Guys! I'm so over the moon to see how you responded to this first chapter! wow! I didn't think you'd come back (for the ones who followed me on my previous SYOC Story)! you guys are so awesome, and I'm really grateful for your love and support :)

for those of you who asked about my original story I was planning on writing, I've started it, and I'm 13k words in right now, but this Selection FanFic kept invading my thoughts, and I had to write it down so it would stop bugging me^^ I'll back to my book when I finish this story^^

Spots for Characters can be reserved, of course, but don't take too long in submitting yours^^ you know how fast I write! although you're in luck since there will be a few more chapters before Isodora's Selection begins, anyway^^

Okay, without further ado...

Chapter 2

After lunch, I willed myself to go to father's office, where I knew he would be waiting for me. I limped and wobbled the whole way, having refused Officer Creed's help. Mid-way, I was regretting it, though. My ankle sent pain all the way up my thigh, and I already missed his green eyes.

"Lucy?" I called to my mother's maid who was coming out of the Queen's room.

"Yes, My Lady?" she curtsied.

"Can you please tell the Doctor to bring me crutches in the King's office?" I winced as a new throbbing pain shot up my leg.

"Right away, Princess." She ran downstairs and I hopped on my good leg – not very Lady-like, if you ask me – to father's study.

I didn't even knock, I just pushed the door open and let myself fall on the first chair I found.

"Isodora," father cried, concerned, "what on earth happened?"

Another throbbing pain shot up my leg. "I fell down the stairs an twisted my ankle. Lucy went to the Doctor to get me some crutches. I thought I could do without, but I can't. And I'm sorry, but I won't be able to wear heels while my ankle heals." – ha, that rhymes.

"Forget the heels, Isodora, your only purpose now is for you to heal. I'm giving you the week off, but I need you to be on your two feet again by Friday, for the Report."

The week off? Like in a vacation? "Thank you, father."

Lucy knocked and a valet opened the door. She curtsied to the King and gave me the crutches. I thanked her and she briskly walked away.

"Right, now all you have to do is heal," father continued. "Oh, and I don't know if you've noticed, but I posted a guard near your door."

"I did, yes." I would not question him as why it was necessary, or he would be lecturing me for an hour on security measures and so on.

"There will be three different Officers rotating every twelve hours. Officer Creed, Officer Revels, and Officer Lodge. They are your personal Guard and if you want to go outside to read a book, take a walk or ride your horse, the one on duty will escort you. Am I clear? You are not to leave these walls without protection," he warned me.

"Yes, father." What else could I say? Even if I argued, he would still have his way, so there was no use even trying.

His features softened. "Isodora, the only reason why I'm doing this is because I received a report from the General in the South that the Rebels, there, are getting more and more angry. For no apparent reason, of course, but they are doing some propaganda throughout all of Illéa for a Rebellion against the Monarchy. And I want you to be protected. These three Officers I handpicked especially for your safety are from the Elite of the Special Forces. They answer to you only, as long as your orders don't interfere with mine." He smiled, proud of his little speech.

"Very well, father," I nodded. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go let my ankle heal." I stood, hobbled with my crutches to him and lightly kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you, father." He smiled and I walked away. I went back to my room and made myself comfortable on the couch with my book. I would enjoy every minute of this 'forced' vacation. I should fall more often in the stairs, I thought.

I spent the rest of the day in my room, oblivious to the outside world. What better than a fictional world in a book to get out of your own world?

It was the end of June, but summer in Angeles had started a few months ago. I decided to spend the rest of my 'vacation' outside, with either a book, of simply to tan a little – I was too pale for my taste – and so I enjoyed the sun, with a military presence next to me, of course. It unnervered me in the beginning to have someone lurking over me at all times, but with the passing days, I got used to the Officers and forgot they were there.

On Thursday afternoon, my ankle was fully healed, but I was still 'off-duty' until Friday evening. I was reading a book on a bench, under the shade of a large oak tree, when I realized my escort was standing in the heating sun a few yards away, with his full uniform: I felt bad for him.

"Officer Lodge," I said smiling, turning around to look at him, "don't stand in the sun. Come sit on the bench in the shade." Maybe it sounded like an order, but it was an offer more than anything else.

He smiled and walked to the bench, sitting on the other side of it. "Thank you, Your Highness."

"I won't bite, you know? And please can call me Isodora."

He chuckled and came closer. "Oh, no, Your Highness. I wouldn't dare call you by your name. Your father would have me flogged," he said, in mock terror.

"Then when he's not around, you can. I'm tired of being called 'Your Highness' all the time."

"All right. Maybe I can go with 'Princess Isodora', then?"

I smiled and nodded. "Better." He nodded to my approval and I went back to my book. But I had trouble focusing because of Officer Lodge's presence. It felt impolite to just ignore him now that he was sitting next to me. I closed my book.

"Tell me, Officer," I started, "I've seen you around the Palace before you were assigned to me, haven't I?"

"Yes, I was in the King's personal Guard, until he asked me to be in yours."

"He must trust you a lot." It was not a question but a statement, and he nodded. "I'm sorry to ask, Officer, but you seem young to be in the Royal personal Guard. How old are you?" I asked a bit embarrassed.

"Don't worry, it's a good question to ask: you should know your own personal Guard, Princess. I'm 25 years old, born and raised in Angeles, and volunteered for the Army. I was good enough to try the Special Forces, and made it to the Elite. I've been in the Palace for ten months."

"And what did you do before coming in the Army? Um, you don't have to answer that, I-"

"No, it's alright." He chuckled, apparently amused by my questions. "I was a Six, a Helper, and my fiancée and I needed the money to get married and to get started." He shrugged. "She's a Five, a painter, and when we're getting married, she'll be a Two, like me." He smiled, and his gaze became distant, like he was seeing her in front of him.

"What is she like?" I softly asked, not wanting to break the spell in which he seemed to be captured by.

"Blond hair, ice blue eyes, beautiful, funny, kind, passionate about her painting,..." He stopped and shook his head to clear his mind. "I haven't seen her in weeks, though. But we're planning to get married next Christmas."

I smiled. "A Christmas wedding. I wish I had a life like yours, being able to do whatever you want, be with whoever you want, marry whoever you want." I sighed. "If the King doesn't let you off at Christmas, I'll take it upon myself that you get a forced vacation to get married," I vowed.

He chuckled. "You would do that? For a guy you just met?"

"Why not? Everyone deserves his happy ending, right? It's not only for Princesses in fairytales."

He titles his head, confused. "So you don't believe in a happy ending for normal Princesses like you, Your Highness?"

I looked at my book, trying to find the right words to say. "Not really. I have an overprotective Father that decides a lot of things for me. I have a feeling he'll even chose the next Prince Consort."

"Oh." He frowned and scratched the back of his head, making his hat tilt forward, obscuring his dark eyes. "So you're not really looking forward to your Selection?" he asked with compassion tainting his voice.

"Not in the least, and I wish Father will postpone it as long as possible. I certainly won't ask for it. Can you imagine dating thirty-five men – strangers – at the same time?"

He burst out laughing. "No, certainly not thirty-five men. Although I could see myself date thirty-five women..." he said, trying not to laugh.

I giggled. "I'm sorry, I wasn't even thinking about what I was saying." We both laughed together, and I was glad father was not around to see this.

Silence surrounded us for a minute before screams and yells came to our ears.

"Oh, here comes the twins..." Officer Lodge said with kindness in his voice. And he was right. My two little brothers came running in the gardens, wooden swords in their hands and fighting each other with terrible war cries. I laughed. I was happy to see them, because if they were in the vicinity, there was someone who was being pranked by them. I hoped it wouldn't be me, but then again, I had Officer Lodge to protect me.

But apparently, they had other ideas than pranking. They fought and raced each other all the way to the tree house, and would hide there until their valets found them. I felt bad for Garry and Simon who had to look after these two little cute monsters everyday.

"I think I should go back inside, I need to change for dinner," I announced to Officer Lodge.

"Of course, Princess. Lead the way."

I stood and walked back to my room. Ah, it felt good to walk in flats, but I had only one more day before I'd have to go back to the treacherous heels. It was a love/hate relationship I had with my shoes. They were beautiful, but dangerous.

The Officer took his place back near my door and Judy was waiting for me inside. She had already prepared an evening gown for me, so I quickly stripped my daydress and pulled on the brick red srtapless floorlength gown over my head, and let Judy zip it up in the back. I sat at my vanity table and – that was my favorite part of the day – let Judy's expert finger massage my head and fix my hair in a sophisticated bun in the nape of my neck, with pearls woven in it. I was ready too early so I read a few pages of my book.

When the clock rang half past six, I walked down strairs and entered the Dining Room, where the King and Queen were waiting for their children with some guests. Ugh, not him again. I put a graceful smile on my face and curtsied to the King and Queen of Ireland, and to their son, Prince Liam. I hated the guy. He was always flirting and fawning over me, and he had sweaty hands: it revolted me. He grabbed my hand in his and kissed the back of mine.

"Good evening, Isodora. What a pleasure to see you again," he said with his unctuous voice.

I contained a shiver and forced myself not to jerk my hand away from his, but he always held mine much longer than necessary.

"Good evening, Liam. Your sister isn't here?" I asked, trying to change the subject from me to my best friend.

"No," he apologized, still holding my hand, "Aislinn is visiting her fiancé's family in Northern Ireland. But she sends her regards."

As much as I hated Liam, I loved Aislinn. She was my only friend I had outside of these walls, and she was just a years older than me, but it was Liam the Crown Prince. If he could choose his way – and if father would permit it – he would have already asked for my hand twenty times. This was the only time I was actually glad father was keeping me for my Selection: at least I wouldn't be given to him. I smiled inside at the memory of his displeasure when father had made it clear that I wasn't for him.

He finally released my hand and we sat around the large dining table, and I had to carry on a conversation with him all evening, since he was seated next to me. Ugh. The longest dinner ever.

After dinner, the ladies always went in the sitting room to drink tea, while the men smoked cigar and drank brandy before joining us. I quickly drank my tea and excused myself with a headache to go hide in my room.

One thing that was good coming out of this surprise visit, was that they would be Guests on the Report and father wouldn't announce the Selection just yet. Every Friday I was a ball of nerves until the Report was over and I knew I had yet another week of freedom before the fateful announcement.