.
.
.
"Welcome back to the Illéa Capital Report, I'm your host, Barton Allory," the man announced in a voice too loud for any normal person and flash of glittering teeth. "Tonight, I have the pleasure of speaking with our royal family."
Everett, Cal and their parents all waved to the camera on cue.
"After today's shocking announcement, I'm sure everyone wants to hear from our very own heir to the throne, Prince Everett Schreave!"
Everett smirked a little for the sake of the camera. Oh, how he was regretting remaining sober for this. Already he was craving a drink.
Barton turned to Everett, his smile wide and perfect. "Well, it's an honor to be here tonight with you, Prince Everett."
"Likewise."
"Oh, effortless as always, Your Highness," Barton winked.
Everett nearly wanted to laugh at how far from the truth that was. He subtly readjusted his suit jacket as sweat began bead at the top of his spine. The lights were punishingly bright and hot, and he was quickly becoming uncomfortably warm.
"And you're charming as ever, Barton," Everett replied, smiling a little despite his discomfort.
Barton had that aura around him that just made it so easy to banter, very charismatic. It was easy to talk with him, which was probably what made him such a good host. He was new, if Everett remembered correctly, this was only his third year as host of the Report.
"I'm flattered," Barton laughed. "But let's not beat around the bush. Since your father's announcement this morning, I know the whole nation is wondering... How are you feeling about this Selection?"
Everett's eyes flickered to his parents, sitting on the chairs next to him. His mother smiled encouragingly and his father glared dangerously. Mess this up, his eyes seemed to say. Mess this up, I dare you.
Everett turned back to Barton and managed a faint smile. His heart was racing in his chest, and his knuckles whitened as his hand tightened around the arm of his chair,
"You know, I'm gonna be king at some point, and I figure it's about time I settle down. Find someone to share this responsibility with. What's a king without a queen, huh?" Everett forced out. Each word was carefully crafted by his father, handed to him on an index card for him to memorize in the car while they drove over. He hated it with a sickening passion how foolish and plastic he sounded.
"As I've heard of your reputation, you're not normally inclined to settle down. What changed your mind?" Barton asked. Everett idly wondered if it hurt his cheeks to smile that wide for so long.
"I know how to have fun, Barton, but even I'm looking for love," Everett said, hating every word that came out of his mouth. It was cheesy and stupid and a total lie, but from his father's nod of appreciation in his peripheral, it was the right thing to say.
"Good to know. Now, I'm sure all the Selection-hopefuls watching want to know the answer to this next question, so listen up ladies! What are you looking for in your ideal partner?" Barton asked, pale eyes gleaming as he leaned forward.
Everett looked back to his mother, and he faltered. She looked interested in what he had to say, and whatever silly pre-written trope he was about to spew died in his mouth.
"Someone to trust," was all he said.
His father's eyes glinted dangerously; obviously the fact that he had strayed from the approved script was not lost on him, but he couldn't comment while they were on live television, thank god. Still, his mother didn't quite conceal her smile, and a rush of pride went through him. Whatever beating he'd get from his father later, it was worth it. Even this small rebellion gave him a sense of satisfaction.
"Alright folks! You heard it here first, if you're thinking of entering the Selection, you're going to want to be trustworthy!"
That was all Everett heard before he stopped listening, somehow unable to look away from where his mother smiled gently at him.
For some reason he felt detached from the moment, like he was hearing things from the other side of a wall. Everything was bright and fuzzy, making him look down to avoid the lights.
"Alright, now does the family have any advice for Everett?" Barton asked, looking to Oriana and Jonathan.
"We're sure Everett will find his perfect match in this process and make his country proud," Jonathan said in an iron-calm tone. Anyone else would have heard a collected, relaxed man, but Everett could hear the storm simmering under his words.
"We want him to trust his heart in this process and find love," Oriana added kindly, in stark contrast to his father.
"Anything to add, Prince Callum?" Barton asked, turning his eyes on Cal.
"Not really. My brother has great instincts, so I'm sure he'll know who is right for him," Cal smiled politely, poised as always. Still, the tension in both his and Oriana's body language told Everett that all three of them were keenly aware of Jonathan's fury.
"Thank you, Your Highnesses, it's always a pleasure," Barton nodded, and they chorused their acknowledgment, flashing gracious smiles.
The host launched into his normal ending spiel, but Everett tuned him out, his eyes trained on the lightbulb marked, 'On air'. His heart was pounding in his ears, and his breath felt strangely short.
The light turned off, signaling they were off air and Everett stood up, ready to escape the camera.
Jonathan stalked away immediately, muttering curses under his breath, and Everett knew he was in for it once they reached the palace.
"You did great, Everett," his mother said placatingly, eyes fond and proud, but he couldn't manage a smile.
"I need a drink," he announced instead, and an attendant rushed forward with a glass.
When he looked back, the pleasure had faded from Oriana's eyes and she was turning away.
...
Three days later
"The girls this year are beautiful."
Everett looked up as his mother sat down across from him.
"Is that so," he mused, eyebrow cocked. "And how would you know?"
"Your father asked me for a little help on deciding which girls to accept," Oriana smiled.
"Yes, but the girls are beautiful every year," Everett reminded her. "Let's just hope they're not half as boring as they've been some years."
Oriana tutted, shaking her head. "You're so cynical. I'm sure they'll be lovely."
Everett just grunted. He doubted anyone who entered this foolish competition to marry someone they didn't know could be that lovely. Most of them were probably just caste-climbers.
"Anyway, the reason I came down here is I need to brief you on some of the etiquette for when the girls are here," she said.
"Alright, shoot."
"Well, first of all, you'll need to call each girl 'Lady' and then her name. I was Lady Oriana once upon a time," his mother smiled nostalgically.
"There's no way I'm going to remember to do that, but fine," Everett shrugged. "What else?"
"You should talk with the girls as much as you can, and if you find someone who seems interesting to you, you may take her out on a date," Oriana explained. "Try not to sleep with anyone, please."
"Yeah, yeah. But when's the first elimination?" Everett asked, leaning forward.
Oriana frowned. "Don't look so excited, Everett."
"When. Is. It."
She sighed deeply, shaking her head. "Your father would like the first one made by the second day, for the initial root-outs. The next one after that will be in two weeks."
"Excellent," Everett smiled to himself, already fantasizing about eliminating girls as fast as possible. The sooner all of this could be over, the better.
"Everett," Oriana snapped, her eyes gleaming. "You have to give them a chance! Don't be cruel. I was one of those girls once, and I know how it feels."
He blinked, surprised by her sudden flare of anger. "Okay, okay. No more than five the first elimination, I promise."
"Good," Oriana smiled benevolently, all traces of upset gone as she patted his hand. "I know you'll make me proud."
She stood up to leave, but paused in the doorway to speak over her shoulder. "By the way, I had your quarters searched for alcohol and cigarettes, and everyone has been instructed to deny you such things, should you request them."
Everett didn't process her words until she had disappeared out the door. Then he jumped out of his chair.
"Wait, what?" He shouted after her. "Mother, come back here!"
"It's for the best dear. Be strong!"
Her laugh was silvery and bright as she escaped, leaving him with his jaw hanging open.
"I expected this from Father, but I thought I could trust you!" He called indignantly, shaking his head.
All jokes aside, a wave of stress settled on Everett's shoulders. Damn, this was going to be hard. He really had to get himself together now.
Deal with thirty five girls and withdrawal? He rubbed his eyes and prepared himself for a long year.
...
One week later
Everett looked up sharply as a timid knock sounded at his door.
"Who is it?"
Cal peeked in shyly, peering out from behind blond bangs. "Can I come in?"
Everett's first thought was to turn him away, but then his mind flashed back to Oriana's words. Reluctantly, he waved his brother in, if only to please her.
"What do you want?" He asked, trying not to let his voice sound flat. Cal looked encouraged by his neutral tone of voice, and shook his bangs out of his sea-green eyes.
"Well, they're announcing the Selected tonight on the Report," Cal said, standing awkwardly in the doorway. "I just wanted to say good luck."
A sarcastic retort rose to his lips, but Everett shut it down just in time, instead offering a forced smile. "Thanks, I guess."
"You don't have to pretend you're excited. I know you're not," Cal mumbled, cheeks flushing. "I would feel really overwhelmed if I were you."
A strange feeling of bonding seemed to come between the two, and Everett reassessed his younger brother.
"Yeah, I'm not thrilled about it. Plus, Mom and Dad are making me go sober," Everett said, leaning back in his seat. "It's gonna be a long year."
"Just throw parties, you can have champagne and stuff," Cal advised.
Everett chuckled. "I doubt our parents would let me have any. They're afraid I'm going to go insane after one drink."
Cal winced. "Well, in the past-,"
"Easy there, Cal. I was just starting to kinda like you." The words were a clear warning, but he preserved the easy air of joking in them so as not to sound too threatening.
The younger boy laughed a little, running his fingers through his hair. "Sorry."
"'S'alright," Everett shrugged. "You excited about the girls coming?"
The crimson blush that spread up Cal's neck and ears was enough to get Everett to laugh loudly.
"Um, I don't know," The younger boy stuttered. "I'm...I don't really know how to talk to girls. And it's your Selection anyway."
"Aw, ease up, little brother," Everett snickered. "I can only pick one of thirty five. You're more than welcome to help yourself to the leftovers."
"Don't be crude," Cal muttered, but he was smiling. "I'm only seventeen, and Mom and Dad will probably make me have my own Selection. Or marry me off to some princess in Switzerland."
"Probably," Everett agreed. "But seriously. Feel free to talk to the girls, it's the closest thing you'll ever get to dating."
Cal just looked down, obvious unsure about the idea.
"C'mon, it's easy," Everett grinned. "You need some tips?"
"I guess." The other prince looked about ready to sink into the ground and disappear.
"Girls love confidence. Know who you are, and be the best version of yourself. For you, you're smart. Be smart, feel proud of how smart you are," Everett explained, leaning forward. "That's your thing, the thing that makes you who you are. And girls love a guy who knows himself."
Cal listened carefully and nodded when he was finished.
"I guess that makes sense," he replied. "What your thing?"
Everett smirked. "Me? I'm a trouble-making bad boy with a pretty face, a throne, and a lot of money. Girls eat that stuff up."
Cal chuckled, shaking his head. "You're ridiculous."
"Hey, whatever works man," Everett shrugged. "You go get them with your big brain. Impressive them with...trivia, or whatever."
It occurred to Everett that he had never actually asked what Cal read about, but he figured he'd ask another time.
"I think we're going to head out to the Report soon, and that's enough bonding for one day," Everett said, making a shooing motion. "Go get dressed, Cal. Gotta look good for the ladies."
Cal went a spectacular shade of scarlet, and made his hurried escape.
"Go get em, tiger!" Everett called after him, smiling widely.
...
Five minutes until they went on air. Five minutes. Four minutes, fifty nine seconds. Fifty eight seconds.
Everett paced back and forth, adjusting his emerald tie. He felt choked and trapped as the minutes counted down. For the first time in this whole process, Everett felt cripplingly nervous.
Cal could be seen fidgeting nervously in front of a mirror and trying to get his white-blond curls to lay neatly.
His father looked calm as always, but Oriana was readjusting the heavy sapphire necklace resting on her collarbone.
Even Barton looked nervous, buttoning and unbuttoning his suit jacket as he talked rapidly into an earpiece. It was his first time announcing a Selection, Everett realized.
Everett scratched at the back of his head, feeling his skin crawl. He could really use a smoke right now.
Instead, Everett checked the closest mirror for how he looked. The bruise on his jaw had faded a lot and had been liberally coated in makeup to cover it, but he was still having trouble opening his mouth without pain. He shifted his jaw just to check, and as expected, it throbbed. Nevertheless, it had improved somewhat.
Three minutes and counting.
His heart was racing in his chest, and he took slow breaths to try and counter it. He was unfamiliar with the nerves coating the inside of his chest and causing his palms to pool with sweat. Pull yourself together, a voice in his head commanded sharply, sounding much too similar to his father.
Someone came to stand next to him, and when he looked up, Cal was standing there, smiling hesitantly.
"Nervous?" His brother asked quietly, hesitantly. He was obviously still unsure on where their relationship was and how they stood, but he was willing to try.
Everett was so on edge he had half a mind to snap at the other boy and say something cutting and mean, but then he stopped himself. He didn't want to end up like his father, after all.
"I dunno. No. Maybe," he said, voice tight.
"So that's a yeah?" Cal teased just a little.
It summoned a bit of forced amusement from him and Everett let out a harsh bark of laughter. "Yeah. I mean, this is my whole future being announced."
"It's gonna be fine."
"Sure. I know. It's gonna be fine," Everett repeated. He desperately wished the things he was saying were true
"Two minutes until air time!"
The warning shout caused Everett to start violently, and he cursed loudly.
"Hey. You're going to be fine," Cal reassured him, voice steady and even for once. For a moment, Everett almost believed him.
And then a worker ushered him onto the couch and the lights went up.
This is it.
.
.
.
Alright, the stage is set for the girls to make their debuts next chapter! Thanks to everyone who sent in a girl already, I really appreciate the support! If you haven't submitted, please make sure you do. I can hardly run a selection on seven girls, can I? I hope you all are as excited as I am, and I look forward to seeing you all on the next chapter!