Chapter 10: In A Nice Dress

"Here comes the next lot. Open the doors. Over," Officer Rollins heard over the radio in his ear.

"Copy," he replied. Nodding to another guard, they grabbed the handles of the heavy wooden doors and swung them wide. They stood at attention as more guards escorted four girls across the wide courtyard.

It had been a long day and Rollins knew it would be a long few months, until all of these girls were gone. They were probably nice enough girls and he knew that the Selection was tradition and all that, but still, it was hard not to be just a tiny bit bitter when it meant extra shifts for all of the guards. Security had been tightened for the thirty five ladies; the prince had insisted on it. The older one, of course.

Officer Rollins sighed quietly as he closed the doors with a foreboding thump. Like that moment in a horror movie where the door slams shut of its own accord. Darn, what was that new movie called, the one coming out this weekend? He had meant to ask if any of the other guards were going to go see it. Ah well, not like any of them had the time now.

I can't believe I'm really here, Lucy thought to herself as she tried to take in the large sweeping palace. The pale yellow-gray stone walls and the charcoal tile roof and and the crushed shells coating the courtyard. It was all so grand.

When they were swept inside the large wooden doors, Lucy gasped audibly. She tried not to, but she did (and she could feel Lady Abigrace's eyes roll from five feet away). The weathered exterior of the palace had nothing on the inside. This… this was just magical.

To their right and left, two wide hallways stretched out, lined with windows, paintings, and crystal chandeliers. In front of them, twin white marble staircases led to a balcony where more hallways, paintings, and glittering chandeliers could be seen. Past the stairs and some marble archways, the lush green gardens peeked out through glass French doors. It seemed everything was either dark wood, shiny marble, wrought iron, or polished gold.

She only had a few moments to process it all before two women arrived and started to lead them down the hallway on the right.

"Lady Lucilia, this way please, ma'am," one of the maids said when she realized that Lucy was still gazing up at a massive chandelier.

Lady Lucilia. I like that, Lucy mused. I'm a real fairy tale.

Catching up with the others, Lucy learned that they were now passing the Dining Room, where the Ones took their meals. The Great Room, where parties and banquets were held, had been on the other side of the Grand Staircase, or so she was told.

Lucy still hadn't had her fill of crystal and marble when she found herself steered into a large room filled with people rushing about holding curling irons and hair dye, buckets of make up and piles of dresses.

"Oh, the next lot already!" said a flustered looking blonde woman in a pencil skirt. "I'm Silvia, we spoke on the phone. Over there, ladies, we need your before shots," she said gesturing vaguely towards one of the walls. She seemed distracted - whether by the pile of notes on her clipboard or the messages coming through on her handheld radio, Lucy couldn't be sure. Turning back to the girls, she continued, "Yes, over here by the screen girls. I'll be back in a moment." And with that she hurried off, muttering something about a late plane.

Lucy and the girls that she arrived with - Eloisa, Nicole, and Abigrace, if she remembered correctly - obediently went towards a screen backdrop. A peppy cameraman took their pictures, and when he was finished Lucy was once again ushered off in a new direction. Gosh, couldn't these people just sit and breathe for one moment?

Apparently not.

Lucy was pushed into a tall chair facing a little mirror. A man came up behind her and looked appraisingly at her pale face, prodding her messy hair.

"We need to talk about your image."

"Sorry, my... what?"

Evangeline took a deep breath and sank into a cushy chair. Out of habit, she ran her hands through her newly preened hair. There wasn't even a single tangle, which was a novel concept with her persistently messy brown hair. Every inch of her had been scrubbed, brushed, polished, and detangled. It had been pretty fun, if she was honest, especially the makeup bit. She hadn't had much money for makeup before. After a reporter had finished interviewing her about her new layers, makeup, and shiny silver dress, she had been pointed over to a circle of expensive looking chairs, where a few other girls were already waiting. That was where she sat now, distractedly running her hands against the smooth fabric of her dress, flattening out wrinkles that weren't there.

"Oh, look! That must be Genevieve Carlton!" a girl on the couch to Evangeline's right exclaimed, pointing across the room. Lady Shiloh, according to her silver name tag.

"Um, sorry, who's Genevieve Carlton?" the blonde sitting next to Shiloh asked.

"Seriously? You've never heard of Veni Vidi Vici?" Shiloh frowned.

The blonde - Lady Elena, apparently - looked thoughtful. "Veni vidi vici… it means 'I came, I saw, I conquered.' The phrase originates from Julius Caesar over 2,000–"

"I didn't ask for the history lesson! Veni Vidi Vici is a band. Don't they have pop music… wherever it is you're from?"

"Calgary."

"Whatever. You must live under a rock. I don't even listen to pop music that much, but I've heard her on the radio, and I've done my research. If you want to stay in this competition, maybe you should too," she lectured haughtily.

Evangeline frowned. She too had heard Veni Vidi Vici on the radio at the store where she worked, but what was this about research?

"What do you mean you've done your research?" she spoke up. Shiloh swiveled around to look at her.

"I mean that to stay in this competition, you need to know your competition. Personally, I don't think it's fair that we're up against all these celebrities," she gave a pointed look towards Elena, highlighting the blonde's apparent lack of knowledge in that department. "But since we are, I figure the more I know about them, the better. If I'm going to be in this beauty pageant, then I'm going to at least make it to the Elite."

"It sounds like you don't even want to be here," Evangeline pointed out. This girl's attitude was quickly getting on her nerves.

Shiloh's eyes narrowed. "I didn't. It was my sister's idea, signing up. And since I'm here, I'm staying."

"Well I don't see how—" Evangeline started a retort, but they were interrupted by a squeal from across the room. A brunette had tackled a girl who had just walked in, much to the dismay of the maids that were trying to do the former's makeup. The girls were now hugging and the brunette was shouting things like "I MISSED YOU SO MUCH" and "I CAN'T BELIEVE WE'RE BOTH HERE."

"Ah, that must be Amelia Semmer and Marissa Everette," Shiloh stated knowledgeably. Elena looked like she was about to ask something, but changed her mind. Shiloh continued, "They're both Twos and they were best friends until Amelia - the brunette - moved to a different province. Well, I guess they still are best friends. Somehow they both ended up in the Selection. Anyway, I read it all in the magazines."

'That's Lady Amelia to you' was the best retort Evangeline could think of, so she didn't say anything. The three of them were quiet for a while, and she took the time to inspect the other two girls.

Shiloh sported a lavender and white floral dress. She didn't seem the kind of person who would wear a flowery dress, but the fitted pencil skirt with a peplum accent made it work. She wore her long chestnut brown hair in curls down her back, and her hands rested primly in her lap. Keeping her hands still like that was something Evangeline could never do… She wondered what Shiloh had told her stylist about her 'image.' She'd probably been planning it since her name was called on the Report. Evangeline had been clueless on that front when the stylist interrogated her.

Couldn't she just be Evangeline? Well no, she decided, probably not. Just Evangeline was a Six. That girl didn't stand a chance against someone like Shiloh, who obviously had her act together. That must be why she found Shiloh so annoying. She knew what she was doing, and Evangeline didn't.

Evangeline looked over at Elena. The blonde looked down in her lap, lost in her own thoughts. Her knee length dress was dark blue taffeta, with lace covering the bodice and creating illusion sleeves. Her wavy hair was pulled back into a ponytail with a braid on one side.

It was this that Shiloh commented on next.

"Why did you let them style your hair in a ponytail?" Shiloh asked abruptly. "Ponytails don't photograph well."

Elena looked up, uncertainty written on her face. "I dunno… I thought…"

"I think it looks really nice, Elena," Evangeline interrupted, smiling brightly at her before throwing a glare at Shiloh. "Who cares about the cameras anyway? We aren't here for them."

Elena relaxed into a smile. "Thanks. Evangeline, is it? I like your dress."

"Whatever," Shiloh skulked. The other two ignored her.

"Thanks, I like it too. I never thought I could pull something like this off… but they work wonders, don't they?"

"Definitely."

Just then, Silvia walked up with a maid and one of the Selected in tow. Lady Thalia, in a dark magenta ensemble that complimented her chocolate skin, glanced at the other three girls with a bored expression and disdainfully rolled her eyes.

"Hello ladies," Silvia greeted. "So sorry to make you wait. Heather here will show you around the palace and then take you to your rooms. Dinner will be served here in the Women's Room at seven o'clock, and at eight there will be a special screening of the Illéa Report. And it's all about you!" Silvia had a way of sounding at once both chipper and strict, and it baffled Evangeline. "Your maids are already in your room to help you change and get prepared."

"Sorry, did you just say 'change'? We just got changed!" Elena asked.

"And it's only like four, right? Why do we have to get prepared for dinner three hours early?" Evangeline added. Shiloh and Thalia both gave them looks that read 'y'all are idiots.' It was certainly not appreciated on Evangeline's part, and she imagined the same could be said of Elena.

Silvia just smiled patiently. Or maybe it was a grimace. "Lady Elena, the shorter dresses you are currently wearing are called day dresses, and are to be worn for all activities during the day, including breakfast, lunch, and tea. However, longer evening gowns are to be worn to evening events such as dinner. As to your question, Lady Evangeline, the extra time is so that you may unpack or relax if you wish."

"Oh," Elena and Evangeline said together.

"Any more questions? No? Excellent. Heather will take you to your rooms now."

The maid nodded and led the girls out of the room. "That room was the Women's Room, you will be spending much of your time there during the day. Men are not allowed in without express permission, and the Queen entertains many of her guests there."

Heather kept on like this, pointing out and explaining each room they passed. She was quite nice, and kept throwing out random tidbits about the palace. Or at least vaguely related to it.

"Did you know," she was saying, "the palace was in part modeled on an art museum in France's capital. It's said the museum is so large that if you spent just one minute on each piece, it would take you two months to see everything!

Evangeline was only half paying attention, because she was busy staring at all of the paintings that they were passing. She would probably be spending the next two months inspecting all of the art here. If there was one good thing coming out of the Selection, it was that she would finally have access to real art supplies, most of which were to expensive for her to afford back home.

Soon enough they had been taken through a maze of hallways to see the Royal Library, the Dining Room, the Grand Staircase, the Great Room, the door to the Royal Gardens, the North Courtyard, the South Wing ("That's off limit's to you, my ladies"), and a bunch of other rooms Evangeline couldn't keep track of. Everything was grand and Oh-So-Capital-Letters-Royal.

Evangeline was out of her element. Six whopping castes out of her element. Lady Thalia looked like she already owned the place, Lady Shiloh took it all in stride, and even Lady Elena was content to soak it all in. Evangeline's only comfort was the beaming smiles that Elena kept throwing her saying 'isn't this amazing?'

When they were finally led up the Grand Staircase to the second floor, Evangeline leaned over to Elena and whispered, "So why did you let Shiloh talk to you like that earlier?"

Elena's grin faltered, and she shrugged. "I guess I'm just nervous about all this. I don't think it's physically possible for me to ever fit in at the palace."

"What are you talking about? You look like you were born to be a One."

"I blame the maids," Elena said with a straight face.

Evangeline giggled, and soon Elena joined her. When they recovered, Elena continued, "But really though, I'm just a farmer. I think there were more people in that room earlier than there is in all of Carseld. My hometown, that is."

"Ah, one of those one dirt road and one stoplight sort of places, huh?"

Elena snorted. "One stoplight? What, so our horses don't get in a traffic jam?"

Evangeline stared in disbelief. "You don't even use cars? Wow."

She shrugged back. "We can't really afford them, and we have no use for them. I think the family two houses down has a truck, for like, emergencies, but it isn't used much. We're small, but we're proud. Best wheat in all of Calgary, if you ask me!"

Evangeline returned Elena's smile. "Well, being the token Six and all, I don't think I'll fit in either. Maybe can not fit in together."

"You've got a deal. It'd be nice to have an ally."

Just then they turned a corner, and Evangeline noticed that Lady Shiloh wasn't with them. She must have been dropped off at her room while they were talking. Heather gestured to a door on the left that bore 'Lady Evangeline' engraved on a plaque.

"Here is your suite, Lady Evangeline, and Lady Elena, yours is just down here, past Lady Marissa's."

Elena nodded at her with a smile, and Evangeline watched them walk away before hesitantly turning the doorknob.

Even in the evening, Angeles was much warmer than Auriella's native Yukon. Staring at her own agitated expression in the mirror, she drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair. She and the other two girls from her plane had been told to wait in a small side room where three vanities had been set up, the rest of the space crowded with piles of beauty products and several racks of dresses.

"Where do you think everyone is?" Lady Willow whispered from the makeshift station next to her. Auriella just shrugged. They were alone in the stuffy room, and besides the maids that had led them in, the guards they had passed, and a single cameraman that had taken their pictures, they hadn't seen anyone. No sign of the Ones, or the other thirty-two girls for that matter.

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, the door opened to reveal a blonde woman with a clipboard, two men and a woman armed with scissors and blowdryers, a cameraman and reporter, and a flock of maids trailing behind. There wasn't much room amid the boxes and buckets for fifteen more people, but somehow they all made it in.

The blonde woman surveyed the three girls in the room. "Good evening ladies!" she said pleasantly, "so sorry to make you wait, it's been a busy busy day! I'm Silvia, we spoke on the phone? Now, we haven't got much time to turn you precious creatures into butterflies. You've already had your before pictures taken, yes? Excellent. I apologize for having to stuff you into this little room, but the Women's Room is being prepared for dinner. I'll see you there soon, after your makeovers, pictures, and interviews. Alright, Ricardo, James, and Marianne, get to work! Time is of the essence!"

The man called James and three maids pounced on Auriella. James stood her up and spun her around, inspecting her from head to toe. He muttered comments to the maids such as 'skinny,' 'good height,' 'clear skin,' and 'love the red hair.'

Eventually he nodded and said, "Alright, let's do this." Immediately, the maids grabbed her by the wrists and dragged her to a bathtub that was curtained off in the corner of the room. Auriella wasn't sure she was comfortable with them bathing her - couldn't she do that much herself? - and she wondered if she ought to say something, but the women were so focused and determined on their task that she figured she didn't have a choice in the matter. In five minutes flat, she was back in the chair, polished and lathered in lotions and orange-scented perfume, wrapped in a bathrobe and one of those black hair cutting capes.

Finally, James spoke directly to Auriella. "Okiedokie hon, let's talk about your image. What's your strategy? Shall we go for seductive Fiesty Ginger? Or light and innocent Little Red?"

"Well first of all," she laughed, "Thanks for asking. I thought you were just going to chop off my hair or something before I could say anything."

"Ahhh, so she's sassy! Keep that, honey, it just might get you noticed."

Auriella smiled. "Thanks. And to answer your question, I don't really want a big change. I'll stick with what I've got."

James smiled appraisingly. "I can do that. Fun, sassy, and confident. That's what we'll go with. So as for what you've got, you're a thin little thing, but you're fit. Nothing to worry about yet. Your biggest assets are this hair and those eyes, so we'll play them up."

"Shouldn't my biggest asset be my lovable personality?"

James chuckled. "Right again, Lady Auriella. And how does your lovable personality feel about curls and layers? A combination of those will add some volume and help your natural highlights catch the light."

"My lovable personality likes that idea."

"Excellent. Since we're short on time, we'll use the curling iron today, but you should think about a permanent curl. We've got chemicals that can do that. Anyway, let's get to it!"

James and all three maids quickly swooped in, and managed to crowd around her so that they could all work at once. James trimmed her hair into layers as one maid applied make-up, another did her nails, and the last took care of her feet. Auriella was glad she didn't have any major personal space issues.

Once her hair had been blow-dried and brushed, they got two curling irons going at once. Soon enough, her hair was finished and they led her over to a rack of dresses labeled "Lady Auriella." She was pleased to see that they'd gotten her favorite colors right; the rack was filled with short dresses in predominately pink, gold, silver, and white. James pulled out a simple, creamy white dress with a high neck and pleated skirt. Throwing it towards her, he pushed her behind a screen to change.

When Auriella came back out — finding that the dress fit perfectly — he held out a pair of gold heels and a matching gold necklace. She was still putting them on when he started pulling her towards a cameraman and a perky looking reporter. The guy with the camera took some pictures and then filmed her while the reporter asked questions about what happened in her makeover and how she felt about the Selection so far. Auriella tried her best to answer honestly and make herself seem interesting for the viewers, but really she was just trying not say anything stupid.

"You did great, hon," James assured her as if he could sense what she had been thinking. "Now let's get you changed."

"I just got changed!" Auriella exclaimed.

"Yes, for your makeover photos, but we need to get you into an evening gown for the dinner. I had a maid bring one down from your room." He shoved a pile of cream and gold fabric into the nearest maid's arms and thrust them both back behind the changing screen. "Quickly now!" he cried as the maid helped her out of one dress and into the other.

It wasn't until she was properly accessorized and her hair was pulled into a simple half-up style that she was allowed to stop and look in a mirror. When she did, she couldn't hide a silly grin. Her hair did look great in curls, and the gorgeous dress hid her lack of curves. James came up behind her in the full length mirror, and gave an approving nod at his finished masterpiece. He looked so proud, Auriella half expected to see him wipe a tear from his eye.

"With the girls earlier," he explained, "the maids did all the work and I just told them what to do, since there were so many girls… but I'm glad I got to see you through to the end, my lady. It's been a real pleasure."

Impulsively, Auriella turned around and gave him a quick hug. "Thank you, James, for everything."

"Anytime, hon. Now go get 'em," he said with a wink. "And don't you dare let all my hard work go to waste."

When she walked into what she was told was the Women's Room just a few minutes later, she found she was obviously late. Great, she sighed. On the first day, too. Thirty four well-dressed girls sat around little round tables scattered throughout the room, including the two girls that had been on Auriella's plane. The air was filled with the quiet clinking of expensive silverware against expensive plates, and the quiet chattering of a group of girls who were trying to be polite enough not to tear each other's throats out. By the looks on some of their faces, it wasn't easy.

Silvia came over to her with a curt smile that was a subtle way of saying 'It's about time!' She pointed Auriella over to an open seat at the far end of the room, and Auriella tried to ignore the suspicious looks that followed her all the way there.

The four other girls at the table stopped talking as they watched her sit down. She smiled awkwardly, and could almost feel their inspecting looks digging into her face.

Suddenly the one to her left, another redhead, stopped glaring and held out her hand with a smile. "Lady Eloisa Tremaine," she offered in a chirpy voice. "At your service!"

"Uh, hi. I'm Auriella."

"I saw that on your name tag. Yukon right? Is it super cold there?"

The two girls across from Auriella relaxed as well, introducing themselves as Lyla-from-Bankston and Cecelia-or-Cece-if-you'd-rather. She nodded at them, and looked at the last girl, to her right.

"I'm Nina," the girl said. "Why were you late?"

"My makeover went long, I guess."

"Gosh, how long were you in there?" Lyla asked.

"Not long, I only got here like two hours ago," she answered defensively.

"Oh."

"So is it cold in Yukon?" Eloisa repeated.

The rest of dinner went on in much the same way, with the four bubbly girls around her talking cheerfully but, in a way, intensely - drilling each other with questions (which Eloisa usually asked twice) and silently comparing themselves to the others. Auriella tried to fade into the background, finding their rapid-fire conversation tiring. When they got bored of asking her about why she was late, they talked about their makeovers, their home provinces, and the other Selected. At one point Lyla and Cecelia bragged about how the Queen had stopped by the Women's Room during her makeover, and Auriella was admittedly disappointed to have missed that.

Instead, she focused on the food before her. The meal was huge, much bigger than she would usually eat, but it was definitely high quality. She slowly savored the fresh strawberry salad but only nibbled on the heavy gravy-covered steak. The rest of the time, she half-listened to the girls around her and wondered how they managed to talk so much during one meal. It was amazing, really, and it wasn't even that they talked with their mouths full; Silvia would have tutted and glared with her hawk eyes from halfway across the room.

Promptly at five minutes till eight o'clock the Selected were herded over to the cushy couches on one end of the room. A large screen had been set up for their private viewing of the Illéa Capital Report. Auriella drifted away from her talkative tablemates, choosing instead to sit by some other girls that looked a bit more subdued. Lady Megan said one tame tag, Lady Lizeth the other.

Everyone hushed as the anthem played. The king and some advisors gave short announcements on various topics, and then a full forty five minutes was left to Gavril as he narrated the footage from the send-offs and makeovers.

"Lady Amelia Semmer was cheered enthusiastically by hundreds of fans… Lady Genevieve of Angeles and Lady Lizeth of Waverly both gave enchanting renditions of the national anthem at their send-off parties… Lady Evangeline had a darling moment with this young fan." The screen showed the brunette, who was sitting a few seats away from Auriella, hugging a young girl over the velvet rope at the airport.

The cameras expertly hid the thinner crowd that had welcomed Auriella's plane. Apparently she was right that they had come in hours after the rest, because there were three times as many people in the crowd for all of the other girls. But thankfully James was right - her interview wasn't too bad, and she was pleased that they had been able to include the footage on such a tight schedule. Despite getting less coverage than many of the other girls, especially the Twos, at least she didn't look bad.

By the end of the Report, some girls in the room beamed giddily, others smirked proudly, some glared at the beaming ones, and still others seemed to fade away, hoping the glares wouldn't be pointed towards them.

Auriella was just tired. She'd woken up early for her send-off, flown hours from Yukon, been put through a whirlwind makeover, and endured too-bubbly girls all through dinner. So she didn't mind at all when they were instructed to go straight up to their rooms.

The other girls seemed to know where they were going, so she followed them up the large staircase in the main entryway. The group turned right and started scattering, some going off to side hallways, others bidding new friends goodnight before walking purposefully into various doors. Auriella was unsure for a moment, realizing that nobody had told her which room was hers, but then she discovered that the very first door on her left bore a plaque with her name.

Opening the door, she was greeted by a flurry of excited gasps and curtsies. Three women in maid's uniforms introduced themselves as Jane, Martha, and April, but she wasn't quite sure which was which. She spent about 10 minutes trying to tell them that no, she really didn't need help preparing for bed right now, and yes, she would really like to be alone for awhile, and fine, they could come back in an hour to help her prepare for bed anyway. When they finally left reluctantly, she turned around to take in the lavish suite. It was airy and spacious, with accents in her beloved pink and gold. French doors led to a small balcony and there was a large, soft white canopy bed with a matching ottoman at its foot. That was where she found the suitcase that she had brought with her.

She zipped it open and pulled out a pair of yoga pants, a tank top, and her yoga mat. Yes, exercise, that is what she needed right now. She hadn't even let the maids help her undress, so she struggled out of the golden evening gown herself and set it on a high-backed armchair. She pulled on the familiar workout clothes, unpinned her hair, threw it into a messy bun, and rolled out the worn turquoise mat. She probably could have asked the maids for a nicer one, but the rubber was familiar and comforting under her feet as she tried to forget the stress of her long day.

She was in the middle of a complicated Eagle Pose when there was a knock at the door. Turning her head to look, her concentration broke and she wobbled, catching herself before she fell completely over. She cursed whoever would visit at such a late hour, but went over to let them in anyway.

"Good evening, Lady Auriella," the prince greeted with a cocky smile.

Auriella froze. Dang it! She was suddenly very conscious of her worn blue tank top, tight black pants, and messy hair damp with sweat. Remembering protocol, she fell into an awkward curtsy. "Your Highness," she choked out, "I'm so sorry, I wasn't expecting to see you tonight."

Prince Alexandre frowned, looking worried. "You were not? I thought I asked Miss Silvia to notify the Selected before dinner that I would be calling on each of you individually tonight."

She blinked. "Oh, well, that clears that up, then. I was a few minutes late to dinner, my makeover went long, you see… so… all the other girls probably know…"

He seemed relieved. "I see. Well… good." They stood awkwardly in the doorway for a moment. "May I come in?" he asked finally.

"Oh! Of course." She stood back to let him in. "Uh, I apologize for my dress, Your Highness," she said, hurrying over to shove her yoga mat and discarded dress out of the way. "As I said, I wasn't expecting…"

"It's no matter. I should apologize as well for the late hour. Normally, we would not be introduced until the morning. I wanted to get it over with tonight, though, as I am not much of a morning person sometimes. And well, I just could not wait to meet you ladies!"

He said the last bit with a charismatic smile that didn't seem quite real. Auriella stopped fidgeting with her tousled bun and studied his face. "I've seen that smile millions of times on the Report," she said softly, "and all due respect, Your Highness, but you don't have to put on a show for me."

The smile fell away, and he cocked his head to look curiously at the redhead. Eventually, a real, shy, honest smile crept onto his lips.

"How else am I supposed to hide how much you girls disarm me?"

His 'honest' voice was a warm, soft hum of a thing. The formality of his well-educated princely voice fell away, and she found herself sitting with 'Alec' - the stuff of legend in the gossip magazines.

"See? There it is. Just show that and you'll have any one of us falling for you in no time."

"You really think so?"

"Of course."

"Even you?"

"Of course."

"I do believe you are flirting with me, my lady."

"Of course," she repeated with a wink.

He shook his head, the stubborn grin lighting his eyes adorably. "Then I must thank you for the advice."

"Anytime," she replied, her own grin matching his. She had always had a crush on the prince— every girl in Illéa had — but being with him, alone, laughing and flirting… that was a new thing entirely. None of the Selected stood a chance, even her.

He asked her a few questions, and she answered as honestly as she could. The feeling of trying to not sound stupid was becoming familiar. Only this time, it was in front of the prince - her prospective boyfriend - and not a big black lens. Too soon though, he stood to leave.

"Your Highness, may I ask you a question?" she said as she followed him reluctantly to the door.

"Certainly."

"Why was my plane late?" she blurted.

He obviously hadn't been expecting that. "There was a mechanical problem with the plane," he answered slowly, "and it was delayed for repairs."

Her eyes narrowed, not really satisfied with that answer. "I told you, you don't need to put on a show with me," she whispered.

He shrugged. "I don't really know what you expect me to say."

She sighed and looked into his eyes. "Well, why was the flight so long? I've flown to Angeles from Yukon before, and it didn't take nearly that long. A 'mechanical problem' doesn't exactly explain that."

"The replacement plane we sent was smaller and slower," he shot back.

She scoffed. "Oh so now there's a replacement plane?"

"Look, I don't have time for this, what am I supposed to tell you?"

"The truth!" she answered simply.

They stared at each other in a stand off. She hadn't wanted to ruin what little progress they had made in their short time alone, but the matter had been bugging her all day. Darn her stupid curiosity. When he answered, she was dismayed that he had switched back to calm and serious Prince Alexandre.

"You are a stubborn girl, Lady Auriella. Fine. The plane that was meant to bring you and the others was attacked by rebels and crashed. We sent a second plane and rerouted it to avoid the suspected rebel camps. Happy?"

She nodded. "So that's how it goes around here, huh?" she marveled. "A plane crashes, people die, and things just go on as normal, like nothing happened. We could have been in that plane. And nobody even knows."

"There are many things that nobody knows, Lady Auriella. And you have to have a lot of nerve to ask about them."

"Thank you."

He cocked an eyebrow, then turned towards the door. "Goodnight, Lady Auriella."

"Ri."

"I'm sorry?"

"Ri. Call me Ri. 'Lady Auriella' is a bit of a mouthful."

"A beautiful mouthful nonetheless," he replied, and though she may have imagined it, she thought maybe his just-Alec voice had snuck back.

"Goodnight, Ri."

"Goodnight, Your Highness."

The door closed softly behind him.

"Goodnight, Alec," she whispered to the empty room.

A/N: Well... there you go. You can thank shades for convincing me to update. In my defense, this would have been up last week, but then I went on a 5-day road trip, and contrary to popular belief, road trips are really not convenient for getting writing done :P As for the weeks before that... yeah, sorry, I've got no excuse.

Also in my defense, I think this is my longest chapter yet. So that's cool.

Thoughts: Do y'all like the polyvore collection, or would a pinterest board be better? Or maybe both? There's a poll on my profile, or just tell me in a review.

If there are any of you still left out there, I love you to pieces and as always please review and check out my polyvore collection for some fun stuff. ;D :*

~majestic