in the back of my head, and I'd had more than one opportunity to bring it up with Miss Marlee. But now I was the problem, not her. It was getting harder to imagine the palace without Kile around.

"Of course. I haven't forgotten."

He poked my stomach again, and I giggled. "I know."

"Let me go talk to my parents. I need to figure out what to do."

"Okay." He put an arm round me and walked me out the door, parting with me at the stairs. From there I went straight to the office, nervous about how tired Dad looked when I came in and cleared my throat.

He popped his head up from the papers, shoving the stack of them into a drawer as if I wouldn't see. "Hey, sweetie. I thought you were going to be working on the Selection side of things this week."

"Well, that was the plan, but I'm wondering if that will even be of any help right now."

He was crestfallen. "I don't know how this happened, Eadlyn. I'm sorry."

"I'm the one who should be sorry. I said those things aloud with the mayor, but I was simply venting about the work of it all. Ask Mom; she was there. Everything got twisted around."

"I already spoke to her, honey, and I'm not upset with you. I just can't understand why Milla would do that. It's like everyone is taking aim at us right now…" He kept opening his mouth like he wanted to say more, but he was so confused by the overwhelming unhappiness of the public, he didn't know where to start.

"I'm trying, Dad, but I don't think it's good enough. Which made me wonder if maybe we wanted to try something different."

He shrugged. "I'm up for most anything at the moment."

"Let's switch the focus. No one trust me right now. Let's bring Camille in for a visit and let people see how in love Ahren is with her. He always does much better in the spotlight. I can come in and talk about their influence on me, and then we can pick up with my dates being more intimate after I've had a few non-public facing ones to get me more relaxed. We'll blend one love story into another."

He stared at his desk, contemplating. "I don't know where you get some of your ideas, but that's inspired, Eadlyn. And I think Ahren will be beside himself. Let me make a call and see if she can even come before we say anything, all right?"

"Absolutely."

"I want you to plan a party for her. You two should know each other better than you do."

As if I didn't have anything else to worry about. "I'll start at once," I said, trying to beat the selfish voice in my head down. This was for Dad. This was for my country. Stop only thinking about Eadlyn!

He picked up the telephone, and I went back to my room, hoping this would be enough to get things back on the right track.

I stepped into my room and Neena was waiting for me with a stack of letters. "What is that?"

"Your date requests," Neena responded, a hint of hesitation in her voice as she held them out to me.

I sighed and stare at the letters for a few seconds before another inspired idea came to me. "Neena, would you like to help me decide how I will be distributing these dates?"

Neena smiled at me knowingly. "It would be my honor, Your Highness."