Everything happened to be so fast, I couldn't catch my breath. The days seemed to be flying by and yet it felt I could live every second as a minute. Everything was passing in a dizzying speed, in both slow and fast motion active simultaneously.

I don't know how, but the news got leaked out that I was helping Kriss. I had no doubt it was Celeste, but I couldn't do anything about that. How could I, when I had already helped one Elite?

I didn't want to be partial. At least not when I could help.

I'd told Kriss the truth. I had six Elites and I looked upon them with equally. If I'd helped Kriss, I couldn't back away from helping another.

As it turned out, Celeste opted to take the opportunity. She'd been waiting for me by the Grand hall, though discreetly as she was talking with Silvia, but upon seeing me she gave me a big, sexy smile and finished her conversation with her. Once she was near to me, she said, "I was wondering if you could help me with my project a little bit."

Although I answered "Sure," I remained skeptical. I had a good idea about what she needed help for. "How can I help you?"

Once in her room—which was more of a beautiful mess than anything, with magazines covering every part of her chaise, her photos framed all over her room, the big mirror at the side of her bed covered with many family photos and makeup and whatnots, her bed messed around with so many things lying on her bed—she giggled slightly seeing her room messed up like this. "Sorry, I was busy with my photoshoot this morning and my maids are busy preparing the best dress for the presentation. Let's sit by the desk?" Which was the only mess-free around.

I took the seat on the chair while she walked around her room as she gave me a short gist of her project. It was on how we could decrease the number of rebels by controlling the actions of lower castes by providing then enough incentive to not choose the life of a rebel. It was intriguing in a unique way, but as many plans had, it had many loopholes.

I told her the same. She thought over it, chewing on her lower lip. "So, you mean it could still work?"

If I've learnt anything with my previous project, it was that no matter how perfect or good the plan was, there were always loopholes. If it worked correctly, the way you expected it to be, people could still manipulate the entire outlet to their favour. No matter what the girls did for their project, they will always remain inadequate. So why it mattered if I told her to drop it. She is a Two. No matter what she tried, she'll never comprehend the hardship America or any other like her went through. And no matter how better America could pull it off, she would never fit in the life of Two where everything was excess and extreme.

What mattered was what they thought as the reason. As far as I could tell, Celeste had done some good work. Sure it had flaws, but if her project was to be taken into consideration, a subproject could be organised to help the parent-project.

Answering Celeste's question, I gave her a few pointers where she could work, a few points which were useless and a few where more work could be done. She listened properly, asking me questions. It was good to see she was actually trying to work on this, but I knew better. She didn't see anything that had to change so wasn't scratching the whole iceberg, just it's tip.

To make her see that, I asked her many questions so that she could prepare herself. Her answers were quirky and fast, witty .She was using her charm to lure anyone in accepting her project. Even I could feel it. With the lavender satin she wore, neckline deep but still decent, sleeves covering her elbows but showing off her collarbone perfectly, her hairdo impossibly perfect with no hair out, she was a doll. An interesting, witty, manipulative doll whom no one can ignore. And she was a girl who would use anything from her arsenal to have it.

Once done, she grinned in victory. "I still can't believe I am this"—she pinched her fingers almost together—"close to actually finish this project."

"Glad to know."

She put her hands on my shoulder from behind, the hair that were set lose on her shoulder tickling my temples. "So, now that I'm almost free, can we go for a date or something? I am getting bored."

Date with her was a bad idea. "I guess."

"Should we go now?"

"Um, Celeste, about that—"

She read my hesitation, and I could hear the smile in her voice as her fingers traced the side of my neck. "Are you nervous?"

"No."

"Oh, you totally are."

I could feel my ears getting all red as embarrassment took me over. What happened between us wasn't something I could just ask my brain to erase. Sure it was consented, but I still felt guilty of using her, even if she didn't feel that.

Turning my head sideways, I glanced at her. She was smirking. "I...what happened that day..."

"Shh." She put her finger on my lips as she murmured the syllable. "Don't fret over it, Maxon. It was nothing."

"Was nothing?" I was beyond incredulous. Was I that bad?

She laughed as if reading my mind and bent down. I knew what was going to happen, still I couldn't bring to pull myself. Her eyes fixed on mine, Celeste moved further and our lips touched. Moved. The kiss deepened. Her hand moved to my hair. Soon, I don't know how, still hazed, I found Celeste sitting on my lap, my hands on her waist keeping her stable.

Soon my mind started working and I knew what would happen if I let it go anymore.

Gently pushing her away at an arm's length, I rectified my mistake I'd done three days ago. "I'm sorry, Celeste, to give you any inappropriate ideas."

"They weren't completely inappropriate." She suggested with a husky voice, a coy smile playing on her lips, her fingers digging in my skull to emphasize her point.

I stopped myself from groaning—with frustration, of course. "Celeste," I moved her away as I said her name, standing myself. "I know I'm letting you down, but trust me, you don't want to do this just like I don't."

"Oh, but I don't mind doing it." She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around my neck, her mouth so close to mine. "You know, considering that we both are attracted to each other," a kiss on my lips, "like each other," another one, "compatible," followed by another, "and so good together." A big kiss was given to me as reward.

Uh! Why can't she understand? Is her virtue nothing in front of the competition?

"I like you, Celeste." I groaned, trying to shift. "I really do. You are everything I want to be," she gave me another smile though I could see some emotion in her eyes—admiration, perhaps—"but I can't do this to you. No." I shook my head.

"Why?" she mumbled, stepping more closer.

"I respect you, Celeste. You are brave, sophisticated, composed. You are the type of girl the king would've wanted as a daughter." This had always been the truth I've never wanted to accept. That I wasn't enough for my father. That I will never be enough. There was a reason why he was always fixated on Celeste. "You're everything that I'm not, and even more. But to take advantage of you, like that, I couldn't do it."

Her eyes were all welled up. Something I had never thought of seeing in Celeste. "Maxon,—"

"No. Please don't cry!" I urged. I couldn't handle another crying girl, especially if it was Celeste.

She chuckled. "Well, I wasn't going to cry." She said, no doubt blinking this fast to swallow all her tears back before they come out.

"Thank God for that!"

She laughed and kissed me on my cheek. "So, are we going for a date or not?"

Just like that, the awkward moment was over.

If it had been Elise or Natalie, they would've talked about their emotions. If it was Kriss, she would've swallowed her tears back and denied, like she always did but that night when she thought I had given up on her. If it had been America, she would've fought back, tried to deflect the situation, and do something unpredictable just because she felt like it. But not with Celeste. For now, gone was the girl who was trying to lure me in to get the upper hand, and instead of her was standing a confident girl who refused to talk about anything but present, and definitely not her emotions.

A proper mirror image of mine. The things I was and the things I wanted to be.

I wasn't lying when I said she would've been the perfect daughter to Father. Calculative. Stubborn. Unrelenting. The perfect, deadly combination that made her formidable.

I smiled and gave her my hand. "How does a movie sound?"

"Movie, you suggest." Her eyebrows wiggled suggestively.

I chuckled and dragged her go the basement. "Sure, there should always be some fun."

She laughed as well, knowing what I meant by fun.

Though I wasn't sure why, I felt I saw some unrecognisable emotion on her face. So fast, as if it wasn't there in the first place, she wiped it clean with a smile and came with me. I don't know why, but it felt like guilt and determination.

.

.

.

Soon Elise found a way to ask me for help. When we were on our way to her room back from the library, she asked, "What do you think about the relations between New Asia and Illéa?" when I'd asked what she meant, she shrugged. "Nothing. I was wondering on ways to make the condition between these countries better. I've learnt that things aren't as complicated as they appear to be. Everything can be sorted out, what we need is just a proper and reliable way of communication so no misunderstandings can be aroused."

"That's deep, Elise." I'd never seen this thinking side of Elise. She'd always been agreeing to everything I say that I thought she'd never think anything on her own. I guess the project was a good idea if they all were trying to do their best.

"Thank you." She'd smiled, a bright smile that made her look strong and confident, so different from what she always seemed to be. Could it be that the Elise I knew was just a fragment of the actual girl?

Now that we were talking about New Asia, there were a few questions I couldn't fund answers of. "Can I ask you something, about New Asia."

She gave me another of her big smile as if saying Duh! "Of course. I would be happy to help you with your curiosity."

I nodded and asked her something that I'd learnt in my visit to New Asia but couldn't grasp my mind of that. "Arrange marriages are common in there." It wasn't a question.

Elise had given me one of her quirked smiles. "Yes. Over there, the practice of arranged marriages are very common. So common that people don't try falling in love because they don't want to disappoint their parents." At my puzzled look she gave me another one of her secret smile. "When a child is born in there, since then the parents of the child think about their marriage. You see, the practice of living separately is alien. Children still live with their parents. With their grandparents."

I could understand what she was trying to say. In Illéa, once a person turns sixteen, they can start earning without being accused of child labour. They can contribute their income to their family. It was a common practice in the lower castes. Once they become capable, they move out of the house—the houses here are too small to encompass the big families. There they start to build their own life, their own family. It was such a shocker to see families living together in New Asia. An eighty year old man walking beside his child and grandchild.

Two different poles, and so were their beliefs.

Elise had seen me thinking about it thoroughly, and said, "Over there, love marriages are seen as unholy and arranged marriages as the blessing of God. Yes, there are some places where people have started to accept the love marriages, where live-in is common, but a majority still believe in the prejudices."

"And what about you? You're as much of an Illéan as an Asian. What do you believe in?"

She'd averted her eyes from mine, her gaze fixed on window facing the forest beyond the palace. "My mother had already accepted her destiny. She'd known she would marry an unknown because her father wanted her to. She never objected. When Karan Nayar finally allowed his youngest daughter to accompany him and her brothers, Siddharth, Shlok and Arjun, she was above herself. You see, even though she was a princess, she wasn't allowed to travel to many places. That was her first time she'd travel to any other country, let alone across the sea. They stayed in Hotel Atlanta, the most successful hotel chain in Illéa. There she met Ralph Whisks and soon fell in love."

The smile, which had been playing on her lips, turned down. "Everybody knows this. It isn't any secret or something, but they don't know what Maa had to go through to follow her heart. Nana was furious, Nani was beyond herself. They both denied her to marry anyone who they haven't chosen. Said it passed a wrong impression to their country. She was even ready to run, but her siblings helped them. Both aunts, Khushi and Aarya helped her to convince Nana. Even her brothers helped them. Both Siddharth and Shlok were married, so my Mamis, as in their wives, Tanya and Harshika, helped her when Nana slapped Maa and refused outright. She fought for about a year. She refused to meet any other boy. She refused to eat unless Nana accepted her relationship. In between all this, Dad kept in touch with her with the help of my Mamas. Finally, after a year and half, when Mom was withering with weakness, Nana let her go. He accepted her choice and blessed their marriage."

"She really did fought hard, didn't she?"

"Very. See, but the thing was, it caused a riot that Nana had a very hard time controlling. People were protesting because they couldn't accept their princess bethroted and married to a foreigner, that too an Illéan, and top of that as a love marriage. Everything Nana feared was in front of his eyes. Maa never stepped in her own homeland because of people's anger and resentment towards her. We never went to New Asia—she never let us. I've never stayed there for more than a couple months in my whole eighteen years."

"That's..."

"Sad?" She'd put in, laughing. "Tell me about it."

"So, your mother expects you for to marry me?" I concluded. It didn't feel like she had s choice, but more like an assignment. A task that was just hers to fulfil.

"More like marry you so that I can help dissolve the issues and threats of war." She shrugged, her eyes still averted from mine. "I know it sounds funny, but it's more complicated than that. She never told me why, but I always guessed it was because she wanted to prove to her people that she did it."

"That's complicated, yeah."

She laughed without humour. "You asked if arrange marriages were common there? I hope this gives you a good enough answer: the people of New Asia had given up on her, but when they came to know she has a daughter, they expected the same of me—an arrange marriage. Sort of like an even trade. It's... diabolical, but it as it is."

She sighed, more like exhausted.

"So? If I do choose you, won't it be like a love marriage because I chose you?"

She laughed. "I wish it was that simple. See, during the ancient times, the princes and princesses used to practice a ritual called Swayamvar. Think of it as a Selection. Princes from every nation used to come so that a princess could choose one from many as her husband and vice versa. That practice had long been gone, but here I am, in your Selection."

"Oh. So it won't be a sort of love marriage because it's just another of their ritual being performed here," it was all messy, "and you—the granddaughter of the late king of New Asia, the niece of the current king of New Asia—are a part of their ritual."

"As you said earlier, complicated."

Now, alone in the night, looking at the stars winking at me from the cloudless sky, I couldn't help but think about what Elise had told me about her life. The glimpse in her mother's life had been like a reality check on what I'd never thought was possible. I'd always thought that being a prince, my life was full of choices that weren't actually choices but necessities that I ought to do. But Elise...she wasn't even a real princess, just related to the Royalties, and still her life was similar to mine. She wasn't allowed the liberty of choices. She'd never had one.

Now if I look back, I understood her every action. Why she never contradicted me, why she always sat straight as if a huge burden was on her shoulders. Not only her family, but also her maternal family was looking at her every action. She was given a choice that she never wanted but had to take because there had been no alternative.

I'd always thought the Selection was thrust upon me, but now that I got a glimpse through her point of view, I knew that unlike me, yet just like me, she was thrust in the Selection. Just because some people, my father included, were messing with our lives just for the name of peace which they didn't actually want in the first place.

Life could be so cruel sometimes. It gave her a chance to rectify what her people thought was her mother's mistake, but the price was her happiness. Not that she wasn't happy here, but that if she'd had a choice, she wouldn't be here.

I'd talked to Justin about it, as even he carried the burden of what his parents had left for him, or rather didn't. His reply had given me chills. "Why to even consider it when we know there's no option out? You talk about having no choice, but at least you have the idea that there may had been an alternative for you. Me? I don't even remember my parents' face, Maxon! I just remember their name, that's it! I don't even have any heirloom to think they might have ever been real." His breathing had turned hard. "Everything I've ever looked upon, even felt happy about, has been taken away from me. So no, I don't believe in choices. For me, they're more like an alternate reality which I'll never get to witness."

"What about Sharon?" I'd asked him. I knew I shouldn't push him, but something in his reply had stuck me. Made me irrational.

His nostrils had flared. "Don't say her name!" He'd nearly yelled, standing so close to my face, his breathing laboured. "She is the only family I have left and I don't want to jinx it. She is something I've coveted, the only thing I've ever snatched even if she was never to be mine. Do not jinx it, Maxon!"

That was always Justin. He always thought he was unworthy. Because he'd lost his parents in a car accident and his grandfather a year later, he never thought about anything as his anymore. Even as he'd started to accept Mom as an important part of his life, Father had objected, reminding him why he always thought nothing could ever be his.

Unlike me, he always had something to lose.

A blessing as well as a curse.

Now that I was alone, I thought about what he'd said. You talk about having no choice, but at least you have the idea that there may had been an alternative for you. Was it true? Yes, I've grown up with so many things and people around me I always thought I could never be alone, but right now, I couldn't he more wrong.

The girl I loved was one I want to covet, because she doesn't belong to my world.

Was he right? I always thought I had a choice, but what if father took the final decision? I knew what, or rather whom he'd choose, and it wouldn't be America.

Mom and Father were two different people. A perfect example of two different poles living together. Where Mom believed in destiny, Dad believed everything could be achieved by our hard work. It was a dilemma because none of them was wrong. But there were times when Mom told me to challenge my fate and dare it to owe me my happiness, while Dad told me to just do it because there was no other way, because that was what fate required of us. Even their believes were never still, always changing as per the situation. So, what was the chances that what I had in front of me was a way of choice or fate mocking me.

How could I know?

Since the starting of the Selection, there has just been a dilemma—I want to choose America but I can't because she haven't declared her love to me. On the other hand she refused to declare her love to me because I haven't chosen her yet. Kriss wanted me to choose her already, she had even declared her love to me, but I can't do that. Not until I still have hope on America.

Just like my newly formed relationship with the Northern rebels. They wanted me to have faith in them. While I wanted them to prove themselves. They were ready to do that, but only on the terms that I have faith in them. A loop connected with another.

But wasn't it a part of just a circle, where every loop connected with another.

A big chain, which could be solved just by a single decision.

A choice.

A paradox, that had the ability to alter everything if opened.

So what was I actually imagining. The choice that was in front of me or the illusion of choice that had been presented in front of me.

Did I really have a choice?