INS TV studios, Los Angeles, Angeles
Crown Prince Oleander of Illéa

Oleander was nervous – in a moment he would be on air, whole Illéa watching, proudly announcing he was having a Selection.

Or that's what his father wanted. For him to be proud.

But even when Oleander tried, he couldn't feel anything else than disappointment and resent.

He knew he made the whole situation much worse after his little outing with Dash, but the fact that it was only a week and he was already announcing the Selection was unexpected and terrifying.

Maybe if not for those photos, he could buy himself some more time.

How stupid and drunk was he to ever think shotgunning in public was a good idea?

"You look very handsome, darling, no need to be nervous."

Oleander turned his head sharply and here she was: standing in all her glory, Faye Bradshaw. Her dark hair was loose, thick locks flowing onto her bare shoulders in waves. Every time Oleander saw her, he was starstruck by her beauty: her olive skin always had that natural, healthy shine to it, her dark eyes were the perfect shape of almond, big and expressive, her plump lips in dark shade of pink were made to be immortalized on paintings. She was perfect, as cheesy as it sounded – and INS TV knew that very well, putting her on the most popular show to make sure every citizen watched the news, even if they disagreed with every decision the Royal Family made.

"Faye."

Oleander stepped closer and hugged her dearly – they knew each other well enough for such proximity to go unnoticed by the rest of the crew. Just like him, Faye was a part of higher class, the very own Angeles elite, and even though she was three years older, she still spend a lot of time around Ander during her teen years.

"So nice to see you. You look ravishing."

It was true. Faye was wearing a long, spaghetti strap dress in the most gorgeous shade of green – the one that surrounded you in a forest in a middle of a summer, rich and dark, and just bringing back the memories of the freshest wind to mind. Made from silk, it shined beautifully in dark lights.

Faye smiled, showing her perfectly white teeth.

"You're cute, thank you! Usually I wouldn't wear it here, but since it's a very special announcement you have, I decided to choose something more elegant."

Special announcement. Just kill me already.

Oleander smiled.

"Yes, that… Well, I'm sure no matter what I say, you'll steal the show anyway, as always."

Faye just laughed quietly.

"Oh no, the country's gonna go wild the moment they hear it, especially after the photos. Or are we all wrong, and you and Sullivan are actually an item and the whole Selection thing is just a distraction?"

That question was exactly what Oleander wanted to avoid. He didn't need to bring any more attention to his last week's escapade, he and Dashiell already had way too many young girls reposting blurry photos of them kissing surrounded by white smoke.

Good thing lights in the club were dark, so it wasn't possible to know for sure it was Oleander on the photos; the Crown was able to dodge the questions saying it was all a mistake, a gossip made by some drunk teenagers who thought they saw the Crown Prince, but actually mistaken someone else for him.

"We're not an item" Oleander said, as calmly as he could. "And the photos are fake, didn't you hear?"

Faye knew Dashiell and him well enough to not be fooled by that lie; it was clear from her expression she didn't believe any of the words, probably her own theory forming in her mind.

At least she wasn't mean nor suicidal enough to share her theories with the world.

"Five minutes!" someone shouted, and the room buzzed.

"I got to go now" Faye said "but I'll see you in a sec."

Oleander was left alone, but not for long – one of the makeup artist caught him and put last bits of powder on his face. He hated that part of tv shows and photoshoots – all the powder they had to put on his face just to make sure he looked perfect on screen, not to shiny but at the same time still not too flat.

"Okay, stand here, please, Your Royal Highness." One of the executives approached him and took him on stage, the rest of the Royal Family already there. Most of the lights were off, the people present on set just a bunch of dark figures with no features. Oleander had to shut his mouth, otherwise he would murmur to Phelia how he hoped the studio stayed that dark till the end of the news; because as much as he loved his twin, she wouldn't understand. Not with all the love she had for media and seeing her own face on screen.

"We're airing in three… two… one!"

The lights went on again, the camera crew still standing in the shadows.

"Good evening, Illéa, it's 7pm, friday, march 27. I'm David Sinclair, here with me is Faye Bradshaw, and this is the Report."

David Sinclair was one of the best tv presenters in whole Illéa – people loved his smooth voice and handsome face, his sense of humor and the natural flow whenever he had guests on the show. He and Faye had the perfect chemistry, despite the age gap, and were definitely the best duo INS TV ever hired.

Reginald was the first one invited on stage – he often appeared on the Report, a lot less after the accident. He liked to announce all the important events and changes to the country himself, that's what differed him from his ancestors and what made many people love him.

But as interesting as the segments of his father always were, Oleander couldn't bring himself to focus. His mind was on the Selection, on the announcement his father and his assistant wrote for him earlier this week. He forgot half of it already and his palms started to sweat.

Oh, why the hell did he agree to announce it in person, instead of just putting it in the papers?

Yeah, right. Father insisted.

He didn't realise how much time passed until someone touched his arm gently and he raised his head a little too sharply.

Faye and David were looking at him now, probably just announced his presence, and were waiting for him to join them at the table. He did, reminding himself to smile his million dollars worth smile.

"Faye, David" he started the moment he joined them "thank you for having me."

"It is an honor to have you here, Your Royal Highness" replied Faye, her honest smile a little calming. She was perfect for the job, with her honesty, positive energy and just a knowledge how to work with people.

She was as charming as a tv presenter was supposed to be.

"A little birdie told me you have some announcement for us, is that true?"

He smiled again, wide and bright, just to make sure people couldn't see his hesitance.

"Indeed, I do" he agreed, just as he was supposed to do. He tried to remember his speech, the words blurry in his mind. "I'm having a Selection."

It sounded harsh, the way he said it. He looked into the camera lense, the background pitch black, and imagined the most beautiful, breathtaking view in front of him: lively green grass, beautiful, clear sky in the most charming, royal blue shade he ever saw, the field around him empty, only the sound of birds' song as his companion.

He smiled, this time a little more honest and much more charming.

"It is an old tradition for Illéan Royal Family to choose the heir's companion from among its people. I feel beyond grateful to have this opportunity to find a love of my life, and am excited to meet thirty five charming young ladies." It still sounded empty to his own ears, but he was good enough actor for the rest of the world to believe him. "The forms were already send to each eligible lady in ages between eighteen and twenty four, and should be returned in local Province Services Offices due April 10th. The Selected will be announced during the Report on friday, April 24th. I encourage every young lady to apply, I will be honored to have each and every one of you in my Selection."

The moment he ended, he felt tired.

It was done. He would have a Selection in a month, and there was nothing he could do now.

Faye was looking at him with a way too bright smile on her face.

"That is exciting, indeed!" she said, her voice a little too pitched. "I am sure the ladies will be delighted to apply. Is there something you look for in your future wife?"

He knew the question was coming, but he didn't have any answer that didn't sound curt. So, just like always, he decided to improvise and put his full charm on.

He smiled at Faye, maybe too seductively for his parents' taste, and said:

"Well, as a passionate individual myself, I am drawn to people who can feel just as strongly about something. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about, Faye." He winked at her and she laughed. " Music and painting are two of my biggest passions, and thanks to my charming sister, Ophelia, I do know a thing or two about fashion. Wouldn't it be great to have one of the girls sharing those passions?"

Faye just nodded, but David clearly had more questions. He was gorgeous, yes, but at the moment Oleander just wanted to ruin this pretty mouth of his and get out. Right now.

"Aren't you afraid some of the girls might fake love for art, just to please you?" he asked. Valid question. Not that it mattered to Ander at the moment. He just wanted to leave.

"I do feel no matter how good of an actor you are, there's no way to fake a passion as strong as mine. I hope no one will try, but if they do – better know it's not easy to fool me, and the one thing I'm not looking for in a future partner is dishonesty."

"Beautifully said, Your Royal Highness." David wasn't impressed, but still managed to smile and not in all the right places. "Thank you for joining us again."

Oleander left them and sat next to his family again. He did it. He announced the Selection. He was going to meet thirty five girls in a month's time and marry one of them not long after.

How the hell was he supposed to do that?

He wanted the crown, wanted to become king one day, but if he had to pay for it in living in a loveless marriage, than maybe he should consider just passing it to Saffron.

"You did great" Phelia said, smiling to him brightly. He signed. He well hoped he did, otherwise the country would be outraged, and the protests were the last thing his family needed right now.

Abandoned building, Bargot quarter, St. Olivier, Likely
Alexandra Louise Gibson

Alexa loved walking around Bargot quarter: the sketchiest quarter of all, inhabited by the poorest people, mostly Sixes and Seven, also a safe haven for all the Eights. For her, a person who grew up in one of the nicest districts in the whole city, seeing the poorer places was a never ending adventure. Everyone warned her the people in Bargot were savages, that they would rob her the moment they saw her, but like, her curiosity was always stronger than instinct of self-preservation. Her parents didn't know – if they knew, Alexa wouldn't hear the end of it, especially from her mother – and the only people that realised what "going for a walk" meant in Alexa's dictionary were her best friends forever: James and Minnie. James would never talk her out of it and Minnie lived in Bargot quarter, so. Not exactly in a position to dissuade her.

The place she chose for today was one of her favourites: an abandoned building, with half of its walls demolished, just in a good enough state to climb it without worrying it'll fall on her head, and at the same time ruined enough to scare off any homeless people and thugs.

Or, at least she hoped so, like. She didn't know for sure she was safe there.

"Why would you ever want me to meet you here, Gibs?" a familiar voice asked and Alexa turned, grinning widely. James was standing just few feets away from her, his hazel eyes looking around distrustful.

Alexa laughed, her eyes crinkling beautifully, and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"We both know you don't mind it, Jimmy, you love me too much."

She turned around, took the first step onto the rubble covering the ground all around the building, and with the same, satisfied smile started climbing the crumbling wall.

"You've got to be kidding me" she heard James huff, his voice full of disbelieve. "There's no way I'm climbing that wall, and you very well know it!"

Alexa laughed again, reaching to another rift and and grabbing it firmly. The art of climbing was something she perfected over the years – her body knew exactly what kinds of surfaces to grab, how to do it, how to use her legs to make sure she was supported and in no danger of falling. (When she first started climbing, she fell off way too many times, so. She was determined to never let it happen again.)

She climbed higher, inch by inch, until she reached one of the windows on first floor, just the frame, no glass in it. She propped herself on it, turned around just enough to see James still standing and looking at her, fear in his eyes.

"The stairs are in the back, see you on third floor!"

She didn't wait for him to respond, knowing way to well James's going to come after her anyway, just like he always did. She knew him way too well to be fooled by the frown on his face, like. No matter how many times he asked her to be careful, trying to be her voice of reason, she still did what she wanted.

She was just stubborn like that.

Climbing was like a second nature to her now: the only thing she could do to take her mind off her mother's neverending complaints. Like now. After all the hard work she did during photoshoot, playing the perfect model her mother wanted her to be so bad, but still being way too plain in her eyes, like. She needed a break, and a long one.

She stood on the concrete floor, her cheeks pink and breath fast from exercise. James was coming her way, taking every step with great care, clearly not trusting the old building to hold his weight.

"C'mon" she said cheerly, "let's climb a little higher, the view's great from there!"

She just took James by his hand and dragged him to the stairs again. He cursed under his breath, not quiet enough for her not to hear, and like. Rude.

"See?" she asked, gesturing towards one of the ruined walls, the bricks only few inches high. She walked there confidently and sat on the edge. "I like to sit here, y'know. It's beautiful."

She heard Jim coming closer and watched him sit next to her by the corner of her eye.

"She said something again, didn't she?"

Alexa sighed and closed her eyes, legs dangling from the wall.

James knew her way to well, so. There's no point in lying.

"Yup, she did. Something 'bout how I need to work harder and focus, 'coz I look like a dead fish. Like, I know I'm not perfect, kay, I just wish she said something nice in change."

She felt James move again, felt his hand on her shoulder, just the gentlest of touches.

"You shouldn't listen to her" he said. "She's just salty because she was never this good when she was modeling."

Alexa laughed, surprise visible in her voice. It was such a James' thing to say, and she had to admit it made the weight on her lungs a little lighter.

"Well" she started, turning her face to look into these hazel eyes. "I guess she'll have even more reason to be jealous since I'm gonna apply for the Selection. And like. Who wouldn't want me there?"

James was looking at her, dumbfounded. Alexa tried not to move too much, her uncomfort making her all twitchy.

"What?" she asked, just to break the silence.

"Nothing." Jim was still looking at her with this strange look in his eyes. "I imagined you'd be many things at nineteen but married was never one of them."

Oh. That kinda made sense.

"Who said I'm gonna get married?" she asked, looking at the beautiful landscape in front of her.

"Why else would you do it?"

Alexa sighed once again. The Selection was supposed to be about love, everyone knew it, but how many people were actually willing to just marry a man they never met? She couldn't be the only one wanting a place in the palace just to get away from her life for a while. Like, she couldn't be.

"I just" she started, shrugging without even realising it. "I just wanna get away for awhile, y'know? Do something fun, without my parents controlling me."

They stayed silent after that, but even when they parted, after staring into nothingness for an hour too long, Alexa could still feel Jim's gaze on her.

But he had no right to judge her, so. She pretended she didn't care.

Piano room, Montgomery Music Academy, Montgomery, Allens
Johanna Celia Moremont

Hanna was sitting at the piano stool, her fingers touching the keys lightly. She was thinking about what to play, no song she learned in last months coming to her mind.

"Are you going to play something already?" asked Claire, the baby in her arms looking at Hanna with those big blue eyes. "Joff wants to hear his auntie play."

Johanna smiled, her fingers finally finding the right keys. She loved the little moments she shared with Claire, especially because since she gave birth, she was always busy with taking care of Joff, her little treasure. Having her here, in the room Hanna spent so much time in throughout the years, meant everything, even if she didn't show it. She wanted to play something special, something that would express how much she loved her dearest friend much clearer than words ever could, something she always struggled with.

So she played, the music calming and delicate, rhythm slow, deliciously so. Playing was almost like a second nature to her right now: she didn't have to think, her hands knew exactly what to do and how to do it, the music coming from the instrument in a steady wave.

Only, no matter what she did and how hard she tried, there was still something missing. A soul, maybe.

The last note vibrated through the room, a little nostalgic and maybe too sad for a moment as joyous as this. But Claire clapped – how she managed to do it with Joff still in her arms was a mystery to Hanna – and smiled brightly.

"Oh, how beautiful! Did you hear it, Joffy? Isn't your auntie just the most talented woman on earth?"

She was way too cute, looking at her son with the brightest smile on her face. Hanna was so happy for her – Claire's marriage was perfect, she had the most beautiful child ever, and throughout all the years they knew each other, Johanna never seen her as content with her life and glowing from happiness as now.

"What was it, Jojo? I need to play it to Henric, such a beautiful tune!"

Hanna smiled again – something that only happened this much around her best friend – and tried not to feel too proud with herself.

"I wrote it" she said and fixed her hair. "I'm still working on it, but wanted to play it to you. I wrote the first draft after I saw you and Joff for the first time in hospital. Never seen you that happy."

Johanna could see it before it happened – the tears in Claire's eyes, the upcoming wave of thank you's and sorry's.

"Jojo!" Claire sat beside her on a narrow piano stool, Joff in her arms blinking slowly, clearly at the edge of sleep. "This is so beautiful, you shouldn't have! I love it so much, I…"

She gave Claire time, as always when she got emotional. She knew her friend teared easily, was always keen to showing her emotions, unlike Johanna. Maybe that's why they were friends, in the first place; because being around Claire always made showing emotions seem like a good thing.

"I know we weren't close these last years, and I'm so sorry! I never intended to leave you behind, but I never thought marriage would be so much work. I need you to know you are a part of my family and I will always, always care about you!"

Uh-oh. It was getting way more emotional than Johanna anticipated.

"I could play you something too, but I'm afraid your ears wouldn't survive it" added Claire, grinning; the tension disappeared.

Johanna snorted.

"Well, I can't deny that" she said, not strong enough to resist it. "You are an awful musician and your singing sounds like a dying chicken."

"Hey!"

Hanna laughed, the indignation on Claire's face hilarious.

"You were supposed to tell me I'm a great musician, I thought we were friends!"

It felt great, having Claire around again, just like the old times. It wasn't the same, of course it wasn't, but still nice.

"Well" started Claire, her eyes down, looking at Joff. "I really happy with him, you know? I hope you find someone like that for yourself. And…"

Whatever it was Claire wanted to say probably wasn't something Johanna wanted to hear. But Claire was her friend and Hanna was way too curious not to hear it.

"Aaand?" she asked, her brows raised.

"Were you thinking about applying for Prince Oleander's Selection?" asked Claire and now her hesitation was understandable.

The Selection? Really?

"Why would I?" she asked, a little confused as to why she should be interested to take part in this masquerade. "I mean, we all know how the last Selection ended, not to mention the photos whole Illéa is talking about, the ones with him and some other guy."

Everyone heard about it, that Crown Prince was seen in one of Los Angeles clubs, smoking and kissing with that friend of his, the one from the rich kids club, with too much money and not enough brain to use it properly. The Royal Family might have said it was all fake, but how big was a possibility of another guy looking almost like Crown Prince appearing in one of the most expensive clubs in the whole country, kissing with another guy? It sounded impossible, so Johanna definitely still believed the Crown Prince liked boys.

"They said it's fake" opposed Claire. "And even if it's true, don't you think it would be nice to get to know some new people? You wouldn't have to think about med school anymore."

She had a point. But as much as Johanna would love to forget about her endless dilemma whether to continue her family's tradition and become a doctor or choose her own dreams and go into music, she wasn't keen on getting into the show that was supposed to be about love, but actually was about finding the perfect queen, pretending every girl in the country had a chance to become one.

"Just think about it, okay? I just hate to see you all miserable and alone."

Johanna nodded, her hands resting on keys again. She could understand Claire's logic, but as much as she understood it, she didn't agree with it even the slightest.

Tatiana's Cafe, Yellowknife, St. George
Antonella Vela

"This is so exciting!"

Annie was sitting in one of her favourite coffee shops in Yellowknife, just five minutes walk away from her office. Juliette was sitting with her, her coffee untouched, smiling widely, excitement visible in her every move.

"I can't believe Prince Oleander is having a Selection, oh my gosh!"

The Selection was the only thing Julie talked about the moment they met today. As much as Annie loved her, she wasn't sure if she was ready to spend another hour or two hearing the same thing again and again.

But she was too kind to ever tell her that.

"Are you going to appy?" she asked instead, honestly curious if her friend planned on applying, after all the talk today. Juliette wasn't the bravest of all people and just like Annie, sometimes she was to shy to actually act on her feelings.

"I don't know" she said, just as Annie predicted. "I want to, very much, but… that just so stressful! What should I write in my form? What should I wear to the Province Services Office? What if they disqualify me because they find me inadequate?"

Annie understood her doubts, the whole application process seemed like a way too big a thing for such an event and was a little overwhelming. Antonella thought about it herself – she watched the Report that day, heard every single world Crown Prince said, and the next morning found the letter form the Royal Court with the form in it.

She looked at all the questions there, not sure whether she should fill it or not. It was tempting: just to fill in all the informations, return it to the Province Services Office, than watch the Crown Prince announce her name during the Report. Everything just an entry to a new chapter in her life, the one in which she becomes a queen, loved by many, and leaving her mark in history.

Tempting, indeed, but looking at Juliette and her excitement, Annie wished she was the one chosen.

"You should do it" she said calmly, taking her friend's hand in hers. "You're a wonderful young woman, beautiful inside and out. You're passionate and hard working, and have the sweetest disposition from all people I know. Crown Prince will fall for you the moment he sees you."

Juliette still looked unsure; a sad view, usually she was all bubbly and energetic. A little ray of sunshine, that's what she reminded of Annie.

Antonella wanted her to smile and be excited again; wanted her to feel brave enough to try and make her dream come true.

"What if we apply together?" she asked, her voice gentle. "Will you do it then?"

For a moment Juliette stayed silent – and Annie feared she didn't like the idea, that she didn't want more competition – but then she smiled brightly, her usual positivity back.

"Would you?" she asked, grinning widely. "Oh, I have my form with me, do you have yours? We should fill them together, we can go to your flat now! Oh, and to the Province Services Office, you think being first ones there will matter? I hope so, I sooo want to be chosen!"

Annie laughed, a little surprised by this outburst, and very well pleased with herself.

"Yes, we can go to my house and fill the forms" she agreed, the gentle smile still on her face. "But first, drink your coffee, it's probably cold already."

Juliette gulped it in two big gulps, ignoring Annie's pleases to go slower, and dragged her out of the coffee shop. Good thing her flat was just around the corner, otherwise she would have to run after Juliette for more than just five minutes, and she wasn't fit enough to survive that.

They took their forms the moment they stepped inside, Juliette's excitement affecting Annie too. The questions were simple: height, weight, caste and occupation, known languages, hobbies, one paragraph to present yourself. The fact that they still wanted for every girl to answer those questions was a bit weird: the Selection was supposed to be a lottery, why would they need to know any of those things if they weren't going to matter?

Antonella might've been many things, but stupid wasn't one of them. She answered the questions truthfully, but was feeling a little uneasy at the thought someone might judge her based on so few things.

She didn't say it outloud – there was no need to discourage Juliette, and she wanted that place so bad – but it bothered her.

"Do you think there will be lots of people waiting to return their forms?" Juliette asked, her bubbly self shining through again. They decided to take the bus this time, the only Province Services Office to far for them to walk on foot.

"I hope not" Annie answered, making her way through the crowd. The city center was always busy this hour of a day, and it seemed today it was even busier. Soon Antonella could see for herself just how many people decided to join the Selection.

From the very door of the Province Services Office started a huge line, full of young women with the familiar looking pieces of paper in their hands.

"Oh".

They just stood there, looking at the line in stunned silence – sure, the Selection was a great event, but the whole city counted less than twenty thousands citizens, how many of them could be female and right age?

"Well, I guess we'll spend a while here" said Annie and took her place at the end of the line. Form in hand, her friend just beside her, she thought she could do it. After all, wouldn't it be just magical to find love and become Illéa's future queen?

The Heinrich mansion, Bellingham, Columbia
Marlene Yuriko Heinrich

Marlene was standing in the middle of her family's home living room, an untouched black coffee in front of her. She didn't want to be here, not after all this months of trying to be everywhere but here. This place had way too many hurtful memories, the ones she forced out of her mind, the ones that appeared in her dreams almost every night, as if her subconsciousness was set on haunting her till the rest of her days.

"Marlene, darling." Marlene turned and took a deep breath, trying to look calm and collected, just as she was supposed to be; her mother never liked when she displayed her emotions, better not irritate her now.

She could leave the pain for later, when she's alone in her little flat (the one she rented the moment the news reached her and the sight of her family home was too much to bare), with a piece of paper and a pen in hand, free to write everything down, no matter how sad and heartbreaking her thoughts were. Now she had to play her part, no matter how tiring it was.

"I'm very glad you came. Your father and I have some things to discuss with you."

Marlene moved slightly, her posture still too haunched for a lady like her, but she was in no way changing it. She had no strength to sit straight for another hour.

"What is it, then?" she asked, hostility visible in her voice. She wasn't supposed to be here, not when he wasn't.

Someone walked into the room, and a familiar figure sat in front of her. Marlene tried not to frown: her father wasn't the nicest of people and and whatever it was what he wanted to tell her, she was sure she wouldn't exactly like it.

Father always cared more about his own interest than his children's happiness.

"You must know we want to talk about our family business" he started, his cold, steady tone infuriating in a way Marlene couldn't exactly explain. He never liked father either.

She turned her head away, looking into those blue eyes, exactly the same as his, too much for her to handle, for not to break there and now.

"It's been almost half a year since your brother's death, is high time you take his responsibilities" father explained calmly. How could he be so indifferent? "You were always our brightest child, you know your way in business, I'm sure you'll be the perfect heir for the company. Of course, you'll need to work with me and my assistants more often, but I talked with them already, they'll gladly help you improve your knowledge."

Marlene clenched her teeth, the conversation already feeling way too improper, violating his memory. Father talked like he could be replaced, just like that, no second thoughts.

"Is that all?" she asked, her voice unusually cold. She just wanted to get out, and quickly.

"No, it is not." Marlene closed her eyes for a second and tried to compose her thoughts. She took the cup of coffee Sammie made for her the moment she appeared, with her usual smile and kind nature; the drink was already cold, but she didn't care. She wasn't going to drink it, she just needed something to keep her hands occupied.

She stayed silent, just looking at father, no warm feelings in her eyes.

"Our family's reputation is endangered ever since Maximillian's death. We need some good publicity if we don't want to strain our hotels' good name. The upcoming Selection of Crown Prince Oleander is the perfect opportunity to deflect people's attention from your brother's death and focus on you."

Marlene listened in silence, too stunned to say anything. The Selection as a distraction from what happened to Max? Was father serious, proposing such thing after everything he did?

She felt anger boiling in her, and she couldn't bare that calm, cold stare any longer.

She snapped.

"You can't be serious!" she huffed, her eyes wide. "You do realise it's your fault it happened? You were never happy with him, you always criticised everything he did. Why do you think he started taking in the first place?"

She felt hot tears at the corners of her eyes; she wiped them angrily.

"He did everything you asked for, and still he was never good enough. How can you just sit here, being all calm and pretending it's no big deal? How can you plan what to do to make people forget, as if he never matter anyway? Max killed himself and it's your fault! It's your fucking fault!"

She was full on crying, the anger she kept hidden throughout all these months finally out. Father was a bastard, she hoped he knew that.

He just looked at her, waiting for the tears to stop; Marlene was breathing hard, her cheeks warm from anger.

"Are you done?" he asked, nothing in his presence showing Marlene's outburst affected him in any way.

She laughed, the sound broken and bitter.

"Yes, I am done" she replied, eyes avoiding her parents again.

"Great."

And it was heartbreaking, the simplicity of it:
A father that never loved his son, a daughter that mourned it.

She wished she had a pen with her.

"Just as I said earlier, the Crown finally announced the Selection. You'll apply; we have your form here, you just need to fill it. I'll take care of the rest; I have enough contacts to make sure you have a spot, so there's no need for you to worry that pretty head of yours."

Marlene listened, her thoughts chaotic. Being a Selected in Prince Oleander's Selection? As much as she wanted to hate the idea, just because it was a way for father to take attention from Max's death, she was more than willing to go; everything, just to get away from this place for a little while longer, until all the pain goes away and she can finally breathe.

Marlene nodded, looking straight into father's eyes.

"I'll do it" she said, her voice steadier than before, full of power, just like the old her. Father smiled – something that hardly ever happened – a ghost of Max in his blue eyes.

"I knew you would, Marlene" he replied, taking his leave. "You were always the sensible one."

She didn't have an answer to that; as much as she wanted to oppose, there was some truth in the sentence: as much as she wanted to run away and go to Europe, become a poet, her family came in the first place. She needed to be strong and take care of their business, something neither one of her sisters could do.

But she was ready to disappear, even if just for a week.

Hello again! It took me one more day to post the chapter because as always I decided to change one whole POV last minute, I'm just that person #sorrynotsorry. But still, here we go again, hope you like it! I had fun writing all the POVs and exploring new characters.

The beautiful girls you met this chapter are: Alexandra Gibson by The Cruel Pringle, Johanna Moremont by TechnicolorNoize, Antonella Vela by ArkoseAnna and Marlene Heinrich by MissArtsy. Thank you so much for submitting them, they're all amazing. Hope you like the way I write them!

Next chapter you'll meet another four amazing girls, stay tuned!

Chapter 5: Feb 23 or 24 (I give myself one more day, just in case).