CHAPTER 26

Princess Carolynn Schreave

Tuesday the 31st of December

I push the sleeves of my sweater back, standing distanced from both of my parents as we wait for the King of England to arrive at the palace. I know that sounds absurd. In fact, I had barely believed my parents when they had told me as much. That by some miracle - or some curse, more aptly- England had yielded and that the King was visiting on official business. Because for some reason, he's stuck in another era where emails aren't good enough for him. Don't even get me started on that.

Henri's waiting in the foyer too. Of course he is - It's his cousin coming over, though he doesn't look very happy either. Relieved, yes, but not happy. His arm is in a sling, apparently Bas was correct. He sprained his shoulder, and I wasn't a doctor, certified or not, but it seemed pretty bad. The guards had done a number on his face as well, his bruises standing out starkly against his skin. I believe that the cover story was that he got hit in the face with a baseball and got a concussion. It was so stupid that everyone had actually bought it, but is there really anyone that smart in my selected? Other than me of course.

"I'm tired," I announce, walking over to my parents.

"Yes, you can go back to sleep after this." Mom says distractedly, looking over something on her phone.

"I know. Why did this whole thing have to be so early anyway?"

"Edmund wanted to be home in time to do a New Year's day address to his country. If you had actually read the emails, you would have known that."

I frown, "Excuse me for not doing work during the holidays. Isn't that the point of vacation time?"

"Hm. That's a very jaded view darling," Mom finally says, shaking her head. "You can't seriously expect to not have to even check your email during breaks."

"I don't know. I guess I don't." I answer slightly miffed. It wasn't my job to do this yet, it was Mom's. I had a few more years left of this somewhat freedom, and I might as well enjoy it. I'm excited to be Queen, sure, but for now, I might as well come along with the perks of my lesser position.

"Good."

That's all Mom says to me, and Dad seems to be equally quiet today. I'll admit, I'm an impatient person, but it seems as if the clock is purposefully going slower. It's not that far of a drive from the airport to the palace, and it's getting painful to wait here. I still have an insanely long list of things to do today. I need to get my hair done, my nails, my make up, and so many other things for the ball. There's no way that Edmund doesn't know this. I get the feeling that this is is small way of payback from a situation that he clearly lost any resemblance of control over.

Fabulous, really.

It's something that I would do, to be quite honest. I can admire him for it, respect him somewhat, but that doesn't even begin to overshadow my annoyance.

Finally, finally, a guard comes over and whispers something to Mom.

"He's here," she tells me.

Edmund comes through the doors, not even a minute later, looking positively disgruntled. He resembles Henri, in the way that distant family members do. The same pale skin color and square jaw. His hair is several shades darker then Henri's, but still close enough. I've met the man on occasion, state visits and the like, more so when I was younger. He always struck me as nice enough, there was nothing distinctive about his personality, nothing that would make me think that I would be in this situation -or that eventually I would be in-laws with him.

"Farrah, Max," he says, in an obvious show of fake politeness, "How are you?"

"Good, thank you," answer Mom, her tone similar. "Was your flight alright?"

"It was fine," he says, nodding slightly, his face tense "Nothing out of the ordinary."

"Lovely, would you like something to drink?" Mom asks, her expression similar.

"No, I'm perfectly fine. I would prefer to get this over with as soon as possible." Edmund says to my mother. His eyes barely skim over me before turning to Henri. Mom beckons her assistant over, while Edmund turns to his far younger cousin, who had seemed like he didn't want to get involved for the most part. "Call your parents," he mutters to Henri, "They've been worried sick about you. Your mother will be relieved to hear your voice."

Henri nods, dutifully taking the phone from his cousin. "I will."

Edmund nods looking back to Mom, who had procured the documents. "Here you are," she says, a fake smile on her face.

Edmund looks through the papers briefly - I'd assume he had read over the version faxed to him earlier in the week. "Everything seems to be in order."

"Yes."

Thank God for that. "All's well that ends well," I quip, earning me a head shake from Mom, a small smile from Dad, a disdainful glance from Edmund, and Henri just turns away.

Huh. He, out of anyone, should be happy about this.

"Are you excited?" I ask, making my voice low enough that my parents and Edumnd wouldn't hear. Henri was standing far enough away from them that it was entirely doable, just annoying.

"Excited?" He repeats, looking confused. "I'm sorry…?"

"I thought you would be happier. I mean, aren't you getting your phone back? And your laptop? That's a good thing right."

"Yeah. I guess it is."

This is getting weird. "Well," I ask, changing the subject abruptly, "I'm wearing a silver dress tonight, so you should get me matching flowers." I offer.

"What?"

"Oh, yes," Mom says, obviously overhearing, "If you would like, we would be happy for you to stay for the ball tonight. I'm sure that doing two back-to-back plane rides would be exhausting. It could... be a celebration for the ages."

Edmund shakes his head simply, "That's fine. I think we would both prefer to be home as soon as possible. Right, Henri?"

Henri looks like he doesn't know what to say. He looks back to his cousin, then to me, and back again, "Yeah," he finally says agreeing.

Wait, that didn't sound good.

"What do you mean, going home?" I ask, heat rushing to my face. I can anticipate the answer. "You're not going home. I didn't eliminate you."

Henri looks at me, seeming equally as surprised, "They didn't tell you?"

'Tell me what?" I hiss.

"Oh. My family...they want me to leave the selection." Henri says, fiddling with his thumb. He doesn't meet my eye.

"So don't? Just say no!" I whisper-yell, finding it much much harder to keep my voice down now. Still, I try. I don't need my parents and the King of England to hear me acting so confused, like I have no clue what's going on in my own life.

"It's not that simple Car," he says, frowning, but not looking nearly as upset as I would have liked him to be, considering he's on the verge of ruining my life.

"How is it not simple? It's ridiculously simple. Just tell them that you want to stay here and your cousin can go back home with the knowledge that you're safe and sound."

"I… I don't know…" Henri hedges out but I don't let him finish.

"Besides, you live quite literally ten minutes away from me, maybe more with traffic, but whatever. You can visit home whenever you like. It's not that hard."

"No, I meant home-home." Henri says glancing down.

"I'm not following," I say bluntly.

"They want me to come back to England. The rest of my family already moved back there, in our old house. I think we've burnt most of our bridges with Illéa." Henri explains hesitantly.

He's got to be joking. Why in the world would he want to move back there after five years of living in Angeles. Sunshiny, warm Angeles where the lowest the temperature ever gets requires nothing more than a lightweight sweatshirt.

"That's funny. Really, it is. But can you just stop joking. I'm getting tired of it. Just tell them that you want to stay." I finish my piece, looking up at him.

Henri doesn't answer me at first, biting his lip, and then looking back to me. Every second he doesn't answer makes my heart drop. I stare him down, forcing him to answer. He's not getting out of this one so easily, injured shoulder be damned.

"Well-" he finally says slowly. I cut him off, not letting him finish his sentence. I know what he's going to say anyway.

"Unless,...unless….You don't want to stay, do you?" I say, the realization feeling like a bucket of ice water to the face.

"It's not that I don't want…"

"Why? What? Am I not enough for you? Do you seriously think you can get someone better than me? Spoiler alert: you can't." I continue.

"It's not that Car-"

"Carolynn," I correct.

"Carolynn," he says, the word seeking forieg coming out of his mouth. "I just can't stay here anymore. I miss my family, and," Henri doesn't finish his sentence, instead gesturing to his injured shoulder with his other arm. "I'm sorry."

"So you're breaking up with me over something that's not my fault? How is that fair? How?" I ask, demanding an answer from him.

"I'm not. I don't know. I just feel that we're not working. You deserve someone better, Car...Carolynn. Really. There are thirteen other guys here who would be more than happy to be with you for the rest of your lives. I wouldn't be, really." Henri says, and from his tone I can tell it was something that he's been wanting to say to me for a while.

It doesn't help in the slightest.

"You're an idiot. I love you, why can't you see that?"

"Then why did you kiss Tex?" Henri asks.

I swallow loudly, not looking at him. He can probably see the blood visibly draining from my face. I didn't think he was ever going to find out about that. I didn't mean it. And look where that got me.

I consider lying for a second. It would be easier. To say that I didn't, and whoever Henri had heard it from was either delusional, dead wrong, or just trying to make him upset. I can't do that though. Not right now, when I'm seconds away from my life descending into shambles. Now's not the time for a creative lie.

"Who did you hear that from?" I ask softly.

Henri looks like he doesn't want to answer. "That's not important. Carolynn, it's just that-"

"Who did you hear it from?" I repeat, my voice firmer this time. If it was my uncle I was going to kill him, or at least complain to Mom.

"I don't want to name names. Just forget I said anything."

"No. Don't you think I deserve to know who you found that out from? Don't you? Don't you think you owe it to me, since you're leaving me."

"I…" Henri shakes his head, "Tex. He told us a while ago. After his birthday dinner. I think he was pretty proud about it."

I purse my lips, trying to control the anger that I felt. Who did Tex think he was, to go and tell the rest of the selected that I had kissed him? Forget the fact that he would ruin my relationship, since he didn't know about that, I'll allow him that, but he could have used some discretion. He didn't need to go and brag about my personal life to the other selected. If I wanted to tell the other selected, I would have, but he had no right to go and take that away from me.

Still, Henri had lnew for nearly a month now. He had known, and he decided not to say anything. He went about life like it was fine, completely disregarding what I had done. I don't know whether or not to be grateful about that.

"Why didn't you say anything?" I ask.

Henri sighs, "I don't know, I figured that if you wanted me to know, it's up to you. Besides, I wasn't that upset about it," I don't know if I should be offended about that, "That sounds really bad looking back, but I just wasn't. I think I was almost hoping you would choose someone else instead of me," he finally admits.

I look up at that, definitely offended about that one. So, for almost a month, he had wanted me to eliminate him. A month. I had no idea about that. I just thought he was upset about something not at me. What had I ever done to deserve this?

"But why? Why don't you want to be with me?"

"It's not a reason. I just...it's not working." I can tell he's lying. He's always been horrible at it. He has a reason why he wants to break up with me, and he's refusing to tell me, to protect my feelings or something equally as absurd.

"For you. It's not working for you. I was...I am happy. And you just tell me this like I should have known all along. Well I didn't. So, can you please get out of my house?"

'I'm sorry," he says again, walking away from me to go tell his cousin that he's ready to go.

I want to tell him to wait, I do, but something stops me. My own stubborn pride.

I watch as Mom hands him a small bag, probably containing his laptop and phone, plus whatever else she had confiscated from him. It's horrible, terrible really. As I watch this scene play out before me, I actually understand, for the first time I can tell why he wanted to break up with me. It doesn't make it hurt any less, if anything it hurts more. I did this. Well, maybe not me technically, but my family.

"A shame, isn't it?" Edmund asks, making me jump.

"What is?"

"The whole issue. I had no idea it would escalate to such a level." The foriegn king continues, standing next to me.

"Me either."

He clears his throat, "I always find it unnecessary when things turn to a physical level. Usually I try to avoid it. I thought other countries would share my viewpoint."

"Yeah."

"However, when something like this happens, you can't simply let it slide? When it's your family in question. Don't you agree?"

I finally look him in the eye, "I'm not following."

"Let me make myself quite clear then, little girl, you don't hurt someone and get away with it. You have made yourselves some very powerful enemies. I would hate for it to get any worse, but then again, it's only necessary. Isn't that right?"

Fine. he wants to intimidate me. Try to scare me. He can go ahead. "Well, when someone goes low, you need to go lower. I'm sure you understand."

The King simply smiles, "Believe me, little girl, I do. The question is do you.

I don't have the time or energy to deal with this today. I don't bother to look up as the King and Henri leave. I don't have enough energy left in me to do anything but one thing.

A few of the selected are at breakfast. They had to get up early today to prepare for the ball, but clearly that meant different things to different people. It makes me less worried that someone might have overheard the exchange with Henri, but there were guards posted to make sure that nio one got within earshot. As long as none of my selected suddenly have superhuman hearing, I should be in the clear. Mom and Dad sit down, looking at expectantly.

Instead, I stride over to Tex, who luckily decided to be early today, "Get up." I say to him, loud enough for the room to hear. I know I have their attention. Tex has the foresight to look worried. It pleases me somewhat, the scared look on his face. At least something is in my control today.

"Who did he tell?" I ask the room, my voice filled with barely concealed rage.

I'm met with dead silence, no one wanting to be the first to comment. They all know what I'm referring to though. I can see it in their eyes. They might not want to answer me, but playing dumb isn't going to work with me right now. No, I'm going to get my answers out of them one way or another.

"Princess-" Tex starts.

"Oh shut up." I tell him. "Don't make me ask again, who did he tell? How many of you did he tell that we.." I swallow out of repulse and embarrassment for my past actions," that we kissed."

Again no one answers, the look on their faces terrified. None of them want to speak to me right now. Probably out of a need for self-preservation. It's funny that they think they have a choice. I'm not leaving here till I get my answers out of them. Henri might have been reluctant to tell me, but at least one of them will crack under pressure and give me the information that I want. The only question is who.

"Fine," I say, scanning the room. The obvious choice is to go for Divesh, the weak link of the group. I pull Tex along by his shoulder, walking over to where Divesh is sitting, looking like he'd rather be any place else in the world.

"Divesh," I say, drawing out his name, "so. Who did he tell?"

"I don't…."

"I know it sounds like I'm asking, but I'm really not."

"Right. Princess...I…"

"Do you really want to test me right now Divesh?" He held up longer than I expected him to, and frankly that was irritating me.

Divesh shakes his head slightly, seeming to come to a realization. Just like I knew he would. "All of us," he says quietly, looking embarrassed.

"When?"

"I...I don't remember the date," Divesh says, the blood rushing to his face out of embarrassment.

"Then what do you remember?"

"After one of our, um, our lessons," Divesh stammers out. "We were all in the men's room. I'm sorry, Your Highness, I didn't-"

"Don't worry about it. I'm not mad at you." I turn to Tex, to which mad doesn't even begin to explain the extent of my feelings.

"Get out!" I say to him, "I want you gone." Tex doesn't move for a second, seeming in shock at his sudden dismissal. "Hello? Are you dumb? The door is that way." I wait, not moving till Tex leaves. Once he does, I put on a strained smile, the best I can muster. "Let this be a lesson to you all, gentleman. Try not get me upset." With that, I pat Divesh on the shoulder, walking up to the head table.

"Carrie, are you okay?" Dad asks, his voice low.

"Send dinner to my room," I say back, my voice equally as quiet. "I'm not going to your stupid ball."

I spend the rest of the afternoon crying in my bed. Sure enough, both lunch and dinner are sent to my room. Dad stops by twice, Mom once, to try and get me to come to the ball. Both times I push the pillow over my head and refuse to move until they leave. I don't want to even look at either of them after this morning. Around eight in the evening, I can hear the faint strains of music coming from the ballroom. I had imagined myself there, to be honest. In my gown, having a fun time.

I couldn't go tonight.

I'm not sure what the selected think. That I'm sick, or that I'm mad at them. Whatever it is, I can't be bothered. I'm sure Mom will come up with something, and after the show this morning that they'll know well enough to leave me alone.

I guess I must have fallen asleep at some point, because I wake up to someone knocking on my door loudly. I'm still in my outfit from yesterday, though it had gotten extremely wrinkled from the hours it spent lying on my bed.

"What?" I call out loudly, not bothering to move from my bed.

"Are you awake?" Comes Mom's voice, as if it would be anyone else.

"No."

Mom comes in anyway, Garnet trailing behind her. "Are you okay?" she asks. "I know you missed the party last night, I'm so sorry."

"Yeah. Sure you are." I say, considering putting the pillow back over my head. I don't want to talk to her, hear her fake apologies.

"Carrie, please," Mom says. "You know what today is?"

"Of course I do. January first. New Years day."

"Yes, and I have a lovely day planned for us. We're going to go to the spa and you can tell me all about what's bothering you." Mom clasps her hands together, smiling in a way that I don't like. But, I do like the spa, so whatever.

"Okay." I agree, sitting up, "But what's he doing here?" I jerk my thumb towards Garnet, hoping that this doesn't mean that he's coming with us.

"Garnet wanted to talk to you, right?" Mom asks, giving him a look.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I did." Garnet stammers, obviously being taken by surprise.

"Come to the foyer after you're done, okay Carrie?" Mom asks. I nod my agreement. "Garnet, one of the chauffeurs can take you back to your house after."

"Great."

Once Mom's out the door, I turn to Garet. "Okay, so what did you want to say? Hmm?"

"Um," Garnet looks down for a second, "I wanted to say that I feel really bad for you, and that you…" he looks down at his hand again, making me narrow my eyes. "You have a lot of other opinions...wait that's not right...options, and that I think...you're...enthu...no...ecstatic." Garnet says woodenly, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.

"Come here," I say. He obeys. "Give me your hand."

At that Garnet hesitates, "Why?"

"Because I said so."

"I don't want to."

He's really going to make this hard for himself isn't he?" "Garnet, give me your hand or I'm telling your Mom that you cheated on your last chemistry test," I say, pulling the trump card.

"How do you know about that?" he yelps.

I smirk, "I didn't. I do now though. So hand. Now. Please."

Garnet mutters something under his breath, showing his hand to me. Sure enough, written in a messy black marker is the exact speech that Garnet had just given me. Heaven forbid that boy ever have a creative thought in his head. It's hard to read, and that explains the stuttering and pauses for Garnet. You'd think that he would at least be able to read his own handwriting.

"Hm. Well then, nice to know you care."

"I do care!" Garnet insists.

"Do you?"

"Yeah! And,' Garnet huffs a breath, "Your mom's paying me twenty dollars to do this."

Of course she is. "Word of advice," I tell him, "Ask for at least forty. You can go now."

"No, Car, really. I'm not just doing it for the money. I feel bad for you." Garnet continues, raising his eyebrows.

"Do you? Do you even know what it feels like to be rejected?" I ask, assuming that the answer is no. Garnet's fourteen, not to mention a prince. I don't know if he ever asked a girl out - I've never thought to ask, but there's no way anyone in their right mind would reject him.

"I do!"

"I have a hard time believing that.:"

Garnet looks down for a second, fishing for something in his pocket. He finally pulls out his phone, surprising that he actually has it considering how much he gets grounded, and opens up his messages app. "Look at this! It's horrible."

I take the phone from his skeptically, wrinkling my nose at the cracked screen. You think he would actually get it fixed. The page he's showing me is from a few days ago, with him and some girl

Garnet: hey [12:43]

Tessie: Hi [1:11]

Garnet: what r u doing on nye [1:11]

Tessie: nye? [1:19]

Garnet: new years eve [1:20]

Tessie: Oh I didn't know that [1:28]

Tessie: Um, I'm not sure, probably going to Melanie's party [1:28]

Tessie: How about you [1:29]

Garnet: the palace is having a ball its rlly fun [1:29]

Garnet: do u want to come [1:29]

Tessie: Oh [1:43]

Tessie: Like a date? [1:43]

Garnet: yuh ig [1:44]

Tessie: Oh [2:08]

Tessie: Ummmm [2:08]

Tessie: I have a boyfriend [2:08]

Tessie: Sorry [2:09]

Garnet: yeah no its fine have fun [2:09]

I look up at him, "that's one of the saddest things I've ever read," I tell him bluntly, "and you do know what an apostrophe is right?"

Garnet flushed a dark red, "Of course I do."

"Good. Never know what those schools are teaching you."

"I go to private school," Garnet says almost defensively. "Besides it's not like everyone needs to have a private tutor." I have to refrain from rolling my eyes at that one. Everyone knows that you get better education through that, and I knew for a fact that Garnet's mother had specifically been against him being homeschooled. Look how well that turned out: Garet still had to get tutoring for every subject he was doing poorly in (and that was quite a few). It really defeats the purpose if you took the time to think about it, not that I think Garnet ever did, Thinking really isn't his forte.

"Okay, you think that you'd know how to spell yeah. By the way, there's no u in it."

"It's a abbr...abbre..it's like when you shorten a word."

"It's idiotic," I answer swiftly. "And the word is abbreviation."

"Yeah. Whatever Carrie. I was trying to be nice." Garnet finally says, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"You're being paid to stand here and try to make me feel better. I really don't think that counts as trying."

Garnet looks down, "You really think your mom gave me money to show you messages of how I got rejected? She just told me to say I feel bad for you. I thought you could maybe help." Garnet gets out, his face getting even redder if that's even possible.

I press my lips together, sighing. "Fine. What do you want help with?"

Garnet perks up, taking that as an invitation to climb onto my bed, sitting next to me. "How do I get Tessie to break up with her boyfriend?" He asks, hoping I would know that answer.

I have to stifle a laugh at that. "Garnet, I hate to break it to you, but she's clearly not interested. It takes her twenty minutes to respond to you."

"She could have bad wifi," Garnet supplies defensively.

Oh this poor boy. "No, just no."

Garet frowns, his face crumpling. "Then what do I do?"

"Deal with it. Is there another girl you like?" Garet shrugs in answer, very unhelpfully. "Alright. Just pretend it didn't happen and leave it be."

"Yeah. I guess I'll do that." Garnet agrees looking sad. "Oh, you're mom wanted me to give you this," he says, procuring a small bag of chocolates from his sweatshirt pocket.

I grab it with the tips of my fingers, wrinkling my nose as I look at it. "It's open. And half the chocolates are missing."

Garnet shrugs, "It's a long walk from the foyer up top your room. I got hungry."

I shake my head, not wanting to deal with him anymore. "Fine. You can go now, tell my mom that I'll be down in a few minutes. Oh! And don't forget to ask for an extra twenty dollars. I don't think she'll care." I instruct him.

Garnet nods, giving me a half-hearted wave. "Feel better I guess."

"Thanks...I guess."

It feels nice to change out of my dress and into something more comfortable. Instead of flimsy floral fabric, I put on a white sweater and dark jeans. I would have preferred to be in sweatpants and a sweatshirt, with my hair in a messy bun, but I can't do that. I might be miserable, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm the princess of Illéa and I need to keep up appearances.

Stupid, stupid apperances.

Mom's waiting for me in the foyer, dressed similarly and next to her is...Nishav Levesque.

What is he doing here?

I know that he happens to be Mom's favorite but that doesn't change the fact that Henri broke up with me yesterday, and I don't have the patience to be with another one of my selected today. He's cynical, and rude, and judgmental, and not Henri. None of the guys left are him.

"Hi," I greet, the smile on my face dying down as I looked at Mom, the traitor. I should have known something was up when she said that she was taking the entire day off. I can't remember the last time that happened.

"Carrie, perfect," Mom says, "If you're both ready to go we can leave."

"Sure."

"Yes, thank you Your Majesty," Nishav responds. "It's nice of you to do this for my birthday."

Oh. This is his birthday? I didn't know that. I really hope Mom got him a present for me, or that would be very awkward come tomorrow. Maybe I can pass off the spa day as the gift. I doubt Nishav will buy it, but it's worth a chance.

"Of course," Mom says, leading us both into the limousine waiting in the wide driveway in front of the palace. I end up sitting next to Nishav, by some combination of unfortunate luck and Mom's own motions. I'm sure now that Henri's gone she wants me to marry Nishav. Why does she have to like classical music and not, I don't know, something like circus performances.

"You know, Nishav, I saw one of your performances years ago," Mom starts, placing her constantly beeping phone in her purse.

"Oh, well, I hope you enjoyed it."

"Yes, you're very talented at the violin. It was rather...inspiring."

Nihav doesn't look like he knows how to take the compliment, he ducks his head in response. "Thank you."

"I always tried to get Carrie to play an instrument, she never quite had the passion for it."

"Mom," I hiss, "Don't bring that up." Music lessons were one of the few things that I had failed at. I never could get my fingers to move fast enough to play the piano, and after several fits, my parents finally let me quit. Years in the past, yes, but I don't need Mom bridging this up to Nishav, who now I need to seriously consider as a possibility for me to marry, thanks to her.

I hate this stupid selected. I couldn't just call it off now, when we're so far in already. Not unless tragedy strikes, but I don't think I'm going to be moving on to murder just yet. I just have to suck it up and marry one of my remaining selected. One of these people, who I barely know, and don't even like all that much.

Fine, maybe I don't mind some of them. Maybe some of their company makes me smile, and their jokes actually make me laugh, but that doesn't mean I want to spend the rest of my life with one of them.

"Which instrument do you play?" Nihav asks, looking mildly interested.

I roll my eyes. "None. I can't even read sheet music. She's just over exaggerating."

"Hm. I'm sure you could learn. It's not terribly hard." Nishav supplies.

"What, you want to teach me?" I ask, teasing him. Of course he's trying to get another date with me. What else could I have expected.

Or maybe not. I must have said the wrong thing, because Nishav looks down, pressing his lips together. "No. I don't play anymore."

"Yes, sociology, isn't it?" Mom asks, making me realize that she had been listening.

"That's correct Your Majesty."

"A very interesting field. A very big change from music too. What made you decide to switch?"

Nishav shrugs simply, "I don't really want to get into it."

"Of course."

Mom and Nihav continue talking as I stare out the window, contemplating how my life had become such a mess in the last few hours. I didn't see a path out of this situation, I guess I could ask Mom, but I don't want her help. This was all her fault anyway. Dad would tell Mom what I said meaning he wasn't an option either. I was all on my own. All on my own to find someone to marry and have my not so happily ever after with.

I perk up slightly when we get to the spa. It's a large building, the outside covered in stone and dark wood. The parking lot is mildly crowded, as it always is, and surprisingly, there's more than a few other limousines sitting in the parking lot. The inside is similar, heated stone tile, dim lighting, massive amounts of greenery with fountains running from the ceiling to floor. The receptionist desk had several pitchers filled with different types of flavored water.

I go to pour myself some when Mom checks us in. The picture is heavier than I expected and Nishav, after watching me struggle for a few moments, takes it from my hands.

"Here you go," he says, placing the pineapple water in my hand. His hand is warm, and I get goosebumps where his thumb touches my palm.

"Thanks."

I tune back into Mom's conversation, in time to hear her say the words: Couple massage. Of course. I should have expected as much when she made Nishav come on this date, in her ridiculous attempt to set us up.

One of the employees at the spa instructs me to a changing room to put on a plush white robe. I leave the clothes I had been wearing with the attendant, taking a pair of slippers from the basket as well. Nishav is already in the room that we'll be using today. I guess he must have changed quicker than me, going as he wasn't having an existential crisis.

"Happy birthday," I said to him as a greeting.

"Thank you." We sit in silence for a few minutes, the only sound coming from the water fixture in the back of the room and the soft music playing in the hallway. "I don't mean to pry," Nishav starts, "But are you okay? You seemed upset yesterday."

"I'm okay. Yeah, I'm fine." I answer more to myself than Nishav. Maybe if I repeat it enough I'll actually start to believe it.

Either way, it doesn't seem to convince Nishav, who still has a somewhat concerned look on his face. "Are you sure?"

"Actually, Nishav, if you really want to know, I'm not okay. I'm miserable. I expected things to not go this way. I wanted something else to happen. It just...nothing worked out. My life is falling to pieces and this is what I'm stuck with." I finally say, the words pouring out of my mouth before I can stop them. I didn't mean to do this, to confide all of my woes to Nishav, but once I start I can't stop. Hot tears run down my face, smudging the macara I had put on.

Nishav doesn't look like he quite knows what to do, "Do you want to talk about it?"

I shake my head, tears still coming, "I can't." I bury my head in Nishav's chest, as without heels I'm far too short for my face to reach his shoulder. Nishav looks taken by surprise at the sudden contact, and pats my back awkwardly for a few seconds.

"I have to ask," Nishav finally says, still patting my back, "Does this have anything to do with Henri leaving? I gathered it was a messy break up."

I pull away from him -there's mascara clumped on his robe- "How do you know about that?"

Nishav shrugs, "You were being rather loud, and I have fairly good hearing. Years of music lessons."

"Does...does everyone else know?" I ask, my voice uncharacteristically soft.

"I was the only one awake to hear," Nishav says, probably in an attempt to comfort me.

It doesn't work. I break out into tears again, sniffling loudly. "I guess you hate me now. You all probably hate me. I deserve it anyway. I've been a horrible person. Really, I have been. I've been rude, and...and diminishing, and I've made all of you feel bad about yourselves at least twice."

"I don't hate you." Nishav says quietly. "Really, I don't."

"Is that supposed to be reassuring?" I ask, looking him in the eye, even if I have to tilt my head at an uncomfortable angle to do so.

Nishav ignores me. "You're not a horrible person," he continues. "I'm not going to deny that you've been rude, because well, I don't think this is the time to lie to you, but no one here hates you."

"You should," I mutter, knowing the words are true as they leave my mouth. "You all should hate me."

Nishav chuckles a little at this, "We don't. You're a good person, you just don't show it sometimes, Your Highness."

"Carrie," I say, wiping away a tear, futile since they keep coming, "If you're seeing me cry right now, you should call me by my first name."

Nishav nods, not saying much else. Just letting me cry. Eventually, he pulls me back into a hug, seeming much more comfortable with the contact now that he was the one who initiated it .He feels nice, and the way his fingers make rhythmic circles against my shoulder blade is calming. We stay this way -my sniffles gradually dying down- until two spa attendants come into the room.

"I'm sorry, Your Highness, Mr. Levesque," the shorter one pipes up, "I didn't realize we were interrupting something."

"No. No, it's fine." I say, forcing my face into a smile. It comes out more as a grimace. "We're ready."

The massage is nice. It is, but I can't let myself focus only on the calming effect. Maybe Nishav was right. Maybe the selected don't hate. If I'm going to marry one of them, I have to make sure it stays that way. I need to be a better person, nicer to the boys, try to be more interested in their life stories now that I might actually have to marry one of them.

"You're right," I tell him once we're finished. "You're right."

A/N: What's this with a weekly update? So, I started Nano and it was a pretty rocky start not gonna lie, but it's going a lot smoother now so I'm hoping to get out a few more chapters this month. Anyway a lot happened in this chapter. We say goodbye to Tex, who to be compelled honey, was a jerk, but he's the type of jerk that you enjoy writing. Yeah, that's all I have to say this time around. See you next time (if there is one lol)