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Stefanie Russel, 5, Calgary
The party was in full swing when Stefanie's group was brought in, newly clad in their dresses. Hers was floor length, in a waterfall of dark blues to light blues that flattered the steely blue-grey of her eyes.
She stumbled a little in her heels, catching herself on a nearby girl, before straightening, a laugh already bubbling from her lips.
"I'm so sorry," she giggled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and making eye contact with a tall girl in dark red.
"Someone's clumsy," The girl sneered, flipping her thick curls and stalking off, shooting death glares behind her.
Stefanie was momentarily at a loss for words, lips forming words, but no sound coming out. She hadn't expected such a venomous reply. It hadn't seemed like such a big deal to her.
"Sorry," she finally mumbled after the girl's retreating form.
A girl with short, wavy chocolate curls sidled up beside her, blue eyes friendly.
"No worries," she said with a smile. "That was Magdalena, from Paloma. She's just naturally that way. I promise not all of us are that awful."
"Good, or I won't last a day," Stef grinned, pleased at this new girl's affable nature. "I'm Stefanie, from Calgary."
"Magliore, you can call me Maggie," The girl said, smoothing her hands down her dark purple dress. It tucked into a high waistline with lovely lace spreading across her collarbone to the base of her throat.
"I love your dress," Stef said honestly, smiling. "It's so bold."
Which was true, the gothic style was something Stef would never have the guts to wear. Still, it was lovely, and she admired Maggie for having the courage to wear it.
But Maggie's face contorted and she took a slight step back. "What does that mean? It's not your dress, and I like it."
Stef realized how catty her previous statement might have sounded, and her eyes widened. "No! No! That's not how I meant it, I'm so sorry. I do really love it, I just- I could never pull it off. You do, though!"
The defensive anger in Maggie's eyes died down, and her cheeks filled with a rosy hue.
"Agh, sorry," she laughed sheepishly. "That was an overreaction, my bad."
"No worries," Stef dismissed quickly, guilt pulsing through her. "I know I sounded- ugh, I'm just sorry."
The two girls exchanged a glance and then burst into laughter.
"I'm just nervous, I guess," Stef explained when their giggles died down. "I mean, a prince! Wow! I never thought I'd meet a prince."
"Me either," Maggie said earnestly. "I mean, I might have dreamed it, but-,"
They started giggling again.
"So, what did they do to you?" Leta asked, peering at her companion. "In makeovers, I mean."
Maggie laughed. "A lot! They cut five inches of my hair off and curled it. Then, of course, manicures, makeup, all that. Also they ripped every hair on my body out. Like, in places I didn't know I had hair." Stef chuckled at that. "You?"
Stef fingered her newly dark locks. "They died my hair black. Like, it was already dark brown, but now it's like, super dark. I guess I wasn't expecting it, it looks so intense."
"You stand out though," Maggie pointed out. "No one else here has such dark hair."
Stef grinned, flipping it over her shoulder. "I dunno, I guess I'm still warming up to it. Every time I look in the mirror, it takes me a second to recognize myself."
"So, Stef what do you-,"
Maggie was cut off by a stout woman in a conservative dress clearing her throat at the front of the room. "Ladies! Ladies! Your attention, please!"
Stef and Maggie exchanged a glance before facing her. The woman had a red little face pinched in displeasure, and she already looked like she was going to be problematic.
"Good morning, Selected!" The woman announced in a prim little voice. "My name is Teresa, I will be your supervisor while you stay at the palace."
Stef grinned at Maggie and leaned over to whisper in her ear, "However long that might be."
"A lady NEVER," Stef jerked away as Teresa shouted pointedly. "-speaks while her superiors are talking!"
Hot shame spread up Stef's cheeks and she ducked her head.
"Sorry!" She called, letting a curtain of dark hair cover her face. The girls around her tittered with amusement at her expense, and she blushed harder.
Maggie was scowling at Teresa, but turned when she saw Stef looking. She mouthed, "That was unfair!"
Stef just shrugged, trying not to get in trouble again. Of course the first impression she had to make with her supervisor was one of disrespect. It was her own fault for wanting to make her new friend laugh, but still.
"In a moment, the prince will be coming in here to join you." A low hum of worried murmurs broke out immediately and Stef pulled a wide-eyed expression of anxiety. "You'll be pulled aside, one by one to converse with him."
Stef felt her heart trip in her chest. "All alone?" She squeaked, looking at Maggie.
"Yes, Lady Stefanie," Teresa boomed. For someone so diminutive, she had a loud voice. And sharp ears. "All alone. If you can't face even that, you should leave now."
Okay, now she felt like she was being targeted. Her face settled into indignation, and she frowned up at Teresa.
"A lady shouldn't scowl, Lady Stefanie," Teresa advised. "Now, if I could get your attention back. As I said, in a moment, Prince Everett will join you here. You are never to address him as so. Refer to him only as Your Highness, or My Prince. Additionally, you are not to speak to him or any of the royal family without first being spoken to. Is this understood?"
There was a low murmur of agreement.
"Can you believe this?" Maggie hissed, turning to Stef. "It's like she wants us to be treated like animals."
"I don't imagine animals do a lot of speaking anyway," Stef shrugged deadpan. Then her face cracked into a smile. "I'm just kidding. But yeah, I get what you mean."
"Good luck, ladies," Teresa was saying in from of them, her beady brown eyes scrutinizing each of them individually.
Her gaze turned distasteful when it landed on Stef, and she bristled a little, annoyed and confused. What had she even done to offend Teresa so much? Plenty of other girls had been talking when she was talking!
But there was no time to think of that as the double doors to the east opened and in strode Crown Prince Everett Schreave.
...
Prince Everett Schreave
Almost immediately, Everett's eyes scanned the crowd of girls lining the room, each of them standing differently. All of them were lovely, but several of them looked forgettable. The four blondes standing in the corner of the room would never stand out in his mind.
Relax, he told himself as the girls stared at him expectantly. You don't care. Nothing matters.
"When I call your name, come join me at the table," he said flatly. "Then pray that you can impress me in the five minutes you get." He let that linger before he spoke again. "But maybe if you really make an impression, I'll extend that time."
The girls buzzed with conversation as he strode over the two chairs around the table in the corner. A vase with a single white rose in it sat in the center, and he moved it, frowning in distaste. Was that supposed to be some desperate attempt at setting the mood?
"Lady Belladonna," he read off his list, pleased she would be going first. A slender brunette with arched eyebrows sat down opposite him.
"Well?" He said, raising his eyebrows.
"Well, what?" She asked, sounding guarded.
He rolled his eyes. "Weren't you listening? I said, impress me."
She smirked, though her brown eyes sharpened dangerously.
"With all due respect," she said calmly. "I don't exist to impress you, and I'm not going to showboat just because you tell me to. Perhaps instead we could have a civilized conversation."
He snorted in amusement, a smile twisting his features despite himself. "Very well, Lady Belladonna. What do you want to talk about?"
Her expression turned pensive as she regarded him. "Haven't you ever learned how to talk to people? It's not difficult. I'll start, I'm Bella, I'm from Angeles, and I would love a cigarette right now."
"I'm Everett," he said grudgingly, deciding to play along with her. She was interesting, he liked her sharp tongue. "I'm from Angeles, and I would love to share that cigarette."
Bella clucked her tongue, feigning disapproval.
"Not a very kingly thing to say," she commented. Her tone turned mocking as she rattled out a taunting, "-Your Majesty."
He snickered. "Someone bitter? It's just a title."
"I'll make you a deal," she shrugged. "If I can just call you Everett, I'll let you call me Bella."
Confusion spread across his face. "Who said you couldn't call me Everett?"
"Teresa," Bella answered, jerking her chin at the squat woman prowling the room. "She also said not to speak until spoken to, so be ready for that."
Everett exhaled sharply, feeling irritated.
"Honestly," he muttered, shaking his head. "These people expect me to find a wife in less than a year, but they don't want you to call me by my given name? I'll never understand it."
A startled laugh jerked from Bella, like she hadn't been expecting to find him funny. "Truly a mystery."
The timer beeped warningly and Everett turned it off with a curious look over to Bella.
"That's time," he remarked, though he was in no hurry to dismiss her.
"What, you aren't going to 'extend that time'," she teased, assuming a gruff tone to imitate his voice. "Are you saying that perhaps I didn't make enough of an impression?"
He scoffed and shook his head. "Go away, Bella."
She laughed and stood up, smoothing the skirt of her dress. "Gladly, Everett."
She left without another word, and Everett consulted his list to see who was next.
"Lady Magliore," he called.
A petite girl in a dark purple dress sat opposite him. Ah yes, the girl he had speculated to be twelve. A pleasant smile sat on her open features, like she was preparing to say something cheerful, but he got there first.
"Aren't you a bit young?" He asked, arching an eyebrow.
Her smile froze and twisted to be replaced by an offended scowl of indignation. "I'm seventeen!"
He laughed at the open anger on her face. "Like I said, young."
She drew herself up to her full height in her chair, lifting her chin defiantly.
"Look, I meet the age requirements, okay? That's all that matters."
"Sounds like I've hit a nerve," he mused, watching her interestedly. "You think you can keep up with all these older girls, then?"
The huff of 'I never' that escaped her was something he had heard often. It was music to his ears.
"Just by being here, I'm proving that I can," she said pointedly, lips pursed.
His skeptical, detached expression faded to be replaced by a slight smile.
"Touché," he conceded. "So, Magliore-,"
"Maggie."
He blinked at her. "You just interrupted the Crown Prince of Illéa."
"Well, I don't like being called Magliore," she frowned. "Can't I even have my own name?"
A pang of slight guilt twisted his insides as her eyes betrayed her resignation. In the past few hours, she had probably watched every thing she had ever known disappearing around her. That had to be jarring.
"Very well," he said, taking on a stuffy accent. "As Crown Prince of Illéa, I, Everett Orian Schreave, bestow Lady Maggie with the right to her own name. With the power vested in me, it is done."
Maggie's lips curved into a slightly mollified smile and she chuckled.
"My eternal thanks, Your Highness," she said sarcastically.
He nodded. "You're welcome, and you're dismissed."
Her face fell just a little, but she nodded graciously and got to her feet.
"Lady Fallon," Everett called, leaning back in his seat so his weight was balanced on the back two legs of the chair.
A beautiful brunette with burning dark eyes sat down opposite him. He sighed heavily and lifted his gaze to her.
"So, Lady Fallon," he said. "How are you finding it in the castle?"
Frankly, he wasn't expecting much from her. She was a Seven, after all. No matter what, she'd probably be gone by the third elimination. It just wasn't plausible to marry a Seven.
She surveyed him with that piercing stare.
"No small talk, if you please, Your Majesty. It's the bane of my existence," she declared, with a flash of white teeth. He sat forward, interest piqued by her bold words.
"Oh, well if you don't mind. How would you like being my wife?" He joked, grinning at her.
Fallon tapped her chin, pretending to think about it. "Hm... depends. Will you bring me movies to watch in bed?"
He shrugged, head cocked suggestively. "I'd do it now if you wanted."
His flirtatious side was slowly making its appearance as her dark eyes seemed to laugh at him.
"I'm holding you to that," she mock-threatened, holding up a finger. "Come see me in my room tonight, and bring movies. I'll bring cookies."
"Why, Fallon," he said, eyes narrowing. "Are you tricking me into asking you on a date, you crafty girl?"
Her eyes danced. "Well, is that a yes?"
"Crafty indeed," he smirked. "And I haven't decided. I only ask the girls I'm interested in on dates."
"Well, since I'm not interesting enough for you," she said. "I guess I'll admit my defeat and return to the party."
Without even being dismissed, she got to her feet, and dipped a mocking curtsy.
"Fallon," he said after her, making her turn. "I still want the cookies."
She only shrugged and began walking away. "Then come and get them, Your Highness."
"Tease," he called after her.
"Coward," she replied, grinning.
He shook his head as she went off to chat with one of the girls. My, my, what a fiery group of girls he'd ended up with.
Unfortunately, most of the rest of them didn't prove to be so interesting. He got through at least seven girls before he found another girl that interested him at all.
"Lady Isla," he said, heaving a bored sigh.
She glided over in a pale pink dress that contrasted with her toasty skin. Dipping a graceful curtsy, she sank into the chair opposite him with similar coordination to what he'd seen his mother do. In fact, she was probably the only girl who walked in heels like she didn't even notice the added difficulty. Didn't trip, not once.
"So, Preminger," he commented, eyeing her. "Like the politician."
Her eyes flashed with something unreadable. "...Yes."
Her tone was clipped and icy, sounding displeased about the association. Sounded like there was some backstory behind the frost in her tone.
"Ooh, why so grouchy?" He teased, grinning.
"I'm not grouchy," she said, raising her eyebrows as if challenging him to disagree with that. "And I don't think it's my father that got me here, so I would like to represent myself, thanks."
Another one of those fiery girls. Everett was quickly realizing that he had a clear type. Those who questioned him, who sat up straight and bantered with him, even if it was quite sarcastically.
"A bit saucy, aren't you?" He remarked, surveying her. He tilted his head and nodded once. "Okay, out with Preminger. Let's see what Isla has to offer."
She smiled, the first one during this conversation, and inclined her head. "I hope it impresses you, Your Highness."
"I hope so too," he said, sitting back in his chair. "God knows I don't need a junior politician hijacking this thing."
She snorted, somehow managing to make even that sound delicate and tasteful.
"Believe me, neither do I," she said, a note of amusement coming into her voice.
But even as she denied it, Everett could see traces of the politician in her. The way she held herself, so poised and graceful, the subtle charm in her demeanor, the mask she was presenting to him. Her expression was carefully schooled into neutrality, her words carefully chosen before she uttered them. Whether she knew she was doing it or not, he couldn't see a single inch beyond the smile she gave him.
"That's five minutes," he said, nodding. "Thanks for your time, Lady Isla."
"Thank you," she said, getting to her feet. "I hope we can talk again soon."
Several more dreadfully boring girls passed, one of which Everett dismissed before she was finished talking. He had no interest in hearing about her little dog or the best shops in Upper Kinsdale. The ladies Cecilia, Leonie, and Sterling all caught his interest, but he was quickly becoming very bored with all of this procedure.
"Lady Magdalena," he sighed wearily, wishing he could nurse his headache with a bottle of whiskey.
Ah, yes. The girl with the snake stare. She sat down, looking up at him through thick lashes.
"Prince Everett," she replied, smirking, her voice smooth and sultry. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure. How lovely to finally meet you."
His eyes narrowed. "Oh, I'm sure."
She spread her hands guilelessly, eyes widened in innocence. "Have I done something to offend Your Highness?"
"I'm not going to beat around the bush," he said flatly, leaning forward. "I don't like you. I've heard what people say about you, and I don't trust you one bit. Tell me why I should keep you in."
She didn't seem fazed in the least by his blunt honesty, and her lips curved into a confident smile.
"Oh, guapo, you don't have to like me. Because I have a lovely little deal to offer you," she said, her voice purring a little over the Spanish word. "I've heard what people say about you, too. The irresponsible brother, you don't want to be king, yes? You just want to drink your days away and enjoy your women, hm?"
Everett was silent, unsure of where this was going.
"I can give you that," she promised him, stare hungry and intense. "You pick me? I'll take over as ruler for you. You can go back to your whiskey and parties, and I'll run Illéa. You'll get exactly what you want, no responsibility and all the wealth of a king. I'll even let you pick your romantic partners, if you like."
He was stunned. There was no other way to put it, he was shocked beyond belief. Half at the audacity of such a suggestion, half at the pure genius of the deal.
Because Magdalena was right, that was what he wanted. To pick a woman and make his mother proud, but be able to just live his life without the weight of a country on his back. Magdalena was willing to help him achieve that goal.
"Take it or leave it," Magdalena smirked, shrugging. "But I have a feeling you're going to want me around to keep your options open."
"I could have you jailed for suggesting such a thing." The sentence came out threatening and quiet. But they both knew it was a bluff.
"You won't," she said simply. "Don't take it personally, guapo. This is just a business transaction for me. And if we're doing business, you should call me Lena."
"You may leave," he said, hesitating before he met her piercing stare. "-Lena."
She grinned victoriously and dipped a shallow curtsy. "Of course, my prince."
His head was spinning as he absently called the next girl, her words echoing through his mind. There were less than half the girls left, but he could barely hear them as he blandly rushed through the remaining girls. He couldn't focus, couldn't hear them as they responded to his words.
"You all are dismissed," he said, once the last girl had met with him. They filed out of the room in a relatively orderly fashion, and Everett was left to make his decision on the first elimination. He stood up and headed out of the room, head buzzing with scraps of conversation.
Once he was safely in his room, he went down the list and mentally went through the names, picking the ones he wanted to stay.
When he read Lena's name, he paused, indecision making him hesitate.
On the one hand, he knew she couldn't be trusted, she was sneaky, and under-handed, and generally repulsive to him. On the other hand, she was prepared to hand him anything he ever wanted. She was giving him a way out.
Damn, he had to keep her.
He cursed aloud, and slammed the paper down. He'd been played.
A deep sigh escaped him, and he pinched the bridge of his nose to quell his migraine. This Selection was going to be the death of him.
...
Kalee Meyers, 4, Hansport
Kalee was glad when the prince dismissed them all. She hadn't connected with any one girl very well, and the whole thing had been stressful and tiring. She was out of practice with making friends.
As soon as she was let out, she broke away from the girls headed back to their rooms and carried on in a different direction. She didn't know where she was walking, but she let her feet carry her in a random direction as she tried to sort out her thoughts.
The primary thought in her mind was that she didn't know how her interview had gone. While she'd been as polite and friendly as possible, Prince Everett had looked far away and distracted while they were talking.
Not to mention, he didn't finish his sentences all time, sometimes trailing off in an absent, "you know...", with some airy hand-waving, whereupon his eyes always found the same figure, a curly-haired girl in a a dark red dress.
When Kalee realized he was barely listening to her explain about her dreams of being a teacher, she basically gave up trying to speak and answered all the questions with an air of defeat. At least if he wasn't listening, he wouldn't know to eliminate her.
Sighing, Kalee rubbed her arms and made an impulsive right turn. She wasn't sure where she was in the castle, but maybe if she found a guard or a maid, she could get some directions.
She walked for a while and then stopped short in front of the room before her, eyes wide.
It was a library.
A sprawling room, stacked to the high ceiling in beautiful books with gold-embossed titles. A wide smile spread across her face, and she rushed in, a bubble of excitement rising in her chest. No one appeared to be in it, and a giddy giggle spilled from her lips.
She wasn't usually so silly and excited at the presence of books, but it was a welcome sight for the blonde. Whether she would readily admit it or not, she was missing home, missing the places she knew.
Plus, from when she was little, reading had always been her passion. She loved being swept away to different worlds and learning about the one she lived in. When the written word could perfectly sum up the way she felt, shivers would travel down her spine. Learning to read from her elementary school teacher had even led her to her choice of occupation.
But even more importantly, she felt safe in the library. All of them had the same atmosphere, of calming and grounding her. They smelled of paper and ink and nostalgia, and she wouldn't prefer to be anywhere else.
She waltzed through the book shelves and selected a beautiful volume on the history of the royal family. It seemed appropriate to her situation, and she sank into a plush armchair, letting herself get lost in the words.
So lost, in fact, that she didn't hear anyone else enter, until they very nearly sat in her lap.
Instantly, Kalee was alert, her cheeks hot as they both stuttered out apologies.
And then she realized who she was asking to, and her words dried up on her tongue.
A lanky boy about her age with white-blonde curls and light green eyes stood before her, long fingers wrapped tightly around a book. He was staring at the ground, color in his sloping cheekbones, and she could see little light sun-freckles on his nose and around his long-lashed eyes.
Prince Callum Schreave, brother to Everett Schreave.
"I'm so sorry, Your Majesty," she apologized, still shocked that the composed prince from the Report was somehow this stuttering mess. "I didn't know anyone was in the library!"
He met her gaze, eyes wide. "I-it's okay. I didn't mean to startle you. I'm-,"
"Prince Callum. I know,"she said quickly, before realizing that might come off creepy. "Everyone knows. I mean, you're the prince."
He blushed, lips curving in a tiny soft smile. "Just Cal is fine. You must be one of the girls from my brother's Selection."
"Yes, I'm Kalee Meyers." There you go, Kalee. Remember how to speak so he doesn't think you're crazy. Be a normal functioning human being.
"And how are you finding it here?" He asked curiously, blinking at her.
"Oh, everything is wonderful. Well, mostly good. It's just, it doesn't feel like Prince Everett really seemed interested in me, he was kind of rude during the interview, and-," she froze, her words cutting off. God she was so stupid! She rushed to amend her statement. "Oh, I'm sorry. He's your brother, I shouldn't have said that."
He grinned at her, showing her a flash of deep dimples that never made appearance on the Report. "I-It's okay. I know firsthand how, um, difficult Everett can be. I won't tell anyone."
Somehow, Kalee found herself believing him. He had this air of magnetism, like he held a thousand secrets behind those sea-glass eyes.
"Thanks. Sorry about that, I'm just getting really stressed being here," she confessed, smiling. "All I really want to do it grab a book and curl up with my dog."
"Do you like reading?"He asked, leaning forward almost eagerly. But that would be silly, what would a prince find intriguing in a girl like her?
"I love it," she replied, eyes lighting up. "It's one of my favorite things in the whole world."
Cal grinned at her, a bright, excited smile instead of the polite, close-lipped ones from the television. "Me too! I just finished a book on World War Three. It was quite interesting. What's your favorite book?"
Kalee sat up hopefully, pleased he'd taken an interest. "It's book called Eirwen! It's about the making of the treaty between Illéa and New Asia, and how Eirwen Seylace made a difference in that."
Everyone knew Eirwen Seylace, of course. She was a legendary female leader who helped Illéa become Illéa, but ended up opposing Gregory Illea's decision to implement a monarchy. She ended up fleeing to Swendway when Gregory threatened to have her killed for her dissent, saying she was disturbing the peace of an already fragile country.
"Really fascinating," Kalee said earnestly. "I'd highly recommend it."
"I'd love to read it," Cal replied. "I'll try to find a copy someday."
An idea occurred to Kalee, and she looked to him.
"I have a copy in my room, if you like to borrow it." Her ears went red and she ducked her head, because why would a prince want to borrow her marked-up, secondhand copy? "Or not, I mean, I'm sure somewhere in this library, you could find a copy of it, i just thought- maybe since I have it on hand..."
"I'd like that," he said, smiling. "Should I stop by your room after dinner?"
"Sure," Kalee said, relieved he hadn't made fun of her offer. "So, Cal, do you have a favorite book?"
His eyes lit up and he began talking. Kalee listened as he spoke, drinking in the way his dimples caved his cheeks in, and his pale green eyes seemed to glow with life when he talked about things he cared about. Something no one could ever seen through the screen of a television.
But more than that, she watched the way his eyes stayed focused on her, truly listening when she replied to him. Everett certainly hadn't paid that much attention.
So, although all hope for Everett may have been lost, maybe Kalee had a reason to stay in the castle after all.
.
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Faster update than before, since I got so much encouragement from the reviews! See, if you let me know what you think, I'll try to write faster!
Someone suggested writing from the rets of the royal family's point of view. I don't think I'll be doing that, just because I want to keep the POVs contained to just Everett and the girls, but I'll try to get the rest f the family involved so you guys can see.
Until the next chapter!
