"Everyone, please have a seat." Darius Evans deep voice commanded.

The members of the Assembly took their seats at the mahogany table that was in the center of the room in the Meeting House. The Meeting House was just a one story shack, much like the School House.

"Do you know what this is about?" Tobi O'Neal whispered beside Holland.

"No, you?" She asked, her eyes going to his dark brown face.

"Like I'd know. My dad isn't the Head." He rolled his deep brown eyes.

Holland sighed but smirked at him before turning back to her father.

Darius was a tall man with broad shoulders, skin the same tone as hers but darker, black eyes, and a pointed nose. He was a kind man and a great father; also good at leading people. He was passionate for the Cause, as he put it, and had hope for a better future of Illèa and its people.

Holland loved him very much.

"Thank you all for coming to this evenings Meeting." Darius nodded at some the people in front of him, "We have information from the Southern Rebels in Kent. It appears that their plan to invade the Northern Rebels base in Hudson didn't go so well. They were ambushed by the North and either killed or taken prisoner."

The room went silent, everyone's face in a mask of shock or blank. Holland knew the Northern and Southern Rebels hated each other, knew that each one was trying to overpower the other. Sometimes the North won and sometime the South won, but lately it's been the North. Darius couldn't figure out why though, he'd spoken with other Southern Leaders and they've thought it was the technology. The North was better equipped with the latest toys; why wouldn't they be, way back they had been allies with the Royal Family. Holland wouldn't be surprised if those ties still held, the North gets better equipment in exchange for wiping out the Southerners. Seemed plausible.

"Reports say that twenty-seven were killed and thirteen were taken prisoner. The rest managed to flee in time, but that doesn't mean there still isn't a target on their backs." Darius explained somberly.

"Or ours." Tobi said, "It's what we've always known, the North is going to come down on us sooner or later. If we aren't prepared we're dead. Or worse." His voice was firm and his gaze steady on Darius.

Tobi was just as passionate about the Cause as Darius was, maybe even a little bit more. After all, his parents had been killed by Northern Rebels. This was personal for him, to anyone who lost a loved one at the hands of their enemy.

"Don't worry, Tobi," Darius assured, "the Northerners won't harm anyone here. I'll make sure of that."

"How?"

"By having a well stabled army, of course." Zelena put in, she was the Head of Combat too.

Or we could just talk to them, Holland thought but didn't say. She didn't really see the point in battle; there had to be better ways to solve problems than allowing bloodshed. But if she said that then she'd be laughed at.

"And knowing when the North decides to come after us." Darius added, "We'll be prepared and ready to fight."

"That's all I ask." Tobi crossed his arms over his chest.

"Now, onto the next," Darius picked up a sheet of paper that had been sitting on the table, "Today was Prince Nikolas Valentino's birthday."

There was a chorus of scoffs throughout the room, no one was fond of the Crown Prince of Illèa. He was just one of the reasons behind their problems. His father, King Angelo Valentino, refused to demolish the Castes after being reinforced for so many years. There had been a time, before Holland had been born, when Illèa didn't have any Castes. But instead of it being a good thing, it had been a bad thing; people were fighting and discriminating over past Caste ranks. No one could get certain jobs or go to school, all because of a number. So the current king at the time, King Albert Valentino—King Angelo's father—put the Castes back.

And with the Castes came the Rebels, South first and North second. The North were brought to put an end to the South, but that hasn't happened yet. Mostly because the South are more resilient than before.

The South won't give up until they get what they want: the Castes taken away and the King's head on a platter.

"He's turned twenty and tonight the King will be announcing the Prince's Selection." Darius said.

Holland rolled her eyes, if it's one thing she hated it was the Selection. She found it stupid and bizarre to showcase people falling in love on live TV. What could be more embarrassing or uncomfortable than to have all of Illèa watch you have your first kiss?

What was even odder was that people actually volunteered to be a part of it, they'd go on TV and make fools of themselves in front of the Royal family. From what Holland had been told, people really went all out to gain the favor of the Prince or Princess. One girl had even given King Angelo a lap dance during his Selection, Holland had felt embarrassed just hearing it. She couldn't have imagined how the King had felt.

That said, Holland felt bad for all the poor girls who will be making idiots of themselves during this year's Selection. She didn't understand how these girls could be in love with someone they've never even met?

"And we care why?" asked Anita Weston from Holland's left, her dark eyebrows raised.

Darius pressed his lips together, "We care because one of our own will be attending."

That shut Anita up, her eyes were wide and her full lips were parted. Holland agreed with her, what did her father mean by that?

"What does that mean?" Tobi asked, he leaned forward in his chair.

"It means that one of the girls here will compete in the Selection."

Holland frowned, there weren't girls in the Assembly that could compete in the Selection. A girl who was younger than twenty or older than fifteen could register. The oldest girl here was Anita, who was twenty-one, and the youngest was Holland, seventeen.

But her dad wouldn't—

"And that girl is Holland."

"Are you kidding me, Dad?" Holland practically shouted once they were alone in the Council room.

After her father had announced the shocking news—the Selection? Her? Really?—he had dismissed everyone and said they'd talk more tomorrow.

Holland had stayed back and fumed silently, she couldn't believe her father. He knew she would never go for something like this.

"Holland, this was a decision me and Vice President Monroe made. I even got a few of the other Rebel Leader's opinions. They think it's a good plan." Darius came over to stand beside her, his large hands landing on her shoulders.

"I wouldn't have mentioned you if I thought you couldn't do it." His voice calm, knowing.

Holland rolled her eyes, "Why me? Why not some other girl from here or another Rebel base?" She shrugged off his hold and took a few steps back from him. She leaned against the table, waiting for answer.

"It could only be given to someone that was on the Assembly. And the girls that are part of other bases are either too old or not old enough." He explained.

"Why couldn't Anita do it?" Holland wondered.

Her dad let out a low chuckle, "Anita? In a gown, surrounded by other women?" His eyebrow was raised skeptically.

"She could handle it. Just make sure she isn't near anything sharp."

Anita didn't get along that well with other girls, especially upper Caste girl—Fours, Threes, and Twos. Anita thought they were all the same, stuck up; prissy; whiney; and stupid. The only girls she enjoyed being around were Holland and Tanisha.

"Holland, I know you can do this." Darius said, his voice hopeful.

"Why do I have to?" She asked.

Darius let out a deep breath and took a seat in a chair, Holland did the same, she sat across from him.

"We think that the best way to get information from the palace is to have someone on the inside. A person that no one would suspect. Getting direct information has been difficult lately, the palace has stepped up their alert systems. And our equipment isn't strong enough to get passed it, yet. So, we thought it be easier to have someone pass along information from them to us.

"Give us military documents; Northern Rebel Intel; Caste plans. Anything that could help us. The Selection is the perfect opportunity for us to do that, it's inconspicuous and no one would think a Rebel would join the competition."

Darius's voice was serious, his eyes never leaving his daughter's face.

Holland bit her lip, when she heard it, it did seem important. The last time any Rebel base had invaded the palace had been a year ago. And even then they'd only gotten into the first floor of the palace. They had come to raid the King's office; word had let out that he was passing a bill that allowed citizens to rat out Rebels hiding in their provinces. They hadn't gotten the bill and it'd been passed the next day.

After that the palace had upgraded their security, the Rebels from Likely said they hadn't been able to get passed the metal walls. They were bullet-proof and couldn't be burned.

Add to the fact that the Northern Rebels were running the Southern ones out of town, and they didn't stand a chance at winning.

"Holland?" Her father's voice brought her out of her head, "If you do this for us, it would mean . . . it would give us what we've been fighting for." His voice was hard, his eyes burning with emotion.

Holland swallowed, she shifted in her chair, not sure what to say. Her father was right, if she did agree then they'd have a better and faster advantage of getting rid of the monarchy. Once and for all.

After all, the Valentinos' were the reason Holland's mother was dead.

"If I did agree," Holland started, "Aside from getting military and Northern information, what else is there?"

"Well, you could get close to the family. Nikolas, see what he has planned for his future reign. It'd help us, in the long run. Shows us what not to do when we take over." Darius mused.

"So, I gain his trust and then use his secrets to our advantage?" It was devious, no doubt.

Holland actually liked it.

"If that's what it takes. Then yes." Darius said.

"Alright," Holland stood from her seat, a smirk on her face, "I'm in."

Darius stood from his chair and walked around the table to pull Holland into a hug, "Thank you, Holland. Thank you." He kissed the top of her head and held her tightly.

"Anything for you, Dad." Holland whispered.

Anything.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Sorry that the separate sections are all mushed together, i'm still trying to figure out FF's formatting.

Anyway, please leave a review, thanks! xx

EDIT: Finally figured out how to divide up paragraphs :)