I can feel the fabric of my dress vibrating from the tremor in my hands. I direct my face to stay poised as I've learnt and keep my eyes trained to the queen, her chestnut eyes dancing with warmth. I feel the fake in my lips as they curl into a sort of smile while i suck on the inside of me cheek. My hands begin to itch from the sudden sweat so I gracefully lace them together. At he edge of my vision, I see a bright-faced Nicolette, scoop up her dress and saunter forward into the light swarmed entrance, I immediately follow.

"Princess Nicolette!" King Clarkson smiles, his voice echoing off all corners of the room, but being overthrown by my pulse against my ears. He barely recognises I'm here as he accepts Nics outstretched hand and lays an awkward kiss against it. While I watch, I notice the way his eye crinkles are more pronounced than the last time I saw him, his body lanky under the white suit.

Lazily, his eyes flicker to mine as he straightens up, releasing Nic. My stomach lurches around as I'm met with the bleak iciness that looms behind the colour of his eyes. The snide smile that tinges the corners of his mouth sets me off, but pursing my lips, I smile back. "Your Majesty," Biting back the urge to laugh, I dig into a curtsy, glaring up at him from beneath my eyelashes.

"Lady America," he drawls, his despise evident. The lighting from the windows draws out the thinness of his hair and the sags lulling under his eyes.

Humoured, I cut my politeness short and stand, ignoring his outstretched hand. "Lovely to see you again," I comment.

"Wish I could say the same," he challenges and I can literally feel Amberly's eyes burn into her husbands head.

Another strong current of humour washes over me but I can't restrain it. A short chuckle escapes through my lips, "At least one of us in this conversation is honest," I say euphorically, remembering the way he once made me cower.

"America!" Nic hisses next to me, looking to her, I see the amusement beneath her raging look.

"That's quite enough Clarkson," Amberly commands her husband. I cock my head to the side as the king fires me a killing glance and turns back to his wife.

"We're just talking darling."

"Of course," she says clearly disbelievingly. Slicing past her husband she glides towards us. The sound of her heels vibrates across the hollow atmosphere.

"Wonderful to see you two ladies. It's been too long," She reaches of Nic, bringing her in for a short embrace. Then doing the same with me. Her slight hand cups my back and a dense whiff of lavender flutters from the ringlets in her hair. Her next words against my ear take my by surprise, "Haven't lost your sharp tongue have you? I love it."

Over her shoulder I watch as the chandelier dances shadows across the adorned walls. I begin to wonder where the other Selected are and my eyes immediately dart to the women's room. The cloak of humour disintegrates and my nerves take hold, chilling my body to the core.

Leaning back with her hands firmly on my arms, the queen takes in my sudden anxiety, "Don't be nervous." She whispers and offers me a teasing wink. Just as her husband did, minus the wicked stare, she turns and joins him by the staircase.

A familiar voice weakens my restraint, focusing my gaze on its owner. Dark hair the shines under the light and chocolate brown eyes glistening like a gem. I feel a lump retract up my throat and settle against the back of my mouth. Has it really been 3 years since I've clearly heard his voice without the crackle of the television? "Princess Nicolette, tell me; How was your journey?"

"Pristine, Prince Maxon. Thank you," My best friend replies in a deep curtsy.

A quaking silence occurs where Maxons eyes direct to mine and I urge to tear mine away, which I do. "Lady America," He nods, his honey blonde hair staying rigid against his head. His eyes suddenly avoiding anything to do with me.

"Your Highness," I completely ignore the flared nose and terse lips I get from the king after I don't properly acknowledge his son.

Linked at the hip with Maxon is Kriss. Her dark hair slung in thick curls cascading down her back, mingling with the sequins of her dress. An unnerving tinge of jealous hits me. A feeling I've been avidly avoiding. Pictures dance before my open eyes of the night I first met him. How rude I was in the gardens and how sweetly sour he was. I remember the confusion I suffered those few weeks, the hatred I felt towards myself for hurting Maxon and Aspen.

A guard with thick red hair, strolls from one of the empty hallways towards the king, whispering urgently into his ear. "I'll see you at dinner," Clarkson says over his shoulder as he rushes side by side with the guard up the stairs. The glossy shoes tapping rhymically off the marble stairs.

Amberly watches sombrely after her husband, her plush lips parted. The thunderous crack of the door after the king jerks her attention to her son, "Will you be at dinner?" She asks almost anxiously.

Unlatching himself from clingy Kriss, Maxon's eyes ease with comfort towards his mother, his slender finger reaching out for her arm, "Of course mother. But right now I have to speak with father."

With that, he plants a kiss on his mother's cheek, he swiftly rushes to join his father.

With the four of us left, I can actually feel the nerves unhitching themselves from me.

"The Women's Room?" Kriss offers, overlooking the awkward smile upon the Queen and hers face; Her gloved arm indicating to my right.

I steal a questioning glance with Nic but she seems as oblivious as me, she just minutely shrugs and graciously excepts Kriss' offer. The queens eyes linger back to the hall were her husband and son disappeared to with a longing look in her eyes. I stand staring as Kriss and Nic hover awkwardly by each other, "Your Majesty?" I ask, "Is everything okay?"

Like lightening, her eyes shoot to mine, "Everything's perfect."