Chapter Three
Saturday, April 6th
"Remmy!" His mother's southern accent rings through his thin bedroom door. She jiggles on the doorknob, "You have mail."
"Just set it on the table."
"But it's from the palace!"
Remmy, halfway through getting ready, opens the door, "Is this about the selection?"
"What else could it be about Remington?" She cups his face; the letter and form still in her hands.
"Give me the letter mother."
"Whatever Remmy," His mother lets it fall to the ground, "You better sign up."
She walks off to another part of the manor. Remmy picks up the letter and continues getting dressed. He buttons up his shirt, taking his time.
Once he's finished, Remmy heads for the letter.
Dear Remington Carlisle,
"God that's extremely formal."
He quickly scans over the rest of the letter. Most of its junk his parents taught him to do when they're trying to impress people.
Remmy combs his hair down, grabs the form, puts on his jacket and walks to his car.
Getting in and turning the radio on low, he calls his best friend while heading towards work.
"Hey Remmy," she says, "What do you need at eight am?"
"I could go for strawberry milk."
"Why did you call me Remington?" She asks, slightly exasperated, "I will see you in fifteen minutes."
"Guess you're feisty today," Remmy comments, "I was wondering if you'd hate me if I left the shop to you while I participated in the selected?"
"So are they letting in people like you?"
"What do you mean by that Megan?"
"Loveless."
"Hey!" Remmy interjects.
Megan replies, "I'm not the one who's never been in a relationship."
"Someone has the sass on full blast today."
"So Remmy, are you thinking about going to Angeles?"
"Well yeah," Remmy answers, "It's a chance of a lifetime, Megan!"
"Tell me if you get in you big oaf," Megan replies.
Remmy laughs, "Oh, you'll know."
The knock opens the door with a loud creak.
Finn jerks his head up, making the hood fall off his head. He appears immediately.
"There you are Finneas."
His sister, now unfazed by his sudden reappearance in front of her, tosses him the envelope.
"I'll read it later Ana," he says, heading to grab a textbook.
"Read it now please!"
"Fine." Finn plops back down on his bed. Ana jumps on it too, looking over his shoulder.
Dear Finneas Maddox Ansel, Legacy of Hades.
"This is really formal."
"Yeah Ana," He says, readjusting his bangs, "It's from the palace."
He reads the rest of the letter aloud, ignoring the form for now.
"So are you going to do it?" Ana asks, she's practically bouncing around the room.
Finn looks over the letter again, "I'll see."
"Please, for me?"
"I'll look into it, Ana." Finn puts the hood back on his head. Suddenly turning invisible he tells her, "I have to decide later, okay?"
"Fine, Finn."
She leaves his room and shuts back the door.
Finn, in a moment of curiosity, searches 'Selena Selection' on his phone.
He clicks on the first link he sees.
Another Selection; Another Palace Full of Little Godlings
S. Y. Lea
Once again, the royal family needs to prove to the world their legacies are better than the normal people of Illéa-Olympia. As you may all know, Princess Selena will soon hold a Selection to find her a spouse. Eligible legacies from all around the country will be able to be part of this masquerade; us fellow citizens will only be able to watch them court the heir to the throne. This leads us to the real question here: are we even citizen of this country, or only the slaves to the legacies?
"Gods," He scratches his arm while muttering to himself, "So, there's only going to beー there's only going to be一 there's only going to be legacies. Yeah, there's only going to be legacies."
"I'm going to do it." Finn gets up to grab a pencil, "Yeah, I'm going to do it. I'm going to join the selection."
"No! No! No! Chaine! Chaine!" The instructor is snappy, demanding perfection for her students, "Again!"
Vera tunes out the instructor and the music. She ignores the other dancers around her.
Out of character for her, the selection is the only thing on her mind is the selection.
'I've been invited to attend Princess Selena's Selection.' Her moves aren't in sync with the group.
"Vera Monroe!" Her instructor bangs her cane twice, signaling for everything to stop, "Pay attention! We must get this right! You will not hold us back!"
Shaking her head, Vera replies, "I won't Madame."
"You better not." The instructor hits her cane thrice on the floor and everything starts again.
The dancers are aligned and the music guides them.
"Do this dance well ladies," The instructor tells them, "Today's class determines whether or not you get a lead or become a corps de ballet!"
Vera puts away thoughts on the selection and follows the music. While Vera hasn't been a lead, she has gotten a few good roles. She isn't always in the background like the corps de ballets.
"From the top!" Her cane once again signals what happens.
The routine was a decently short one considering it was a small production for a grade. It'd only be shown to surrounding children's schools.
Vera, clearing her mind, is able to perform it successfully. Nobody made any major messes during the run through.
An alarm goes off, signaling that the class is over.
"Practice people!" Their instructor says as they head to pack up, "This production will not fail because of lazy dancers!"
Vera digs for the form at the bottom of her bag. Leaving the studio and into a common area inside the dance facility, she sits at an empty table, going to fill out the form she's received.
By the time Nyssa returns to her boss' house, she's sitting upon an expensive table with two letters in her hand, "We have mail!" She slightly singsongs while she continues, "It's from the Royal Family."
"Hand me it." She catches the envelope being tossed at her.
Dear Nyssa Irina Galanis, Legacy of Artemis,
Her boss and closest friend asks her, "So Nyssa, are you applying?"
"And leave you here unprotected?"
"I can hire a new bodyguard for a bit."
Nyssa leans against the island across from Penelope.
Nyssa replies, "I guess that means you aren't applying?"
"Nah," she replies, folding her letter back up, "I don't swing that way."
"You would've had me fooled." Nyssa heads around to the fridge, "Do you want anything?"
She opens the fridge door to notify her of what they have, "All we have is vodka and cranberry juice tough."
"Cranberry juice," Penelope mutters, "Disgusting."
"I'll take that as you want vodka," Nyssa smirks while pouring their drinks.
Penelope hops down, grabbing her drink and leaning against the island, "You never answered my question."
"I'll have to ask Artemis about it though I'm sure she'd be alright with it."
"That's the spirit, Nyssa!" Penelope takes a long drink, "Get out there and have some fun!"
Nyssa gives out a half-hearted chuckle and takes a drink of the cranberry juice with Penelope.