And another installment…this chapter is a bridge to everything happening at once. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy the calm before the proverbial storm! SJ

The distraction of the treadmill allows the answer to bubble up to the forefront, and I can't get upstairs to my study fast enough. I grab a towel and take the back stairs at least two at a time. I didn't know why it took me so long to think of it.

I mop my face again, and then slow to a brisk walk as I open the door on the landing. I slightly incline my head at the guards standing at attention. Even at 3:30 AM, they seem completely alert and professional.

Sliding into my chair, I grab the number from the top drawer in my desk. It has been awhile since I have called it myself. I wait impatiently for the assistant, and finally hear the familiar voice at the other end.

"Calix, to what do I owe this call? Didn't we already talk this week, dearest?"

"Yes, Auntie Nic. And you questioned my taste in blondes as you reminded me that you were not a blonde, and could guarantee that they are not more interesting, beautiful, or intelligent than brunettes."

"A very important reminder, Calix. And sometimes I feel you need the aide-mémoire."

"You know I would never second-guess you, Auntie Nic. But I need you to be serious for a moment."

"I am horrified that you would suggest that I am ever anything but completely serious. Even if I am using a light tone, I always mean what I say. Now, dear, it is very early in the morning where you are and I am quite busy today. What do you need besides my solemnity?"

"Right, please forgive me." I roll my eyes to myself, but try and consider the statement as fact. What if Auntie Nic is not as frivolous as I thought?

"Already forgotten. Now, amore mio, please continue. Stalling helps no one."

She clicks her tongue at me, and I take a deep breath and plow right in to the purpose of my call. "Dad gave me Clarkson Schreave's final journal."

"I do not know what I was expecting," she finally says, after I begin to worry about the line going down, "But it was not that announcement. I was wondering when he would; I anticipated it might be closer to your coronation." Her voice is more subdued than I had ever heard it. The only time Auntie Nic had ever been more serious was in the safe room the night Mom was taken. She had joked on the subsequent flight to Italy, even as the rest of us were practically silent for the entire duration. "I admit I wonder why you are calling me."

"My family is asleep, Auntie Nic. And I knew you would be honest with me. I remember the attack orchestrated by France, and I knew of a coalition between France and Illea before. But, Dad never mentioned Clarkson tried to have him killed."

"Calix, I am sure that your father wants to tell you about this himself. And he would be better to do it. This is really not my place." Her silence is complete. She is giving me her full attention.

"Of course it is your place, because you helped stabilize France after King and Queen Bonaparte were deposed. You helped keep us safe during the attacks. You supported the changes Mom and Dad made from the beginning. You're right in the middle of it all." Maybe it is because of the early hour, or the lack of sleep, but my voice has enough of an edge that Auntie Nic ceases to argue. "Dad mentioned that the Princess of France professed her love for him before the Selection. Was that Queen Bonaparte?"

"Yes," she answers, in a clipped tone. I can tell she wants to end the call, but she feels obligated to talk with me.

"And there's more to the story that you won't tell me this morning."

She sighs, and speaks, "So much, and I would rather die than betray the confidences made. There are details that so few people know, that it is like no one does. And I will not be the one to expose those secrets to the light, Calix. There are still lives at stake."

"And those secrets include details regarding the exiled Bonapartes."

"Calix, my dear, as long as our conversation continues in this direction, it must end. As capable as you are, you are not ready for some of these answers. I wish I did not know them myself. Now, if you would like to talk about your favorite Selected candidate or the pressures of rule, or the next steps toward a constitutional monarchy, I will stay on the line until someone on your side of the world wakes up. Otherwise-"

My voice is apologetic, "Auntie Nic."

"Oh, so you would like to discuss that feisty, Bonita-born member of the Selected? Or perhaps the very tall blonde. Not the skier. The other one. Just tell me the red head is still around because she has some redeeming qualities."

"Maybe it is my turn to be mysterious," I match my voice to hers. "You'll meet them soon, enough Auntie, by the International Summit, actually. But, Brie, I haven't heard from her lately. She's okay?"

Auntie Nic's laugh is throaty, "She is more than okay, Calix—she is amazing. She is studying art in Italy! I am looking out for our Abrielle. Do not worry."

"Maybe have her call me the next time you see her? I trust she'll get my message."

She clucks into the phone, "Now, now, Calix, that was unnecessary. But, I will make sure your sister calls you."

"Thanks, Auntie Nic," I reply innocently. I'm glad she noticed the dig, but didn't take offense.

"And, Calix, please talk to your father today," she turns serious again.

"Of course," I reply, and before I can say anything else, I'm left with a dial tone. I shake my head and replace the receiver, realizing how much more difficult it is getting to keep my eyes open. I manage to make it to my couch before sleep finally overtakes me.

…X.X.X.X…

My eyes open to a smaller version of my own face staring less than six inches from my own, "He's awake!" Then I hear a deep sniff, and the proclamation, "And he smells!"

I start backwards, making sure to keep from thrashing. "Tyrmian! What are you doing?"

"Helping Ethan find you." The boy looks incredibly pleased with himself as he looks past me to the entrance of the room.

A quick glance to the doorway reveals Ethan, arms crossed across his chest with a very serious look. "He was helping me locate you after you didn't show up for breakfast and you weren't in your room. Your brother was rather concerned for your safety. You'll be happy to know that you are not in the barn, the garden, or the library." He nods to Tyr, who then hands me a muffin. "Your breakfast however, was in each of those places. So, consider yourself warned."

"Aunt May needed a favor?" I ask, around a tentative bite of my slightly-squished blueberry lemon muffin.

Ethan just shrugs, "Tyrmian was pretty disappointed when you didn't show."

I grin at Tyr, as he climbs up on the couch next to me. "Thanks for breakfast, little brother. It's my favorite."

"I haven't seen you in forever, Cal. Where have you been?" He scowls, a small furrow appearing between his eyes.

"I know, Tyr. Being busy is a lousy excuse, isn't it? How about after dinner, we play HORSE? You, Barrett, Griffin, Kort, and me. Even Dad and Ethan if they want."

He seems content with that decision. "Okay," he replies, "But no girls. I am tired of all the girls in this place. Except for Ana."

I choke a little, swallow, then answer, "Why not Ana?"

Aunt May appears at the door, hands on her hips with a serious face so much like Mom's I almost feel sorry for the boy beside me, "Tyrmian Michael, you are late for your lessons."

He jumps up, grinning, and practically runs from the room throwing, "Because she gives me candy," over his shoulder. I can hear Aunt May scolding Tyrmian as she follows him down the hallway.

"Word on the street is you smell," Ethan commented, taking the chair across from the couch and handing me a mug of coffee.

I just grunt, and take a deep sip. "I'll take care of that in a minute. Still no meetings before lunch?"

"Your dad wants to see you sometime today, before dinner and preferably before the meeting this afternoon. However, he said he will be in his study all day. He would have told you himself, but-"he gestures toward the couch.

I nod, "So for a complete change in subject, how's getting up and to the bakery by 3:30 AM?"

"She makes amazing coffee."

"So, it is as horrible as it sounds. I had an idea about that, which would earn you both more sleep and not trample her morality."

He cocks his head, "Go on. I'm not a rooster, so I prefer to sleep a little later in the morning when possible."

"I was down in the kitchens the other day, and did you know there is a storage area for back up equipment? Most of this equipment is in good condition. There's a mixer there. Actually, there are two in reserve, in addition to the one in daily use. And Cook already said there is hardly ever a need for more than two mixers even with large Occasions of State."

Ethan works to make sure his face is composed, "And?"

"And we could draw up a contract if she won't accept the equipment as a gift from the palace. She's made it quite clear she doesn't like the idea of getting any favors from me."

He grins, "I almost feel guilty for letting Tyrmian carry your muffin in his pocket. I think I can convince her of that. Who do I work with?"

"I already talked to Aunt Marlee."

"I knew there was a reason that I work to keep you relatively safe."

I can't contain a guffaw, "You mean other than utter loyalty to the monarchy?"

His eye roll is pronounced, "That must be it, no familial connection at all."

"Whatever, don't go sentimental on me now. It would ruin a thirteen year tradition." I stand, pulling at the collar of my t-shirt. "I'll go and get ready for the day."

His grin widens as he waves a hand in front of his nose, "Good choice."

"Shut up," I yell, already out the door.

…X.X.X.X…

Fresh from the shower, I pace the corridors on the third floor, not quite ready to confront my father's writing or to meet his request for a one-one-one. My intense need to know has cooled since the early hours of the morning; and, I am resisting Auntie Nic's order. Even though I know I will eventually follow it. I really don't want to talk to anyone I'm related to, and before I am cognizant of what I am doing, I am opening the stairwell door on the second floor.

The girls should all be in class with Vara, and it seems as if I have found a place where I can be solitary, at least for the next hour or so. I shorten my stride, actually trying to look at the art on the walls, and nodding to the guards at their stations. When my mother first walked down this corridor, was she excited? Nervous? Intimidated? Did she feel caged? The longer she stayed could she feel Clarkson Schreave's hatred grow? An involuntary shiver accosts my spine.

I continue my slow circuit, until I hear, "She shoots! She scores! The crowd goes wild." I stop outside the door that seems to be containing the noise, and notice it is not completely shut. Through the crack I can see Charlie, wearing athletic shorts and a t-shirt, tossing balled up pieces of paper at a waste basket that had taken up residence on her desk. She is moving nimbly around the floor, taking shots from various points and making them all. I shake my head. Only Charlie.

Taking a liberty, I throw open the door, "Miss Charlotte Everly, I am surprised at you. Shouldn't you be in class with Miss Vara?"

She starts and spins to the door, realizing it is only me standing there, and launches her next paper basketball at my head. I fail to catch it, and she begins to laugh as it bounces off my forehead. All seriousness drops away, and I scoop up the errant scrap of paper and launch it into the basket. Then I close the door behind me, taking a few more steps into the room.

I clear my throat, pretending to be stern, "I asked you a question, young lady."

"I believe I'm feeling a little ill," Charlie grins and fakes a cough. "I would hate to get anyone else sick, you know."

Finally, I let the corners of my mouth turn up, "Of course. How thoughtful of you." I watch her square up to the basket and release another flawless shot. "Are the lessons really that bad?"

"Sometimes, yes. But Viviana and I have been taking turns playing hooky. So far, Vara hasn't caught on. We aren't trying to push our luck, but 'tiresome' doesn't quite describe it." She flops on the bed, and pats the spot next to her, inviting me to sit, too. I spread out at the foot, propping myself up on my elbow.

"Vara means well, and her job is important. But, I get it. The younger kids still have classes with her. Brie and I agree it's the best part of going away to school."

She arches an eyebrow, smirking a little. "So we know I should be somewhere else, shouldn't you be?"

"Probably," I shrug, "But that's one of the constants. I could always be doing something else, somewhere else." I gesture to the door, and wiggle my eyebrow back. "Should I leave? I mean, you probably need to recuperate from your illness."

Her smile is wider, "If you want to risk my germs, who am I to stop you, Prince Calix?" The emphasis is on prince, and her attempt to elicit a laugh is successful. She hops back up and dumps the basket over. "Up for a game?"

We play for a while; her athleticism outpacing my own. Finally, I collapse back on the bed letting her collect our makeshift equipment and seat herself at the desk.

I fill the quiet that follows by blurting out, "My grandfather tried to have my parents killed."

"What?" Her face is frozen in a confused mask as she stares at me, eyes wide. "Say that again, please?"

I couldn't believe I said it the first time, but I repeat the phrase, "My grandfather tried to have my parents killed." Her palm covers her mouth and it would be comical if the subject matter wasn't Clarkson Schreave. I continue to explain, "Dad gave me King Clarkson's journal from right before the attack on the palace. And that was one of his intentions."

"Oh, Calix," she crosses to where I am laying and takes my hand. I let her take it, and make room for her to slide next to me. I watch as our fingers intertwine, she quietly calms me with her presence. She is the first to break the quiet. "Why are you talking to me about this?"

Squirming, I respond, "I'm not sure. I know you won't tell anyone?" It is a question, but I really didn't have to ask. I can trust Charlie like I can Ethan and Brie.

"Of course I won't. I just mean, maybe you should be talking to your dad and mom about this one?"

"I'm supposed to catch Dad before a meeting this afternoon."

An idea occurs to her, "Is that where you were this morning? Reading the journal?"

"I was sleeping off staying up until the wee hours reading and talking to Auntie Nic."

She tries to stifle a giggle, and I turn my head so I can see her face, "What's so funny? I just told you if my grandfather had his way, I wouldn't exist."

"I'm sorry, Calix. It always sounds facetious when you mention that the Princess Nicoletta of Italy is plain old 'Auntie Nic' to you. It sounds so common. And she's this important diplomat, ambassador…" She trails off. "I guess it's me that's odd?"

"Could be," I tease back. "Better you than me, at least." We're smiling into each other's face, and it occurs to me that I have never kissed Charlie. I move closer to her, and her relaxed posture stiffens.

"What are you doing?"

"Kissing you?"

She's quiet for moment, and then assents, "Okay. I guess we never have, have we?"

I simply shake my head a little in reply, and brush my lips across hers. I feel awkward trying to find the right angle, and my inelegance is matched in her response. It certainly wasn't like the connections I had with Claire and Viviana. And Fae, well, no one compares to my first kiss with Fae.

"That was-"

"Absolutely horrible?" I supply the words she might not be willing to say.

"I was going to say like kissing a dead fish. But horrible is a good way to describe it."

Soon, we're laughing so hard we're wheezing. "Should we try it again?" I suggest, secretly hoping she declines.

"Oh, gods, no!" she exclaims. "I imagine that would be what kissing your brother would feel like. We are strictly hugs and cheek kisses only from now on."

"Agreed."

"So," she begins, "Should I pack my things? I know you'll be narrowing down the field soon."

"News travels fast. If it's all the same to you, I'd like you to stay. It's nice to have a running buddy, and someone to talk to who isn't related—or doesn't want to be related—to me. Plus, I think it would break Griffin's heart if you went home. You're his favorite." I elbow her in the side, and her response is to do the same.

"I guess I could do that. But, I have to go by the time competition starts. So wrap this up by January, eh?"

"Right, all for your convenience of course."

"If I can ask, who will make this round of cuts besides Claire and Viviana?" Her voice is still teasing, and underneath the lilt is true curiosity.

I'm not surprised that she knows my interest in those two is keenest, but the question still puts me off-kilter. "Well, I guess I should have more than three, right?"

"Unless you want a mutiny? And I'd probably actually make an effort to date a few of them before eliminating more. People will think this contest is rigged."

"I'm not as guarded as I think I am?"

"Let's just say, I'm not the traditional girl, and I knew that Claire and Viviana are favorites. It can get a little intense in the Women's Room."

"What do you mean? What do they say?"

An exaggerated eye roll accompanies her answer, "Oh, come on, Calix, you have twelve women vying for your attention and trying to pretend like they are gracious and happy about it when you look at someone else. Claire and Viviana and I are actually friends, and it can get frosty after one of them spends time with you. We've just agreed not to ask each other questions. And as to the gossip in the Women's Room, you know I keep my confidences."

"I guess I didn't realize," I feel apologetic, and hope my tone reflects the emotion. "So, you think it is too soon to eliminate everyone but Viviana and Claire?"

She tries to hold in a sigh and is largely unsuccessful. "You know what an elimination like that would mean," she looks at me and exhales another breath, shaking her head when I show my confusion. "It would suggest that you are close to making a choice. So, are you close to making a decision? Do you love Viviana or Claire?"

"Oh," I reply, feeling a little ridiculous and a lot lost. "Oh, I don't know. What do you think?"

"Calix, I think you are infatuated with both of them. I think you care for both of them. But, love? I think you think you should be in love. I even think you want to be in love. And, `you will be. Hopefully, by January." She pats my hand and snorts a little at her own joke. "Personally, I think you've been in love before and are just getting over her, and that's probably why we are having this bizarre conversation."

My response of "Oh" this time is met with a hug and a peck on the cheek. "How'd you get to be so smart, Charlie?"

"I've always been smart, Calix. My ability to ski doesn't disable my brain."

"I'm glad you're staying."

Her voice is bright without any trace of sarcasm as she returns, "Me, too. Your training equipment is better than mine."

….X.X.X.X….

Thanks so much for reading and reviewing. I love "hearing" your thoughts about the story. And I so appreciate you sticking with me. Responses to your comments are below! XOXO SJ

Prnamber3909: DAY is from the LEGEND series. I appreciate the puppy dog face. Don't you think Calix is confused enough without Fae back in the mix? I mean he's reading the diaries, he's supposed to choose between two completely different women, and his dad's advisors think he's not quite ready to rule yet… But it is good to know that you would ship them. Thanks for reading! :)

AcademicGirl: Aww, thanks. It's nice to be missed. I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter. I hope this lead up chapter is okay, too. And, I like the simile—what a great image—a music sheet riddled with staccato eighth notes. Totally knows what that feels like. :)

Selection Fan: Thanks so much. I'm glad you enjoyed it! :)

NotHisDear: You get a little bit of an answer to your question, but I promise there is more to come from Italy. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! :)

dolly123: Cal does in fact think he is a ninja. He's keeping it from his family, though. I am impressed that you figured out the surprise twist so early! Just keep it a secret and don't ruin it for anyone else, okay? ;) Thank you for your sweet review, it helps keep me writing! What do you think of this chapter? :)

The Devil Wears Westwood: Cal and Claire are cute. So are Cal and Viviana. I can tell you, these last few chapters are the calm before the chaos. So much is coming… I'm glad you're enjoying the story and hope you like this update, too. Plus, I really hope that you find time soon to write. Maybe after your crazy week?! :)

Username1096: Thank you so much for your review. And I'm glad you like the story enough to miss it during the unplanned hiatus. I missed the story, too! Always like to see what you think about it. Let me know what worked best in this chapter, too, if you have a chance! :)

izzielau: I know—this bracket was a tough one. It seems unfair that the random bracket generator created this possible scenario, doesn't it…Thank you for reading! :)

ShippingSoHard: Got it! Thanks for reading!

happyfacess501kim: Those journals…quite a bit to dump on someone all at once, though? This family definitely has some skeletons! Good choice for the bracket. That's what I get to do, because I don't vote on any of it. Thanks for reading! :)

….X.X.X.X….

Bracket: MAXON Not that we all don't appreciate DAY, right? Just we are on The Selection Trilogy section of this site… :)