.:*:.

NICHOLE

"Why do the Selected keep passing by my room?" A voice wonders behind me, and I'm able to keep from jumping by a stroke of luck. I slowly turn around and come face to face with the eldest prince. He's leaning against the wall, his legs crossed loosely; he's scrolling through something on his screen without looking at the screen itself.

"Your highness," I greet him. "I haven't seen you at dinner for the past few days."

"Yeah, I was... off doing some crazy stuff," the prince admits, running a hand through his hair. "Nothing that serious, though. Anyway," he continues, uncrossing his legs, "Why do the Selected keep passing by my room? I knew I was hot, but not this hot."

I resist the urge to laugh. "This is the way to the pool, from what I've heard..."

"The pool! Is this, like, a national pool day or whatever? Why's everyone going to the pool? It's gonna be a slimy walk there, anyway - since you'll need to get past the garden, and it's been raining at night the last couple of weeks..."

"One of the Selected sent a group message to everyone, inviting us over for a pool party. Most of us wanted to come - we really don't have anything to do these days."

"Yeah?" Prince Sebastian says, raising an eyebrow. "What's the girl's name?"

I eye him warily. "Why do you ask, your highness?"

"There's no need to look that affronted. I'm just curious as to who came up with the brilliant idea of throwing a pool party on such a perfect day like this."

I tilt my head. Didn't he just say it was going to be a slimy walk to the pool?

"Slimy is good," Prince Sebastian tells me, and this time I definitely jump. For a split second, I wonder if he has a secret superpower of reading others' thoughts, but then I think - is his intuition so advanced that he can tell what others are thinking just by a glance at them?

Or maybe it was just a good guess, I don't know.

"It's good," the prince repeats - seemingly innocent of the fact that he just read my mind, but his smirk tells me otherwise - "because it's fun. Anyway," he says just as a ping sounds from his pocket, "I have a meeting to attend around now - of course, I was planning on being rather fashionably late, but it seems," he checks his messages and groans, "that my parents are not going to let this one go. So, Lady Nichole, I gotta get going. See you at dinner?"

"Sure," I tell him, and watch as he waves, then quickly starts walking, soon breaking into a run as he tries to minimize his tardiness. He disappears behind a corner, but I can still hear him as he sprints to wherever his destination is.

I grin. He's the definition of an insolent prince, but somehow, to my eyes he seems pretty damn cute.

As soon as the thought comes into mind, I mentally slap myself. What am I doing? I think furiously, Am I planning on falling in love with everyone in the palace? I definitely look up to the Royals' charm and fancy way with words, along with their overall aura of being somewhat divine... But by some twist of emotion, that feeling has turned to one of unfiltered admiration.

I hate that this is happening. I should probably distance myself from the Royals for a while. It can't be that hard to do so.

Then I realize we live in the same palace, however enormous it may be - and anyway, dinner is just around the corner.

I groan. This is gonna be harder than I thought.

.:*:.

PRINCE SEBASTIAN

I barely listen to the contents of the meeting as I wrack my brain, trying to figure out who in the world would throw a pool party at this time in the Selection.

It's not that big of a deal, really - just pretty surprising. It's nice of whoever it is to invite all the girls and whatnot, but it's a bold gesture on her part. They would be from a higher caste, if they had the luxury of both experiencing many pool parties and throwing them as well. And if they're of a high caste, they would've been trained on palace etiquette; which, unlike most others, requires a sense of understanding exactly what is the norm without having it told directly to one's own face.

The palace has revealed that it would be maximizing the amount of events for the Selection, which undoubtedly includes events at the pool, the beach, whatever... And yet, before any of the events have occurred, she has decided to throw a party of her own, focusing the cameras on her - she will definitely act a certain way as to attract public attention in front of the cameras, while also creating the illusion of caring for the other Selected, killing two birds with one stone. At first glance, this may seem a light incident; however, this is an important time in the Selection, when the Selected either build or break their reputations and height of public support. The majority of them are most likely to retain a demeanor of both poise and careful politeness - but not this one. Cunningly bold, with a thirst for power; she would be a dangerous person to have as a member of the Selected.

- Hey, everyone, I message in the group chat for servants in the palace, - who's on pool duty right now?

- Probably Jax, someone replies right away. Soon after, their words are repeated:

- yeah i think its jax

- Wait, isn't it Luca

- nah, Jax

- Yeah, it's me, Jax himself confirms, - but there r a lot of ppl here so i just called someone else to help that someone is luca - Why do you ask?

- Who's at the pool right now? I question.

It takes him a while to answer. - too many ppl. mostly female. so probably the selected im rly busy rn sry wait a sec ill ask

After a moment he texts, - someone named nichole just told me her name

That's the girl who I talked to a while ago, so it's not her. - can you ask someone if they know who invited them?

- i asked & one of them didnt know another said someone named something i forget starts w/ a V ill ask again. - veronica mayb? or monica im not sure, the pool is so fking loud rn

- thank you, Jax, I reply, and fold my screen back into a tight square, shoving it into my pocket. It would be Veronica Sonnenfeld, then - she was on my list of suspected from the start. I inwardly scoff, thinking of the way she sidled up to my brother on the first dinner, not even bothering to hide her thirst for the crown. It was something I'd definitely expect from her; it's not even surprising.

"Sebastian," Father calls, and I whip my head up to meet his eyes, "What is your opinion on this matter?"

I smirk. "I think the trade should be permitted," I reply, lazily enough to scratch at my father's tolerance. Multitasking has never been a problem for me - after a few experiences of having the spotlight thrown at myself in the most unexpected situations, I developed a strange skill of managing in my head an abundance of different concepts at once. Father, who has always wished to have me turn my attention to nothing but the subject in hand, looks decidedly uncomfortable whenever I pretend to lose concentration during an important meeting - which, of course, makes me enjoy doing exactly that.

"Do you have a reason for your answer?" an advisor queries, and I shrug.

"I mean, considering the recent developments with the airport in Dehargo, it would be a nice idea to pay some of the countries back with a trade. In some ways, it's beneficial to us as well."

"Do you think so?" Again, one of the questions I hate the most.

"I just said, I think the trade should be permitted, which obviously indicates that 'I think so,'" I retort, and the advisor goes red.

"Yes, of course, your highness," he murmurs, while Mother and Father both pass me swift glares - but I'm too preoccupied to care.

What is that woman's strategy? I wrack my brain, trying to figure it out. She did display some... abnormal behavior during her first few days. While her appearance definitely hypnotized a large group of citizens, the majority of them were skeptical, if not wary, of her actions. Veronica Sonnenfeld would've realized that her initial strategy would fail to win over my brother. She would be working on a different approach by now... in all probability, a subdued one. Is she trying to appeal herself to the crowds? Show off another side of herself, mask her thirst with a tame, gentle personality?

One can always predict, but predictions invariably leave room for doubt. I can always predict Veronica Sonnenfeld's tactics of making her way to the crown, whether it be a misunderstood persona or blatant control; however, because there is room for doubt, I cannot openly accuse her of any atrocities. Any suspicions I have should be proven first before I go any further - and, therefore, I have no right to warn Alex and plant a seed of mistrust in his mind, consequently creating a bias against a member of the Selected. By doing so, I would be violating one of the most fundamental rules of the Selection. In order to remove Veronica Sonnenfeld from the Selection, my brother must figure out the discrepancies himself.

While I trust Alex - being a Royal, he can tell masks apart from true emotions almost as well as I - I still can't bring myself to shake off the growing worry in my mind. Alex may be able to differentiate between hunger for power and longing for love, but he hasn't been exposed to the same situations I have been shoved into multiple times. It's hardly a secret that I like to disguise myself and sneak out the palace at night - I'd visit all sorts of places, clubs mostly, and experience as many... fraudulencies as I could. I hung out with delinquents in all places just because they were the furthest thing from the palace that I knew of. During my time spent with them, I witnessed transgressions of all degrees, I learned of the endless depths into which humanity could fall, I was forced to train myself against a myriad of different crimes, mischief, misconduct. I may not have been to the far ends of evil, but I'd like to believe I've seen enough to know when something is leaning towards any of the previous faults.

Veronica Sonnenfeld isn't just a mild irritation. She's dangerous. I've been sensing it ever since the first dinner, and now, more than ever, I can see it clearly. Who in the world would accept an invitation from a competitor they've been wary of since the start of the Selection? Veronica never hid her distaste for the rest of the Selected. She would be considered an enemy among most of the girls - but why were they all so eager to join her supposed pool party? How did she manage to bewitch them into trusting someone obviously unapproachable? Even Nichole Marie Stevens seemed to be unsuspecting of the sudden invitation - from what I've observed during the past few dinners, she's pretty secretive when it comes to personal topics, and doesn't open up as easily as most of the other Selected. But even she accepted the invite without much thought. Would the others have done the same? I inwardly shudder at the idea.

The meeting lasts three hours. By the end, the pool party will have reached its peak. A few hours later, it will slowly start dwindling away... the girls will, one by one, get out of the pool to prepare themselves for dinner.

Meaning, I don't have much time.

...

.:*:.

ELIZABETH

I've always had a thing for sunsets.

Their beauty, of course, is undeniably phenomenal. Each day, the sky is splashed with a combination of colors that are similar and yet never the same. Scarlet swirls with gold, turning a deep chestnut shade; it flares outwards and fades into a beautiful turquoise that fills the sky with its brightness. Touches of magenta are added to the mix, blending together to create a vivid panorama that seems too artistic to be true.

Sunsets never fail. No matter the location, no matter the atmosphere, they never disappoint. No matter how often I sit and stare into the horizon, watching a sunset always feels like a dream.

I stand in the middle of a totally random hall, my attire a billowing white dress that makes me want to twirl around and around until I feel dizzy and warm all over. I stay still, though, and hold my hands out in front of me, my fingers outstretched toward the flaming orange sunlight that filters through the large windows and spills all over the marble floors. I close my eyes, drinking in the warmth - when I hear the sound of footsteps behind me.

I jump and immediately start to panic, frantically searching for a place to hide. I'm not entirely sure if I'm allowed to be here, in this random hall - the only reason why I entered was because the sunset looks amazing from this view. Dozens of horrible possibilities cross my mind, but the hall is completely empty - with the exception of a single table. I quickly scurry under it and hope the owner of the footsteps is just passing by.

It's too late. I cringe in embarrassment as whoever it is enters the room. The footsteps falter at the doorway, the person standing still for a frightening moment during which I tremble in fear, but they say nothing and simply continue walking. I shut my eyes tight as the footsteps come closer, closer...

"Hi." Right beside my ear.

I scream, hysterically scrambling out from under the table. I try to stand up and run, but the panic electrifying my spine has made my legs wobbly and I trip over myself, collapsing on the floor. I curl myself up in a hopefully defensive ball, my eyes still scrunched up in an attempt to save myself from acknowledging my deathly humiliation.

For a few long moments, there's no sound apart from my unsteady breathing.

Then - shockingly - the mystery person starts laughing.

I slowly open my eyes, which widen when I see none other than the third prince of Illéa, who's holding a plate of sandwiches in one hand and a drink in another. The drink is wobbling dangerously in his shaking hand as his body trembles uncontrollably in fits of laughter. I sit there and stare at him as he straightens back up, still snickering - then he takes one look at me and cracks up again.

I realize my mouth is agape and quickly shut it, cheeks warming in embarrassment. I duck my head and stay silent as Prince Logan slowly manages to get a hold of himself and shakes his head as if he's trying to get rid of his laughter. He's still grinning widely when he meets my eyes.

Remembering the brief lessons on etiquette we've been taught on the plane, I quickly stand up. "Your highness," I say, dipping my head, "Um, I... I didn't..."

Prince Logan's eyes twinkle in amusement. "I certainly did not expect to see you hiding under a table in Orivarre Hall either, Lady Elizabeth."

I didn't know it was possible to suffocate in mortification. "Your highness, I... am I not supposed to be here?"

"That's not what I meant," the prince tells me, "it's simply that this hall is... rarely found by newcomers. It isn't widely known, and quite hard to find."

"Oh," I say, "uh... is it weird that I feel kinda special now?" I give him a shaky grin, hoping he isn't, like, angry at me or something.

I hold back a sigh of relief when Prince Logan laughs again, a bright smile lighting up his generally serious face. I smile back and relax as I realize I'm not in trouble. My actions clearly went against what's considered "proper" in the palace, but I'm glad Prince Logan doesn't mind.

"Lady Elizabeth," the prince says, "What brought you here?"

"I..." Will he think I'm stupid if I tell him? "I just wanted to see the sunset." I pause, then add, "your highness."

Prince Logan's expression brightens. "I guess I'm not the only one."

"Wait, you came here for the sunset too?"

He hesitates for a moment, then says, "Not necessarily here, but yes."

"Um, okay. Will my presence bother you?"

"No, it's fine. I'm glad to be able to share this experience with someone else. Few people are able to appreciate the sunset."

"Oh, uh, thanks, I guess?"

He grins. "I brought some food - I didn't plan on meeting you here, so I only took enough for one - but if you do not mind... Please help yourself." He sets his plate and drink on the table I was previously hiding under.

"I... thank you, your highness," I say quietly, reaching over and picking up a sandwich. It reminds me of home.

Prince Logan smiles. "You're welcome," he replies, and walks up to the large window. He alters the distance for a moment, then - to my surprise - sits down on the floor, a few feet away from the glass.

I don't know much about the third prince of Illéa, just that he has this courtly, sophisticated air about him; even when sitting on the ground. Like, all the Royals have that air about themselves, but Prince Logan is more of like... I don't know, his behavior stretches far beyond simple politeness. It's less like he has good manners, but more like he's sincerely feeling empathy for anyone in the room - like he's being courteous not for the sake of etiquette, but simply because he genuinely wants to.

I walk over to him, holding my sandwich. For a short minute, I stand next to the prince and try to enjoy the sunset that way, but as it feels awkward and disrespectful to be standing over the prince of a country, I slowly sit down next to him, making sure to keep a civil distance. I glance at Prince Logan and see that he's turned his face to the glass, the bright, fiery sunset igniting his face in a blanket of flames.

We sit and watch, without a word, as the sun glows and floods the sky with its warmth. After a while, I can feel the familiar feeling of warmth and comfort settling over me, the emotion that always relaxes me on hard days.

"Do you do this often?" the prince asks quietly, as the blazing sunset begins to dwindle and fade.

"Oh, you mean watching the sunset?"

He nods.

"Sure, your highness, I think I do it pretty often. Although, it always happens within the course of a few minutes, so I usually can't see it on time."

Prince Logan nods again, and I feel the need to stop rambling on about myself. "What about you, your highness? Do you, like, watch the sunset normally, or was today just a special day?"

He gives me a slight smile. "I've always found it hard to keep up with the fleetness of sunsets, especially on days when I have much work to do. I'm always up for the sunrise, but because I usually miss sunsets, I try to make it up by stargazing instead."

I grin. "That's great, your highness, I love stargazing - there's just this... I don't know, supernatural aura in night skies."

"Certainly," the prince replies, nodding again.

We stay silent for a few moments, just standing there and watching as the last rays of sunlight sink beyond the horizon. It's nearly time for dinner, but neither of us make any move to leave.

After a while, Prince Logan opens his mouth. "It's time for the evening meal, Lady Elizabeth," he murmurs, lowering his voice to refrain from shattering the dreamy atmosphere.

"Right," I say, nodding vigorously. "Right. Dinner." I sigh. "Guess we need to go." It's getting dark now, the last shades of warmth fading from the sky. I know I need to leave, but I keep staring out of the windows, wishing I had more time, hating to walk away from this beautiful scene. It's the only luxury in the palace that's shared with my home - the sunset I'm enjoying here in Anveires is the same sunset my parents will be working under, in our bakery back in Quinnt. I realize they would be closing up the bakery now. I always helped them clean and manage the store during this time of day... Yet another reminder of the new gap in my life.

The prince reaches over and lightly tugs on my sleeve. I jump, momentarily broken from my reverie, then turn to look at him. He's wearing not a sympathetic smile, but an empathetic one. At this moment, I have no doubt he understands what I'm feeling right now.

"Dinner," he reminds me, "It's time for dinner." He offers me his arm and waits.

"Right. Okay." I heave another sigh. "Okay. Dinner. Let's go, I mean, how about we go, your highness?" I practically wrench myself away from the glass, stumbling upright.

"If you insist," the prince replies teasingly, matching my pace as we walk out of the room. We turn around a corner and walk down a set of spiraling stairs, across several halls and bustling hallways.

We're nearly at the hallway that leads to the west palace when I look down and realize I haven't changed. I'm wearing a flowy day dress, one that is nothing close to the fancy gowns we're expected to wear for the evening meal.

"What's wrong?" Prince Logan asks when I abruptly come to a halt in the middle of the hallway.

I wordlessly gesture at my body, my eyes wide with horror - I'll be late for the evening meal! - then remember that I'm in the presence of an actual prince. "My dress, your highness, I'll need to go change - "

"It's okay, they won't mind," the prince reassures me, "and anyhow, what do you think will make you more self-conscious, being in casual attire or being unpunctual for the evening meal?"

I frown as I think of both possibilities. "Um... both?"

Prince Logan laughs. "It's fine, really. Please. Trust me."

How can I not? He's the third prince, after all - that's the thing about him, everyone trusts Prince Logan.

So I nod and start walking again, attempting to ignore the fact that I'm underdressed - even though, when Prince Logan holds the door open and gestures for me to enter first, I'm yet again reminded of the courtliness and dignity of the palace. I follow the prince into the warm, bright light that signals the dining hall, still in the hopefully-not-too-outrageous outfit that I'm worried will get me eliminated, but deciding to risk the chance. After all, as Piper said...

What's a Selection without the risk?

.:*:.