1

Story of My Life

It was just another day, Michael thought when he was glaring towards the blue sky above Angeles. The crown prince stood in the gardens nearby the lake, glazing at the water with empty eyes. It was just another day, he reminded himself. Except that everything was different.

"Your Highness." Sam stepped by his side.
"Don't call me that, Sam."
"But it is your title, Mike."
"Details." Michael shrugged.
"Is it the news that broke through today or the old story that is making you glare here in melancholy."
"What news?" The blonde looked up to his friend.
"You did not hear yet?"
"No, of course not, so tell me."

Samuel Jones, his best friend, sighed and glazed over to the swans too. He clearly did not want to be the bearer of the news he was about to break to him. But as the crown prince's closest friend, Greene had sent him.

"The info leaked."
"That is just as helpful as saying "the news that broke today", Sam." Michael remarked annoyed.
"About the Selection, duh."
Michael glared to him, and sighed. "You are kidding me."
"No, I am not."
"Terrible enough that father agreed to the 'Bachelor ft. Illéan crown'. Now the press got the info before the official point and me? I get to deal with the journalists." He complained.
"You did agree terribly fast though."
"Greene and father were discussing making it law. That the consort has to be selected by a Selection. I had no choice."
"I googled a bit." Sam added. "Apparently Queen Eadlyn wasn't a great fan of the idea either, and she ended up happy."
"How do you end up happy if you're nothing but a celebrity because you're someone's kid?"
"Ask your dad?"
"His wife died two months ago."

Yes, Queen Charlotte passed away only two months ago. Just like so many other people. Michael had visited the flowers in front of the parliament. The photos of the innocent people who passed away in a terrible terrorist attack, they had brought tears to his eyes.

Roses – white like the innocence, the queen had symbolised. Beloved by the people, admired by the court and his mother. He had been there, almost by her side. She had seen how she, the Queen of Illéa – married to a man whose ancestors once had ruled the people in terrible ways – had thrown herself in front of the prime minister, to protect the man elected by the people to rule the country. A sacrifice without any meaning for he died too.

"Exactly. It has been two months, and you are still in mourning."
"My mother died!" Michael cried out.
"Yes, and your country is scared and afraid of these terrorists."
"What am I meant to do?" The crown prince called.
"Encourage them, like your mother did."
"They want Emmy on the throne either way – why bother?"

Silence. Yes, certainly, the people wanted to see his younger sister on the throne. Princess Emilia was so much more liked by the people of Illéa. The beautiful, intelligent, loving angel of a princess was so much more liked compared to her brother who nearly failed a school grade and preferred to hang around with his friends and discuss sport. Too bad she was in a coma since the terrorist attack at the opening of parliament. Too bad he wasn't a fairy tale prince. He wasn't the kind of dream fantasy, the people wanted to see from the monarchy.

But right now, it was more of a tragedy either way.

"So, father sent you to tell me to prepare for the reporters?" Michael switched back to the Selection.
"Greene did, actually."
"Sounds like him. Too afraid to do anything."
"He wasn't elected by the people and he stands in the steps of Stark."

John Greene was Alexander Stark's successor, the current prime minister of Illéa. People didn't like him as much as Stark – he had been beloved for saving Illéa from an economic crisis after the Germans increased the prices of their exports – exports that were necessary for Illéa. And he was Sam's uncle.

"The Germans toy with us, still." Sam remarked.
"I don't care about politics."
"If you did, people'd like you more."
"People tell me not to have political opinions."
"It is a small difference. Do not care but do care." Sam added.
"You have no idea about my life." Michael shook his head.
"Oh, I do. I do. You've been crying about it for years, Mike." Sam laughed.
"Goddamn line of succession."

Michael kneed down and gently pet his dog who was lazily lying by his feet. Samuel had a point. He had been his best friend for years, and he always listened when he complained about his life.

"Your Highness. Mr. Jones." A butler of the palace stood behind them, causing the two friends to turn around. "His Majesty requires your presence, Your Highness."

Michael nodded, dismissed the butler and briefly bid his friend good-bye. Summer holidays wouldn't last forever, and soon, he'd be back studying at university. One of the things, the prince could have had – if it wasn't for his terrible school results. He, alongside his dog, a German Sheppard named Rock, left for his father's office.

* . * . *

King Richard II was glaring at the fire in his office when Michael entered and briefly bowed. Wordless, he waved him to come closer. Richard was a good man and a good king, but nothing special, as Samuel tended to describe him. Just an avid fan of football, but otherwise? A private man, committed to his duties and family. Unfortunately, Michael wasn't a fan of competitive sports at all, and the two were certainly not very close. There were days when they didn't even talk.

"You wished to speak with me, father?"
"Yes, yes. Did Samuel tell you?"
"About the leak? Yes. How did it happen though?"
"God knows, I don't care much either." Richard waved it off. "The official press release was published this afternoon. Can't have rumours flooding around."
"Yes, father."
"I decided to discuss this in person with you, rather than have you talk to the people who are actually having more of an idea of this, because I know that you are not too happy about this."
"Surprise, surprise."
"There are thirty-five girls, Michael. One of them has to be good enough."
Michael shrugged as response.
"Tomorrow, you will hold a press conference." Richard added. "Better start preparing. Silvestre is here to discuss further things with you."
"Alright, father."
"And, Michael?"
"Hm?"
"Thirty-five girls who just want their fairy tale. You'll have fun."

Both of them shared a brief but awkward laugh. Michael knew that his father disliked Michael's love for night life. Richard knew that Michael did not want to be king and wanted no queen.

Silvestre Lorde was in charge of the press of the palace and the royal family, and a good friend of his mother. After briefing him about the nature of the leak itself and the information (pretty much everything) and further information he might need, it was question time. He only had two.
"What if they ask about mother, or Emmy?" They absolutely would.
"Don't comment anything."
"What if they ask about the Red Herring?" The terrorists who had planted a bomb and taken his mother. Among other crimes and attacks.
"Don't comment anything."
"Just another press conference, then?"
"Exactly, your highness."

The Red Herring Cast

Michael 'Mike' Schreave, Crown prince.
Emilia 'Emmy' Schreave, Michael's younger sister
Richard II Schreave, King
Charlotte Schreave, late Queen
Silvestre Lorde, Palace press secretary
Scarlet Hunter, journalist
John Greene, prime minister
Alexander Stark, previous (dead) prime minister
Samuel Jones, Mike's best friend
Dr Jason Reynolds, Rho's brother

Rihanna Lorde, Selected from Angeles
Cecilia Stark, Selected from Likely
Mayli Yi, Selected from Atlin
Isadora "Isa" Bonovich, Selected from Clermont by MoonChild129
Rhosyn "Rho" Reynolds, Selected from Honduras by Celegra123
Katherine "Kath" Rhodes, Selected from Dominica by Dr Kay Strange
Tatiana "Tate" Loveren, Selected from Paloma by tyozzie
Africa Oaks, Selected from Zuni by Tis I, The Most Frenchiest Fry
Othilia "Tilly" Joyce, Selected from Whites by Abizeau

Welcome to "The Red Herring"!

This is a SYOC The Selection fanfiction, meaning that I depend on you to send me the Selected to appear in the story. As you might guessed, this is set in the future, and Illéa has pretty much turned into how Britain is today, with a bit of American influence due to the location.

You will most likely notice one or two differences – i.e. I refer to Michael as Crown Prince Michael of Illéa rather than Prince Michael Schreave because that is more correct – royals don't tend to use surnames at all. I was going to use HRH (His/Her Royal Highness) instead of HH (His/Her Highness), but because HH is shorter to type and canon, I am going to go with this – even though it's 'lesser' than HRH.

Illéa is a constitutional monarchy in which the King doesn't hold any real power. The technological and social standards are comparable to today's society, but that doesn't mean that the caste system hasn't left traces. Even though we might deny it, we still do have classes in today's society, and so does this fanfiction. I hope to receive characters from all kinds of classes.

The story's plot has been planned in the basics, but it will depend a lot on your characters. I plan to focus onto them and give each 'major character' a plot arc, but there's no way I can develop up to 35 characters + characters from my side. I do not guarantee you that I'll take your character or that they will become a major character.

Please give your best when filling the form!

By sending me a character, you allow me to use and change it in any way I want.

I am asking you to send an original character that has not been send to any other story to avoid 'copyright' (as much as that can happen in fanfictions) conflicts.

Please erase the brackets.

Information on already existing characters and provinces can be found via the link on my profile. The required information is there too. :)