CHAPTER 21

Wednesday, the 18th of December

Princess Carolynn Schreave

How was it even possible for this many boys to have birthdays in December? Look, I'm not a mathematician (Though maybe my old tutors would say otherwise, I did get fairly high marks if I do say so myself), but it just seems ridiculous. 35 boys with 12 months in the year would have been about 3 each month, but I had eliminated roughly more than half at this point. The results of this are just completely absurd.

Anyway, now instead of doing something that I actually wanted to do, Divesh and I were going to a bakery for his birthday.

Okay, to be fair, I don't mind the going to the bakery part. The bakery in question happens to have a delicious creme brulee. Plus, their macaroons towers are to die for. They catered the desserts for my 18th birthday. Those were all over the magazines and trashy tabloids in the weeks that followed. I don't even mind the going with Divesh part. He's nice, and funny, and handsome and...other stuff.

I just don't like being told what to do. Especially by a B-list celebrity with fake teeth and even faker nails. I don't understand why Lindsay thought she had more of a say over my selection then I do and why my mother bothered to indulge her was beyond me. Surely they could have sold interviews and photographs to newspapers without having to involve Lindsay.

She's like going to the opera. At first it's nice and you feel all cool, 10 minutes in you want to bash your head against a wall and leave.

"Jenna," I call out beckoning my maid over. "How long is the date going to last?"

"I'm not sure, Your Highness. It doesn't say in the schedule."

Well, how long do you think it's going to last?"

"I...I can ask Miss Holt how long she plans on filming," Jenna volunteers unsurely. Not exactly what I was asking, but close enough I guess.

Well, not really but details.

"Do that," I instruct, looking into the mirror on the back of my closet door, "Also, tell Divesh's butler that I'm ready to leave in 15 minutes. I don't want to prolong this any longer then I absolutely have to."

"Did you get Sir Agarwal a gift for his birthday?" Jenna asks.

I have to roll my eyes at that one. I'm not a cold-hearted monster. It's his birthday, of course, I got him a gift. And, I actually got him a gift because I felt it was a nice thing to do, not because Tex had mentioned his present in his interview with Lindsay and I would look totally biased if I didn't. People need to have a little more appreciation for me.

"No, I decided that my company was present enough. What more could he possibly want?" I deadpan.

Jenna looks like she's not sure if I'm kidding or not.

"Of course I got him a gift. It's in the bag over there." I say, flicking my hand towards the left corner of my room. I had someone else wrap it, since I can't do it to save myself, but Divesh doesn't need to know that.

"Oh..what did you get him?" Jenna asks cautiously.

"One of those smart watches. I was going to get him a microscope because he is such a med nerd, but I thought he might take it the wrong way." I tell her.

"That's very thoughtful." Jenna says quietly. I hope she meant that sincerely. Ugh, whatever. "I'll go speak to Miss Holt, and Sir Agarwal's butler."

"Good," I say, not turning to look at her. To be frank, Jenna was getting on my nerves today. I don't really feel like having to explain myself to her. God, when did she become so judgemental?

"Your mother also said that she wanted you to go on a date tomorrow…" Jenna doesn't elaborate further, correctly assuming that I'm not going to be particularly happy about the news.

"Of course she does," I mutter under my breath. My meddlesome mother. I swear, why can't I just have a normal selection on my own terms like everyone else before me? Instead, I got stuck with a micromanaging mother who just simply needs to control every aspect of when I go on a date and who I go with.

"She has a few suggestions of who she would like you to go with. Boys who the public hasn't seen yet."

"Oh, who?" I ask, trying my best to look interested.

"George, Dale, Micheal," Jenna continues listing boys as I mentally tune her out. You know what, I'm not giving into her demands.

"I'll go with Nathaniel." I say, interrupting her in the middle of her sentence."

"That wasn't on the list of selected that her Majesty sent me," Jenna says nervously.

"Well, that's simply too bad. Tell her Majesty that I'm going with Nathaniel and if she wants me to listen to her in the future that she should talk to me instead of having you do her dirty work." I state bluntly.

"...of course, Your Highness." Jenna doesn't meet my gaze as she answers. I'm sure she'll give Mom a much nicer version of what I said, but that really doesn't matter. Jenna can use all the euphemisms and pretty words as she wants, the message will get through. Mom might be many things but stupid is not one of them.

Which means that she'll either be apologizing to me -or grounding me- when I come back from the bakery today. Ridiculous, it's not as if she can actually ground me. I'm an adult for heaven's sake. I don't need people who think they know better then me to make decisions that are supposed to be mine.

"Perfect, thank you, Jenna." I say, tipping my head towards the door, indicating for her to leave. I'll flip through a new magazine and then head down to meet Divesh. I hope he's on time. If there's one thing I hate it's being late.

"Is it weird that I'm excited?" Divesh asks, chuckling nervously as the limousine pulls away from the palace. He already complimented me on how I look today, and though I didn't say anything, I can't help but notice that he doesn't look too bad himself.

"Kinda," I answer, giggling. "It's just a bakery you know. We're not going on a trip to the Bermuda Triangle."

"Right, sorry. I looked at the website earlier and it looks really cool," Divesh tells me, peering out the window at Angeles. "Apparently they catered your birthday party?" What should be a statement sounds more like a question from Divesh.

"Yep. That's some good research." I tell him, smiling a little. "Color me impressed."

"Really?"

"Yeah…" I give him a double glance, "Not everyone would do that before a date with the princess. I mean, they should but they don't." I say, only half-kidding. To be honest, the lack of effort some of the guys were giving into their dates with me were getting borderline annoying. It's almost as if they think just showing up and being themselves is enough for them to stay in the selection. Pathetic really.

"Oh, wow." Divesh says quietly, "Uh, thank you."

"So, tell me, what's your favorite color?" I ask.

"Blue," Divesh answers promptly. "I guess that's not that interesting though."

"Blue is a nice color," I tell him. "Are any colors really that interesting?"

"I don't know...there are some cool colors. Like, maybe aquamarine? That would be a good color to be my favorite."

"Hey, no backsies. You already said you like blue, you can't change your mind," I remind him, tapping his shoulder.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to …"

"I'm just messing with you," I say, laughing slightly because Divesh was starting to look worried that he somehow mortally offended me with the sole offense of changing his favorite color from blue to aquamarine.

"Oh okay." Divesh says, looking relieved.

"Besides, it's your birthday, I can't be mad at you on your birthday now can I?"

"That goes against the unspoken rules of birthdays." Divesh adds, his face flushing slightly as he made the joke. It's quite adorable really, and I can't help but feel a rush of fondness as I look at him. Well, if I had to go on a date to the bakery with someone for their birthday, I'm happy it was him.

To think, I could have been stuck doing this with Micheal Levison. Good thing his birthday is in March...or October...or some equally boring month.

"Quite right it does," I tell him. "So, how's med school going?"

"It's uh...going." Divesh says nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

"What's wrong with it?"

"I don't know, it's kinda hard to follow everything, you know, bacteria and cells, it's confusing, but I'm sure it'll get better." Divesh attempts to look confident, but the corners of his mouth still frown a little as he considers his predicament.

"Yeah. I mean, it's the end of the year. I'm sure teachers are just being mean with finals and everything," I say, patting him on the back. This seems to make him perk up a bit.

"Maybe. Probably. You're right. Maybe if I tell them that the crown princess said that, they'll give me extra credit."

"Sure, I'll even write them a letter," I offer, semi-joking. If he really wanted me to, I would do it. Possibly. It's his birthday, and well, I guess I don't really care about the morality of people's grades. Life is a competition and if Divesh needs a little help with his grades, I wouldn't refuse. That would be an abuse of power, more than emailing his teachers to inflate his grades,

"You don't need to do that," Divesh says, looking alarmed "Seriously it's fine."

"Well, you're in luck because I wasn't planning on doing it anyway," I tell him, lying through my teeth. What he doesn't know won't hurt him.

"Thanks for offering, though." Divesh chuckles lightly, "That might be a better birthday gift than my watch," he pauses for a second, "Not that I don't like my watch. I do. It's a great present. Sorry, I didn't mean.."

"I know what you meant." I assure him, grinning slightly. He really is a nervous mess. Ah well. "Anyway, I think we're here. Are you ready to go?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Well, not really." I tell him, as one of the guards opens the door. Someone must have leaked news of our appearance at the bakery to the press, because there were hordes of people standing outside, ranging from journalists representing serious papers, to magazines that use my name as click-bait. There's the occasional regular person thrown in as well, tourists who saw the crowd and thought something cool must be going on, and Angeles natives who must have read about the appearance somewhere.

Either way, it's the same smile and wave as I make my way into the bakery. Eyes straight ahead and my steps delicate while being with purpose. Divesh seems somewhat disconcerted by the crowds, and he looks around nervously before following my lead into the building.

"I wasn't expecting that," Divesh says, looking back at the paparazzi through the glass front of the bakery, his teeth worry at his bottom lip. "I knew I was going to have to do an interview with Lindsay, but I didn't know all those people were going to come."

"To be honest, I didn't either." I told him. "Probably some assistant let the details slip."

"That's a bad thing right?" Divesh asks to clarify.

I wave my hand dismissively, "Eh. Not really. It happens every once in a while, you just need to get used to it." He certainly will, considering his status after this whole selection is over. The paparazzi will never stop hounding him, even when it's become quite clear that Divesh -like all the other boys- are my rejects. It's a pity really, but I suppose it must happen. He'll get used to it, I mean, he did decide to sign up for the selection. He must have at least been expecting this.

"Oh, that seems like it sucks." Divesh says lightly.

"Yeah...well, it's just part of the deal when you're royalty," I appraise him for a moment, "and in the selection of royalty."

Divesh smiles, "Huh. I never really… nevermind. Anyway, so are we supposed to get dessert?"

"Well, I think you're supposed to do your interview with Lindsay first," I instruct him. "She likes to do it before people eat so that they have something to look forward to after." I lower my voice slightly as I speak, "You will not believe how many guests used to bolt when she worked on late-night talk shows. Force of habit I guess."

Divesh looks interested in this, "Wait really? I didn't know she had a talk show."

"She kinda did," I purse my lips for a second, trying to remember, "It was more like she was an assistant on another person's show, but now Lindsay works for the report, so I guess she really upgraded."

"The best talk show in all of the country," Divesh pauses, considering something "Though I guess I haven't listened to many."

"You haven't?" I ask curiously.

"I haven't really had time."

"Well then, Mr. Agarwal, we simply must introduce you to the cinematic wonder that is Illéan late-night talk shows." I tell him.

"Okay, I guess I don't have a choice in the matter."

"It's like macaroons, " I say, "Once you have one you can't stop. You'll love them, I promise."

Divesh nods, before turning his attention to the pastry cases, "What do you think I should get? I mean, I'm assuming you've been here before."

"What's your favorite dessert?"

Divesh shrugs noncommittally, "I like them all. I don't want to offend any pastries by saying I don't like them as much as the others. That would be rude to the desserts."

"I don't think desserts have feelings," I point out rolling my eyes. He's growing on me though, I'll admit to that, even if what he says is sometimes stupid.

"Oh, right." Divesh's cheeks flush a dark red, and he looks at the pastry case for a few more seconds. "Nevermind."

Luckily for him, Lindsay chooses this moment to walk in, her loud voice echoing over the empty bakery. "Perfect you're both here. Mr. Agarwal, the cameramen need to set up, and then we'll start your interview. Don't worry, I promise it will be very short." Lindsay says briskly, not really looking at either of us, instead focusing on her pink-cased phone. Her outfit is equally as outrageous as her phone case. A tight, blinding pink off-the-shoulder blouse matched with a white skirt and heels. It's well put together, and if it was me, probably would have been on the cover of fashion week. Still, it just looks ridiculous on her who's supposed to at least attempt to look serious.

Divesh nods quickly, "Yeah, I'm ready whenever you are."

Lindsay nods her head, blond curls spilling forwards. A few minutes later, after some guys whose names I don't know finished setting up their portable camera and two of the nicest folding chairs I've ever seen, Lindsay beckons Divesh to sit on the one opposite from her.

I stand in the corner, quietly (Only because the cameras pick up audio) sulking. It's not fair that all my selected get to be in interviews and have their pictures taken while I just tag along. Wouldn't these companies be more interested in me rather than a few royal wannabes?

"Divesh, from all of us here in Illéa, let me start by wishing you the happiest birthday. How does it feel to be celebrating in the bakery that catered our very own princess' birthday party?"

Divehs laughs lightly before answering, "You know, when I read that on the website, I was really surprised. I..I guess I'm happy to, uh, be in such a wonderful restaurant."

Lindsay must pick up on his discomfort because she gives her best fake laugh. "Yes, you should be. Their pecan tarts are to die for, are you planning on trying them?" It's a baby question, one that only requires a yes or no answer.

"I guess I am now."

"You're going to love them, I promise you that. Now, what did Her Highness get you for your birthday?"

"She got me a smart watch." Divesh answers nervously, one of his hands tapping against his thigh.

"A smart watch!" Lindsay exclaims, even though she already knew the answer, "I wish someone would get me one of those for my birthday. I should have entered the selection. If I was younger, and well, male. Anyway, it doesn't do well to dwell on problems of the past now does it?"

"I try not to."

"See, now that's advice I would like to live by. Remind us of how old you're turning Divesh?"

"22."

"Not quite as momentous as an occasion as your 21st birthday, but that's certainly something. And what better company to spend it with ten the princess herself. Boy, am I jealous of you, and I'm sure most of Illéa is too. Well then, we don't want to keep you from them any longer, so once again, happy birthday and place enjoy the rest of your day!" Lindsay holds her smile until the red light above the camera flicks off.

"That wasn't too bad," Divesh says, speaking mostly to himself.

"No. It could have been better, but whatever." Lindsay shakes her head slightly, running a hand through her blond curls. "I need a margarita."

Divesh watches her go over to the register before coming to stand by me, "She's certainly something," he says. "Could it really have been that much better? I didn't think…"

I pause before answering. On principle I don't like to sugar coat things, but Divesh looks so...hopeful. And it's his birthday. Ugh. Fine, I'll give a little white lie just this once, but this is the last time for my entire selection. I have no need for boosting up these men's egos.

"Yeah, I mean, I thought it was good. Like, obviously it could have been better but everything could be better in hindsight, you know?" I ask, glossing over his question. Now neither of us are sad. Perfect.

"Okay, good," Divesh answers looking relieved.

"Now then, I'm in the mood for a chocolate cake. What do you think?"

"I think I just told the country I was getting a pecan tart, but I like chocolate cake too."

"We'll get both." I decide, looking towards one of my guards to order for us. Considering that she's currently hovering over me, I would be willing to bet that she had heard my decision.

The food is delicious, just like I knew it would be. It's not like I would go to a bakery that wasn't good. I do have standards. Divesh seems to be equally happy, looking pleased with both the dessert and the know what, I might have whined and complained all day, but I had fun. I had fun with Divesh.

Wow. That's not a first for the selection but still. I had enjoyed his company today and that was certainly saying something.

"Nathaniel," I greet as he comes into the foyer. Slightly late, but not late enough for me to say anything about it. God damn the person who came up with the 5 minute grace period. I swear to God, if I had a time machine the first thing I would do would be to go back and make sure that it's never invented.

And stop world wars and all that jazz. That would be a definite close second after stopping the 5 minute grace period.

Definitely.

"Princess," he says bowing, "You look nice."

I smile, "I do, don't I." It's true. I'm wearing a white sweater and dark jeans, a silver necklace and matching bracelet adorning my neck and wrist. My hair was curly, pulled back with a dark blue headband. Personally, I didn't think I looked any better then I did every other day, but that's not saying much, considering that I always looked picture perfect.

Nathaniel has only been with me for a month though, I guess that lesson wouldn't have sunk it yet. Soon though, he'll learn.

"You do." Nathaniel clears his throat, "So, if you don't mind me asking, where are we going today. My butler didn't know."

I make a face. "Oh. Jenna -that's my maid- probably didn't tell him. Whatever, no big deal. We're going to this...petting zoo."

"Petting zoo?" Nathaniel asks, almost as if he didn't quite hear me.

"It's a not for profit, and anyway, they say that they have reindeer, so we can't be too judgemental, can we?" I ask rhetorically.

"Reindeer? I hate to break it to you, Princess, but I don't think reindeer are real," Nathaniel jokes, laughing.

"Yeah, obviously. You have to use your imagination silly." I tell him, reaching on my tiptoes to try and pat him on the head. Unfortunately, he's about a foot taller than me so I have to settle for patting his shoulder instead.

"I can certainly try," Nathaniel assures me. "It sounds cool."

Oh. Honestly, reindeer aside, I thought it sounded boring. All the not for profit organizations that I visit are. I know they always have some important meaning and a plan to make the world a utopian fantasy, but honestly, they don't seem to understand what they want to achieve is unrealistic. No ALD, we can't feasibly introduce a program to give everyone a companion animal. It sounds nice in theory but there are allergies, people who can't take care of pets, and so many other things they don't take into account.

It's nauseating honestly.

"Probably," I say, not bothering to inform him of what I really think about this stupid organzation. Whatever, nothing I can do about that. "Anyway, are you ready to go?"

"Of course." Nathaniel answers, as we walk out of the palace and into the same limousine I took yesterday. "So, Princess, what are you doing for the secret santa?"

I giggle slightly, "I'm not doing anything. It's up to you guys to impress me." I smirk, "Did you already get the gifts yet?"

Nathaniel nods "Well, I got the present for my person, I wasn't sure what to get you."

I perk up at the sound of presents for me "What are you deciding between?"

"If I tell you, wouldn't it ruin the surprise?" Nathaniel points out, smoothing down his blond hair.

"Sure. I guess it would, I think I'm okay with that." I say, crossing my arms in front of my chest. What a shame, though I suppose, honorable, it's still annoying to hear Nathaniel deny me. I'm not used to being denied, I guess and it feels weird to say the least.

"I like surprises, so unfortunately you're going to have to wait for this one," Nataniel tells me, causing me to pout. "Sorry about that."

I sigh dramatically, "I should have expected it. Guess I can always ask your butler."

"Please don't." Nathaniel says simply. His request is so earnest, I have a hard time saying something in response, even if I meant it as a joke. Of course I wouldn't actually ask his butler, but I feel bad. Nathaniel is a good guy, he's funny and kind, I mean, he took in another guy's kid. I shouldn't be so rude to him.

Stupid selection and my stupid guilty conscience

"Fine. I won't." I answer him simply."So, how is your um, beach clean up thing going?" I ask, just for the sake of changing the subject. I remember that he had mentioned it to me months ago, and though the idea of picking up garbage still grossed me out, it was the only thing I could think of.

"I didn't think you even remembered that. I don't really know, I haven't spoken to the people in charge for a while."

"You should give them a call," I advise, "Make sure things haven't turned to ash and ruin in your absence."

"Believe me, I'm sure everything is A-okay." Nathaniel assures me.

"If you say so. I have a hard time seeing that it's running smoothly without you and your...uhm, picking-up-garbage skills."I tease him lightly.

"Then maybe you need glasses."

"Please, Princess' don't wear glasses," I pause for a second. "At the very least I would wear contact lenses."

By the time we're standing in front of the reindeer pen, my guilt at trying to have Nathaniel reveal what he was getting me through well…less than perfect methods had more or less subsided. It wasn't that cold out, but I clutched the cup of hot cider the employees gave me gratefully. It wasn't the best hot cider in the world, but I wasn't wearing a jacket. So I would suffer with a mediocre drink. Such is the story of my life.

"I don't mean to ruin the magic," I say, looking at the horde of little kids standing to our left, "But that's just a goat with bells on it right?"

Nathaniel studied it closer, "Either a goat or a baby deer."

"I say goat. It's not like there's an abundance of deer in Angeles."

"It looks like a goat."

"Whatever, I'll ask the employee," I say, gesturing towards the woman in a red t-shirt near the entrance to the enclosure.

"No, don't." Nathaniel says, "The kids might overhear. I don't want to ruin it for them."

"Oh come on," I scoff, "Even they have to have enough brain cells to know that reindeer aren't real." I exclaim, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

"You never know."

I pause for a second, "You know what, you're right, you never know." I lay my head on his shoulder as we watch the goat/deer. The photographers will love this. The country will eat it up. If I'm going to have to fake a selection I might as well go in with both feet. Nothing to lose there.

A/N: Hello everyone and welcome to another chapter. Yeah, I don't really have anything to say because, to be quite honest, life is kinda boring right now. So yeah, we celebrated Divesh;s birthday which was lovely uwu, and a date with Nathaniel. Okay, that's uh, that's really it. See you all on Monday! Byeeeeeee!