Review hugs to Miss Kaydence, Nameless, canifindtheone, delovlies, airdog1208, and my guest reviewer (If you would like to submit, you'll have to finish the form! Also make sure to pick a province that is open—see my profile!)

So I had every intention of getting this out by Wednesday, but that didn't work obviously. Still, it's a long chapter, and if you've read Selected Twins, a bit of a throwback :)

Also, though technically the deadline has passed, I'd be willing to accept a couple more characters (especially from St. George). They won't be in this chapter, obviously, but they can still be in the story. If you haven't sent in your whole form, please do so as soon as possible (though don't lose sleep or anything over it!)

-Shades

…

"So you're one of the princes, huh?" the guy said.

He looked at Elvira-Captain Entrinken, he reminded himself- who's only reaction was a slight raise of the eyebrow and twitch of the lips. They had discussed this—people were allowed to know who he was, but that didn't mean it would be common knowledge. No one else in the former civilian airport of Denbeigh had given him a second look. But this was his new co-pilot asking, so he supposed he had the right to know.
"Yep…you got me there," he said.

"Your sister's hot," the guy said, before extending a hand. "I'm Drake Ferguson, and I hear that we're going to be partners."

He allowed himself a smile, at Drake's easy-going way. They shook hands. "You heard right."

"And you better hope Wes knows what he's doing, Ferguson," Captain Entrinken said, "I hear you barely passed your last rating."

Drake smirked, and looked at his boots. "I passed, didn't I?"

Captain Entrinken pursed her lips, and looked very much like she was trying not to smile. "So, your first mission together shouldn't be difficult. Connelly needs new reinforcements in north Hudson—with Bankston seceding, you guys are going to need provide resistance from the air, we're having trouble getting the troops to safety. Rebel aircraft isn't advanced, not like ours, to be honest, you're more for show than anything,"

"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, Elvi—Captain Entrinken," he hastily corrected himself. "I'm sure we can handle-"

His next words were cut off as a blaring siren filled the compound, and a second later the lights cut out. He heard Elvira mutter a curse and then the ground shook. The next thing he knew he was on the floor, and there was broken glass in front of him.

He blinked, shaking his head to clear it, before realizing that he couldn't hear anything but the steadily increasing ringing in his ears. He looked over his shoulder, Drake was getting to his feet slowly, but Elvira was unconscious, her uniform sparkling from the glass bits—she had been standing closest to the now shattered window.

He sat up, as Drake was trying to tell him something, with vivid hand signs and mouthing emphatically, but to no avail. He pointed to Elvira, and Drake nodded.

The two managed to get one of her arms around each of their shoulders, stuck in the terrifying silence and feeling of the unknown. Then Drake was prodding him relentlessly with his free hand, pointing out the blown-out window.

He turned, and felt his blood chill. Any of the planes that had been there moments ago were burning, and he watched in horror as the one closest to them exploded. Even from there, he felt the wave of heat seconds later. Men in dark, dirty clothing were swarming over the tarmac, departing from Illean military helicopters and trucks, with no effort taken to hide their branding.

They were here, they were coming, they were all going to die.

They were here, they were coming, they were all going to die.

They were here, they were coming, they were all going to die—

Wesley's eyes shot open and his chest heaved for breath. With a shout, he sat up, jerking off the covers, eyes straining to see as he struggled to catch his breath.

His room at the palace. Angeles. Safe.

It was okay. It was okay. It was okay.

He didn't dare close his eyes, the memories still lurking too close. It was morning, and outside, the sky was beginning to lighten. He switched on the lamp beside his bed anyway, chasing away the terror.

When his heart stopped slamming into his ribs and his breathing returned to normal, he laid back down, even though getting back to sleep would be futile.

Two weeks had passed since Wesley had returned home from Trentworth with the rest of his family, and he had agreed to a Selection, and literally ran into Lissa and found out she was the new governess, and things hadn't gotten any less crazy then they had been that day.

It wasn't a bad kind of crazy, and it was nothing compared to the nightmarish hell that had been the last several years just inside the front lines.

But it was different, and he wasn't sure he really liked it. Deciding there wasn't much use prolonging the coming day, Wesley got out of bed, and went to the window to look out over the gardens.

Sure, there were always meetings, especially with the new Council members as they discussed moving into a new era for Illea, which meant that the palace was almost always full of Adele and Nat along with Colin and Ben, not to mention Elvira, Gracie, and Damian too. But then there were other times where he felt like he was going to spontaneously combust into flames from doing nothing.

On the other hand, aside from their single conversation, he had successfully been avoiding Lissa, which wasn't hard, as she was with Evie and Sophie all the time. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to her, it was just that he didn't know what to say, or what she would say, or anything. He could start by asking her why she had never contacted him after the revolution failed, or come to Ethan and Nicole's wedding, or why he hadn't seen or heard from her in five years.

But the truth was, he was scared to know. So, he left it alone.

He heard the door to his rooms open, and footsteps.

There was someone else who wouldn't leave him alone.

"Good morning, Sir," Joseph Sheppard said, in that annoying way of his, as he passed Wesley's room and went into his office carrying a fat folder. "Your mother asked me to bring these to you. I believe they are important regarding your Selection."

Wesley has asked his mom several times, okay he even begged, but she still insisted he needed a valet to choose his clothes and the like, and Joseph was the most qualified available one. It didn't change the fact that he was an arrogant little bastard who didn't even like talking to the footman, let alone taking orders from a prince.

It was frighteningly irritating how he was always hovering about Wesley's rooms, even when he wasn't there. He was always moving things and taking things from his closet and leaving doors open, and Wesley had caught him yelling at the house maids who came into clean a few times, though it seemed like he spent the majority of his time talking to the other valets and ladies' maids. In fact, without a doubt, whatever was in that folder, Joseph had seen in first, and probably ninety percent of the upper staff.

"Okay, you can just leave it there for now," Wesley said, hoping he would leave. Of course, he didn't, and Wesley could hear him opening his closet door. "Um, I'm good right now, you can go."

Joseph raised his eyebrows at Wesley, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," the words came out a little harsher than Wesley meant to, and Joseph opened his mouth to speak, but then decided against it.

"Okay. Just trying to do my job," he said, pausing mid eye-roll, before leaving, closing the door a little harder than necessary.

Finally, alone again, Wesley went into his office, eyeing the folder on his desk. He knew what it was, and he didn't really want to look at it. The Selection had been announced on the Report almost two weeks ago and three days ago, their names had been drawn randomly before undergoing scrutiny and background check. They had yet to be announced, so not even the thirty-five girls whose files were in this folder knew their lives were about to change forever. The only ones who did were his Selection coordinators—his mother, Nicole, and Christine. Not to mention Joseph and all his friends, but he decided to not worry about that quite yet.

He heard the door open again, and ran a hand over his face, suppressing a groan. But the light pattering footsteps did not signal Joseph's return at all. Instead, a small blur launched himself at Wesley, hanging onto his leg like it was a playground.

"Uncle Wesley!" Aidan cried, far louder than necessary, as usual. The nephew-blur was followed by two furry ones, one big white one and a smaller brown one.

Aside from the kids, another change to the palace was the two Shreave pups, Jack, the white German Shepard, and Finn, the golden retriever puppy that Andrew and Christine had thought would be a good idea to adopt a couple months ago from Gracie when Damian had decided they had one-too-many dogs in their apartment. They were nice dogs, but growing up, Wesley's father had hated animals actually inside the palace, so it was taking some getting used to.

"Hey, little man!" Wesley said, trying and failing as usual to pry Aidan off his leg. "What's crack-a-lacking?"

He heard Andrew laughing from the doorway, looking very not-very-king-like in his sweats and t-shirt.

"What, you bring him here just to cut off circulation in my leg?" Wesley joked, suddenly feeling the need to shield the folder from sight of his brother.

", the plan was to wake you up because I just heard that you're getting to see your Selected for the first time," Andrew said, grinning. "And I'm on Aidan duty today, Christine has decided she and Nicole are taking a day off."

As if on cue, Ethan appeared in the doorway, Jamie in tow, toddling along on his little legs. "Are we late?"

The kid giggled at the sight of Wesley, and ran towards him, saying something that might have been his name. Wesley bent down to catch him before he toppled over.

"No, unfortunately, someone decided to get up before we could surprise him," Andrew said. "But I take it the forms have been dropped off? We're here to check them out with you."

"Um, in case you two don't remember, this is my Selection and that means it's private, not to mention you're both married."

The room suddenly seemed very small, with his two older brothers, their sons, and the two dogs, and there was no hiding the folder on his desk. He vaguely remembered doing this to Ethan before his Selection, and now that he was on the other end, it wasn't as fun as he remembered.

Wesley burst out laughing as loudly as he could. "Oh, this? You thought this was the forms?" he motioned to the folder, and laughed some more. "Well, sorry bros, but this pajama party isn't going to happen because this is just a bunch of…paper work for the thing we talked about…yesterday, and my valet just dropped it off and now sorry but I should probably get to work!"

He picked up the folder, but of course it had to spill in contents everywhere. Photographs of the girls and their forms suddenly went tumbling everywhere, and the secret was out.

Andrew picked up one of the pictures, and held it out to Wesley. "I'm pretty sure Lady Georgia Sorrel isn't one of the things we talked about yesterday."

Wesley could only give a sheepish shrug as an excuse.

"And I'm pretty sure that you two cornered me in my room and made me rate all my Selected, so we're continuing the tradition now," Ethan said, gathering up a bunch of the forms, and handing them back to Wesley.

Wesley groaned, and then flopped face-first onto his bed. It didn't, however, stop Aidan and Jamie from crawling up there with him and clambering into excessively cuddly positions on his lap, or Ethan sitting in his chair, with Andrew leaning against the wall, and the dogs curling up on the floor.

Andrew gave a dramatic threat-clearing, and nodded to the photograph Wesley was holding. "So, what do you make of our girl from Yukon, Lady Georgia?" She was pretty, with brown eyes and blonde hair, and eyebrows so perfect it made him want to jump off a cliff. He glanced at her form and saw she was a Three, from the recently restored into the union, Yukon.

"I make that I've seen her before," Wesley sneered back. "She was the girl who was on all the rebel propaganda posters. What is she doing here?"

Ethan shrugged. "Apparently being part of your Selection. Or, as I recall the term you coined for mine, one of your concubines," he turned to Andrew. "Eight out of ten?"

"My thoughts exactly," Andrew said, and both of his brothers turned their gaze on him.

He grimaced, "You guys are married."

"And our wives are both way too hot to even fall on the scale of one to ten," Ethan corrected him. "This is for you."

Wesley handed Aidan the photo. "What about you, little man?"

The kid studied the photo, and then looked at Wesley. "She's pretty," he said.

Wesley rolled his eyes. "Okay, fine. I give her a seven," the answer was more to spite his brothers than anything, because Georgia Sorrel was really really pretty.

He handed the photo and form back to Andrew, who swapped him for another set, making it clear that this wasn't going to end after just one girl.

"What about Dresden Senna?" Andrew goaded him, smirking. Unlike Georgia's fair complexion and nice makeup, Dresden had rough looking olive-toned skin, with a scrape on one cheek, and a dark braid hanging over her shoulder. Her face was angular and rather harsh, aside from her full lips.

"She looks a little scary," Ethan said. "Where's she from?"

"Columbia, so she'll have seen lots of the fighting," Wesley read. "She's a Six, so that won't help much."

"She's still pretty. I give her an eight too," Andrew said, peering over Wesley's shoulder.

"Nah, I'd go for a seven. She looks like she could kill someone," Ethan shuddered, and Wesley looked at Dresden's picture again. Come to think of it, she looked a bit like Ebony Winters, one of the girls from Ethan's Selection, which was not a pleasant memory.

"Six," he said, once again out of spite. Aidan demanded the picture too, so Wesley let him and Jamie look at it while Andrew read the next form.

"Here's Nikoli Castway. She's a Seven from Dakota, and it says here she makes dolls for a living."

The girl looked nice, with short dark hair, green eyes and pale skin, and she was smiling sweetly in the picture.

"Doll making," Wesley stated, "that's an interesting occupation."

"The girls will probably like her," Andrew said, "they're crazy about dolls."

The mention of his daughters made Wesley think of Lissa, but he quickly pushed her out of his mind. "I'd give her a five."

His brothers agreed, and then they moved onto the next girl. Several more passed in a blur, and he had no idea how he would ever remember Lady Nellie from Labrador from Lady Gwendolyn from Lakedon.

Lady Fallon Berlin from Atlin was the next girl who caught his attention. At first, he just liked the way she looked, with her long dark hair streaked with blonde at the ends, but Andrew caught his attention.

"Now, I think you should know that Lady Fallon wasn't randomly picked. Her father negotiated a deal with me to let her in, and I decided not to turn him down. Besides, the people in Atlin and all over know who she is, and they love her," Andrew said, serious for the first time since this had begun.

"She's a Berlin, though," Ethan interjected, "They backed Mitch and the rebels during the revolution, and they were the driving force behind Atlin's secession."

Wesley didn't know much of the inside details from the war, since he had been off actually fighting, so this was news to him. But Fallon didn't look like a rebel supporter any more that Georgia had, with a certain softness and vulnerability to her face.

"But isn't the whole point of my Selection to bring unity back anyway? I give her an eight," Wesley said, passing around her picture for them to all see. It was the highest score he had given since they had beginning, and both of his brothers swapped grins.

"I still bet she's going to be a revolutionary. I give her a six," Ethan frowned, and Wesley knew his brother would never forget what happened to them during Mitch's attempted revolution.

"That doesn't change her looks," Andrew told him, "I give her a seven."

"Hey, she's a model, guys. Give her some credit," Wesley reached for the next in the stack. "And Ophelia Aziza is a musical theatre star. She's from Waverly, obviously. Any of you heard of her?"

"Yeah, actually Nicole and I went and saw her perform a few years ago. She was really talented," Ethan said, "I thought her name sounded familiar."

Ophelia was striking, with her golden-olive skin, black curls, and deep brown eyes. She looked friendly, in a soft sort of way.

"I'll give her a seven," Wesley gave his go-to answer. It was intimidating when he remembered that he would actually have to date these girls.

Ethan gave her a six and Andrew gave her a seven too, and they moved to the next girl in the stack.

"Valette Mali, a neurosurgeon in training, from Whites," Ethan read, as he turned her form over to Wesley. "It says here her father is the Indian ambassador to Illea."

"Yeah, Ambassador Mali requested asylum for his family, but we never could safely extract them," Andrew said. "Hopefully there won't be any hard feelings.

Wesley studied the girl in the photo, and felt compelled by her lighthearted smile and the sparkle in her dark eyes. She was of Indian descent, obviously, and had black hair and caramel colored skin, along with a ski-slope nose and high cheekbones. "I'll give her a five," he said. She wasn't as striking as Ophelia or Fallon.

"So who is next?" Andrew asked, and Wesley took out the next form in the stack.

"Alyexandria Volkov, a Three from Hudson. She's studying to be a doctor, and I bet she got plenty of experience in the civil war," Wesley said, shuddering to think that a girl who looked as sweet at Alyexandria may have seen what he had.

She had light brownish blonde hair and light eyes that Wesley couldn't decide if they were blue or green. Her delicate face made her look younger than her nineteen years, but she was still pretty.

"She looks nice. I'm giving another six," Wesley said, shifting his arm in an attempt to restore blood flow lost from holding Jamie. Finn the puppy was now sleeping on his foot—on the bed, much to Wesley's chagrin.

His brothers agreed, and Wesley realized this wasn't so bad—at home with his family was much better than on the front lines. He was safe, having fun, and surrounded by people he loved. It could be a lot worse.

They moved through several more girls, and he forgot their names almost instantly, there were so many of them, and his ratings started to slip out of boredom.

It wasn't until they came across a form stamped with the logo of ISRA—the Illean Special Reconnaissance Agency—that Wesley took interest again. The ISRA had been extremely essential to the civil war, and gaining information on the side of the rebels. And one of their top agents, Veyra Tesorero, was now in his Selection.

She definitely looked intimidating, with light bronze skin, black hair, and dark brown eyes. Unlike the other photographs, she wasn't smiling, but stared straight ahead, fixing him with a stern gaze that almost reminded him of Elvira.

"She's 21, your age, Wesley," Ethan pointed out as they perused Veyra's form.

Wesley shoved his brother, "I know how old I am, dummy."

"She's a spy!" Aidan cried, eagerly pointing to the official stamp on her form.

"So, what do you think? I'm thinking five out of ten," Andrew said. "She looks lethal."

"Well, she's in my Selection, and I think she's really pretty so I'm giving her an eight," Wesley countered.

Ethan had obviously gotten bored of Veyra and was now looking at the next girl, "Hey, she's older than you, Wes. How do you feel about that?"

Andrew snatched the form out of Ethan's hands. "And she's really hot, too. Not as hot as Christine, but still."

Wesley gave them a look. "You guys are so messed up."

"We're not doing this for us, we're doing it for you, little bro," Ethan said. "Honestly, I could care less about them, but you have to, so…"

"Okay, let me see her," Wesley grabbed the form from Andrew.

"Lady Lillian Kolt," he read out. "22, lives in Ottaro, caste Four, forestry worker…wow, she is really pretty." Lillian sported shoulder length blonde hair, with green eyes and an elegant, heart-shaped face, and the confidence was evident in her picture.

"I'd even give her a nine," Wesley blurted out, feeling his stomach tighten with the nerve wracking thought of meeting her.

"Nah, still an eight for me," Ethan said. "I like brunettes."

"She looks like Christine, so Wes, I'm agreeing with you," Andrew nudged his shoulder. "How many more?"

"We're only about halfway done," Wesley groaned, and slumped back onto his bed. They went through many more, with Wesley barely glancing at them and muttering random numbers.

"Hey, she looks like Miss Gracie!" Aidan's incredibly loud shout in his ear made Wesley wince, but he sat up anyway, because anyone who looked like Gracie was a good bet to be an awesome addition to his Selection.
"What's her name?" he asked, as Andrew pulled the form from his son's hand before it was damaged and handed it to Wesley.

"Lady Darcy Campbell, a Six from Fennley," he said.

It was true, she did look like Gracie, with her easy-going smile, light blonde hair and big eyes.

"It says she's a secretary, but it looks like she bakes cupcakes too," Ethan mused from over Wesley's shoulder. "I'm sure Gracie will love her. I'm giving her a seven."

"Yeah, seven for me too," Andrew added.

"Okay, fine, I'm giving her an eight. I like her," Wesley said. He was about to lay back down again, but the next form in the increasingly shorter stack that caught his eye.

There was something in the gaze of Lady Iris Tanaka that immediately intrigued him, so he reached for the next form. Iris's smile was slight, but the way she was looking at the camera made her seem like she was grounded in the world, and she wouldn't just slip away like so many of the names and faces already had. Her long hair looked like it was dyed brown, and her dark eyes held a refreshing coolness that made him want to meet her even more.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Ethan interrupted his thoughts, and he felt heat rise in his cheeks, not realizing how long he had been staring at her.

"Nine," he stammered, though out of all the girls, he felt the most drawn to her, but he didn't want to admit it by giving her a ten.

"Hmm, she's not bad. Still, I'd go with a solid seven," Andrew said.

Ethan shrugged "I was thinking eight, but whatever. There's only three left, shall we proceed?"

Wesley stole one last look at Iris's form, and then switched his attention over to what Ethan was saying.

"Next is Lady Reese Novell, from Bankston. Another secessionist," Ethan said.

"Come on, man. Just because she's from there doesn't mean she is one,"

"You never know…" Ethan got quiet, and handed Wesley the form. He saw that she was a Four and earned her living as a personal trainer. Even though it was just a headshot, it was definitely obvious. She had light tan skin, dirty-blonde hair in a ponytail, and blueish gray eyes framed by long lashes and defined brows. What stood out to him the most, aside from her contagious smile and dimples was the maturity of her face. She was twenty-one, Wesley's age, but it looked like she had seen a lot.

"Wes!"

"Huh? What?" Once again, he had been caught taking in Reese's form a little too long, and had missed his brother's ratings.

"I said she's pretty—I'm giving her a seven," Andrew said.

"I'd go higher. Eight, maybe." Ethan added.

Wesley looked at Reese's picture again, and there was something about her that reminded him of Lissa.

"Yeah…eight…" he muttered, not wanting to think much about it.

The next girl was Lady Callista Ives, a Five from Carolina. Her form said she was a musical entertainer, though she looked anything but. She was pretty, her light brown skin was dotted with freckles, and her black hair was tied in a tight bun, and she sported an edgy nose ring. She was also not smiling in the picture—well, at least not really.

"I don't know about you guys, but she looks like someone you wouldn't want to mess with," Ethan said.

"She looks like she's killed someone," Andrew added. "Or at least tried."

There was a glow in her eyes, Wesley noticed. She may not be so bad after all.

"I like her. I'm giving her a six." She lacked the show-stopping beauty that Lillian and Iris had, but she was still pretty.

His brothers rated her a bit lower, but it didn't really matter since they were married. Anyway, Wesley was just excited to get to the thirty-fifth girl and finish this pajama party—it was getting close to nine and he was starving for breakfast and probably shouldn't have done this without coffee.

Admittedly, he glossed over Lady Piper Green's form. Ethan found it hilarious that she was an exercise rider, like Nat had been in her pre-Selection, pre-princess sister days. He did notice that the Four from Clermont was on the youngest end of the spectrum, at only eighteen, like Valette and Darcy. She had long, straight platinum blonde hair and blue eyes, and smiled shyly at the camera in the photo.

He sighed heavily, and tried to remember all the other girls that had come before her as he gave her a rating.

"Six? Come on, guys. I'm so hungry right now," Wesley begged.

"Yeah, six it is," Andrew said as Ethan nodded.

Wesley deposited Piper's form on the stack of all the others, and nudged Jamie and Aidan off his lap, giving Finn a gentle kick to move the pup off his bed.

"I suppose I should thank you guys," he told his brothers, "but maybe later, because all you've done is delay my breakfast and make me incredibly even more nervous."

Ethan wrinkled his brow, "That doesn't even make sense, Wes."

Andrew slung his arm around Wesley's shoulders, "Trust me, it's really not that bad."

"Oh, it's bad, but the end is worth it," Ethan said.

"Wesley shook his head, and rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help but grin. "You guys are the worst. Now come on, get your kiddos and let's go downstairs. I can practically smell the pancakes."

…