Hey guys welcome to the monthly installment of Heart! I had to take some time to do some ~planning~ so that's my excuse. Hopefully, that means the next chapters will be faster because I know what they are, but no promises. Review shout outs to Nameless, anj, Virtue01, Doctor Kay Strange, and mnbvcxz-xx!

Alright folks, quick reminder that people (delovlies) sometimes get this confused in reviews and both appear in this chapter.

Selection coordinators=Queen Christine, Queen Mother Francesca, Princess Nicole, and all the OG girls from Ethan's Selection: Nat, Gracie, Adele, and Elvira.

Council=King Andrew's advisory board, right now including Ethan and Wesley, the OG boys from Ethan's Selection days: Colin (prime minister, Ben (Secretary of Homeland), and Elvira (Secretary of the Military) and General Connelly (Secretary of Defense).

…

The Woman's Room was always a little weird for Wesley. It was just awkward, to wait outside to know if he would be admitted to the one place in the palace, he couldn't just walk into like he owned the place—since he kinda did. He had told Nicole and Christine to have this set up so he wouldn't have to wait like an idiot, but here he was. Finally, the door opened, and his mom greeted him with a smile.

"The girls said you can come in, Wes," she said.

"Great!" Wesley said like this wasn't all planned out ahead of time. Whatever, maybe for once he had actually been the only one to read the email. Francesca held the door open wider, and Wesley walked past her inside. The last time he had been here was when Aidan convinced him to spy on the Selected and that had not gone well in the slightest. It was a beautiful space, like all the rooms, but it was just…the Woman's Room. It was all cream and rose gold and regular gold and lace and very perfect for the Selected or resident princesses to hang out it. The ten Elite were all there, all looking gorgeous of course, and his mom, Nicole, and Christine. As usual, the rest of his coordinators were crashing the party, which meant Nat and Gracie and Adele and Elvira were all there too, for this "official" announcement—but most likely just for the nostalgia that definitely would make Nicole cry.

"Hi, everyone!" Wesley said, rubbing his hands together as he entered the room. This was probably only the most awkward thing he'd ever done. The Elite greeted him back with various waves and mumbled greetings, and Wesley instantly forgot the little speech he memorized ahead of time. "Well, I don't know how much they've all told you," he glanced at the rest of the Selection coordinators, "and I'm sure you all know New Years is coming up, and now that we're at the Elite…" he trailed off, very glad that he wasn't the heir or the spare because public speaking was not his thing. "New Year's Eve deserves a party and since…since oneofyouisgoingtobeaprincess," he choked out quickly, "I thought it was a good idea for you guys to plan the celebration and get some practice hosting and event planning!"

The girls exchanged a few confused looks, and no one really responded to his upbeat ending. Damn, it had been so good in his speech. His coordinators weren't helpful either, they were already talking quietly about the time they had done the same thing for two foreign receptions—again.

Wesley looked to his mom for help, but Francesca only nodded to encourage him along. Alyex gave a thumbs up.

"My mom and Christine and Nicole will be here to help you along-"

At this, Nat purposefully cleared her throat.

"And the rest of the veteran selected ladies who are helping to coordinate the Selection," Wesley added. "It's a palace tradition to hold a party, we call it a ball, but it's not exactly not a ball. The guest list is much smaller and there are more traditional New Years things, like fireworks and stuff at midnight."

The girls were looking at each other, some looked happy, while some did not.

"And one more thing. This is the first year we're holding it outside the palace." There were a few noises of excitement all around from the girls. "It's going to be held on the royal yacht."

He watched Ophelia and Veyra look at each other, mouths dropping open.

"The royal yacht?" Eleanor gasped. Wesley nodded. "You'll be taking a field trip on Monday, though I won't be able to join."

A recent addition to the royal family, the yacht was docked seaside in Angeles and would go out on the Santa Monica Bay for the night. Wesley had yet to see or go on the yacht since it had been gifted to them by the royal families of the United Arab Federation after the north's surrender and a cemented trade agreement. Wesley always thought that was kind of weird, but hey, free yachts. The five levels were a little ostentatious, but you wouldn't hear him arguing. In summary, it was the perfect place to hold a New Year Eve party. Ethan had shown him pictures of one of the eight staterooms and Wesley was already planning on passing out in one of them after conveniently missing midnight and inevitably having to pick a girl to kiss.

"I can't wait!" Eleanor said, looking at him as she twined a strand of dark hair around her finger. "Are you available to help us out too?" she asked.

"Uhh," Wesley began, "Not really. I've got a meeting with the Council. " He didn't mention the date he had planned with Dresden later. "You'll have plenty of help, I'm a disaster at this kind of thing."

He was saved by anymore conversation by his mom pulling him aside as he turned to leave.

"Remember what I told you before Christmas?" Francesca said as they walked toward the door. She patted his shoulder. "It's been more than a month now since you announced the Elite. No one's gone home."

"I know, I know," Wesley pushed his hair back, reminding himself he needed a haircut. Just another thing on the list. "It's just…hard."

Things with the faction were still fragile and they were still healing other scares from the war. Christmas had been a nice break but now the crazy was coming back in full force, and the Selection was even more stress. It seemed like all the girls had their own supporters and opposers and everyone seemed way more passionate about this than him sometimes. People liked Dresden for her low-caste fairy tale and her dramatic fashion sense. People hated her for how cold she came off on the Reports and the media. Some people despised Vera for being from St. George, but her service to the Illean army gave her plenty of fans too. Eleanor was praised for her beauty and grace and criticized for her seeming so perfect. Ophelia and Fallon both came to the palace with fans of their own, while Ophelia was met with haters for her skin color and how they thought she was disconnected from "the real world" for some of the things she had said on the Report about politics. Fallon had massive support in Atlin and the north but with her last name, she came with people who were vocal against her family's actions that carried over to her. It was all starting to get to him.

"Well, I had an idea that might help you. Now that there are ten ladies left; I would like to start to get to know them better. Dinner, probably."

"Mom, they eat dinner with us pretty much every night."

"Yes, but I was thinking something more intimate. We can set up something quiet on the third floor. It will just be the family."

"And the kids?" Wesley asked. "That doesn't seem quiet."

"They're part of the family too, Wesley," Francesca told him as they stopped in front of the door. "Tomorrow night. You bring whomever you would like."

Wesley realized he didn't have much of a choice. Meet the parent and siblings (one of whom happened to be king) was going to have to happen eventually. He gave his mom a teasing salute and she insisted on kissing his cheek in front of all the Elite before he got away.

The next order of business was the Council meeting, so he traded the Woman's Room for the meeting room, with the only carryover being Elvira.

"How are you doing, Elvs?" he asked her as they took their seats and the rest of the Council filtered in. She was back on her feet after taking a bullet for him in downtown Angeles a little more than a month ago.

"Highly entertained after seeing you stumble through that speech," Elvira said, teasing him in a loving manner as she always did.

Wesley groaned, rubbing his face. "Ugh, that was so embarrassing. I always forget whatever I was going to say as soon as I start. Do you think it's a good idea?"

Elvira let out a snort of laughter. "I think it's just a good idea to not have teams. During Ethan's Selection-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know you guys have only told that story a hundred times. And I was there! I remember that girl from Zealand hanging all over me and how you guys were all in it to destroy the reception to make Lady Ebony look bad." He also remembered how jealous Lissa had been of that girl, but he didn't mention that.

Elvira fixed him with a look and spoke, dead serious. "There was a mud fight, Wesley."

Ethan sat down across from her, putting down a very large stack of papers in front of him. "Are you talking about the parties for the foreign receptions?"

"How did you know?" Elvira asked.

"I've only ever witnessed one mud fight," Ethan shuddered. "That was crazy."

"Oh hey, was that when all the Selected were on teams?" Colin joined them, pulling out the chair next to Wesley. Wesley put his face in his hands and groaned. "When those girls tackled each other in the mud?"

"Not the best idea Ethan's ever had," Elvira said, elbowing him. Ethan rolled his eyes.

Colin laughed, taking a very un-Prime Minister-like slurp from his coffee. "Yeah, I was there too. I turned the sprinkler on Adele."

"Alright, yeah, I'm not doing teams," Wesley said, interrupting before he had to hear the story again. It was weird to think about then sometimes. They had all been so young and everything had been so different and turned upside down and broken them all apart and they had to put themselves back together. But here they were. "I believe we had a meeting?"

The incessant reminiscing ended, and Ben took over the meeting. Thankfully, he hadn't been present then too, or Wesley was really in for another retelling. There were a few simple things to go over, like the budget and a report on public opinion and then it was onto some new things.

"We're moving ahead with the Public Trials," Andrew said. "It's something that the faction who attacked Wesley and Lady Vera are supporting."

"What about the rest of the country?" Ben asked him.

"It's not the most popular thing we've announced," Andrew admitted. "There's a mixed reaction, and it's split down the middle."

"Are you sure we want to pursue something that half the country doesn't agree with?" Colin mentioned. "Or at least doesn't like?"

The Public Trials had been announced just after Christmas, in response to the increasingly vocal faction of those who disagreed with the monarchy's handling of the rebels and the re-unifying of the country after the secession and the war. They advocated a stronger punishment and a continued separation. The Trials were a response to that, with a multi-day televised tribunal. Some of the leaders of the rebellion were in jail for their war crimes, but many were not. The Trials would be a sort of prosecution to those who had been responsible for much the rebellion, a group of politicians, military leaders, spies, and those who had backed the movement financially. It wasn't necessarily an actual court trial, because Andrew would be presiding, and there was no jury or anything. It was mostly a show, an opportunity for Illea to hear the crimes and wrongdoings committed, with some action taken.

"They wanted me to eliminate Georgia, Fallon, and Vera," Wesley reminded them. "We said no because we can't just give in to their demands. The Public Trials was our idea, but it should be a form of appeasement."

"I still don't like it," Colin said. "We always said that keeping the county together was the most important thing, and we weren't going to punish the north when it was over—that was just going to make things worse."

"It's not punishing the north; it's a hearing for the instigators and the leaders," Andrew said.

"I still argue that it's an unfair exercise of the king's power," Colin said, his tone still respectful. "This should be a judicial matter if it should be a matter at all. Some of these people have been invited to get their verdict."

"It's necessary, in my opinion," said Ethan. "We're not handing out death sentences or life imprisonment. It could be worse. We're still moving ahead with adding some of the northern politicians to the Council."

Wesley didn't say anything, as the others debated. This hadn't been his idea. In fact, he wanted as little to do with the faction as possible. He was already going to have to attend, not to mention dealing with the fact that some of the people who were going to be on trial were the father, uncle, and grandfather of one of his Selected—Fallon. To make things worse, Georgia had been called on to testify, for her inside information when she served the Crown as a double agent in Yukon. He had talked it over with Andrew and Ethan and they had decided that the best course of action would be for him to accompanied by both Fallon and Georgia, as well as Vera. It would show the faction that they didn't intend to back down on that point, but they were willing to compromise somewhat.

Vera had told him she thought it was ridiculous, even though she had nearly been a victim of their attacks. In her words, she just wanted to move forward, not back. Fallon hadn't said a word outside of the fact she would attend, but he knew it would be hard for her. She had made it clear she didn't want to leave the palace and return to her family, but he was pretty sure she didn't want to stay with him either. Georgia had been her usual vague self about it, saying she was already going to be there. He hadn't mentioned it to any of the others. It all seemed…kinda terrifying.

By the time the rest of the Council had gotten some more things more hammered down and set some groundwork for adding a few new Council members, Wesley had to make a quick exit since he had a date planned.

He had sent Dresden a note to meet him out on the back terrace, that led down into the gardens. He found himself not the one who was late for once. It was cool for winter in Angeles, and Wesley was thankful for the plentiful afternoon sunshine while it lasted, though the short days were always a bit jarring for him.

As usual, there was a small troupe of reporters trying to look inconspicuous, which did nothing to settle his nerves. He had been on several dates with Dresden by now, of course, because she was in the Elite. They had never gone very well. He knew she didn't partially relish the idea of the Selection or him, but she didn't seem to be in any hurry to leave. Surprisingly, even though most of the dates they went on involved the other Selected (safety in numbers, Wesley decided), Dresden had a large fan base. Hailing from Columbia, a border province that had nearly seceded itself, she was a former six who's rags-to-riches story visibly played out as her ribbon-thin frame filled out and she traded her worn-out clothes for a dramatic high fashion look.

She was wearing oversized sunglasses when she arrived a few minutes later, paired with a cream-colored slip dress and a leather jacket hanging off her shoulders that matched her heeled ankle boots. Wesley would have offered her his coat, but then he remembered he was a lil' bitch about the cold and the chill didn't seem to bother Dresden at all.

"Hi," he greeted brightly. It might be too much to hope for but maybe this date would go well.

Dresden gave him a little smile, her lips painted in a dark berry color. She was more focused on the camera hiding down the garden path.

"I didn't really have time for a big date, but I thought we could just take a walk?" He asked. "The sun's nice."

She tossed her black hair back, her sunglasses covering up her eyes. "Sure," she shrugged. The camera folks had stopped taking pictures and were now looking at the display, he noticed. Dresden pulled her jacket up over her shoulders and followed him as he started to amble along.

"I didn't get a chance to ask," Wesley said, crooking his arm at his side so she could hold onto it—if she wanted. "How was Christmas for you? I know it must have been hard for you to be away from your family." They had talked in passing about her mother and younger sister, the one subject that didn't seem to raise her defenses.

Dresden didn't take his arm, keeping her head lowered as they walked. "I think we all missed our families. I sent presents to them, but it's not the same."

"Oh, well good." Wesley thought back to Christmas. Dresden had reasonably pleasant, though unlike the other girls she had never gotten close to any of the others. She stayed quiet as they strolled, every now and then looking behind them at the trailing crew. He suddenly wished he could be out here with Vera, joking about the weather and listening to her stories of St. George and talking of everything and nothing.

"Can I ask you something?" she finally said. "I mean if it's allowed."

"Yeah, of course," Wesley said. He lowered his arm. It was getting pathetic.

"Where did the funding for that yacht come from? It doesn't really seem like the wisest financial choice. There's so much that money could have been used for."

"It was a gift," Wesley explained. "After the north started to fall, the seven royal families of the Arab Federation gave it to us. We had finished a trade agreement with them once the union was secured. Sure was nice of them."

Dresden pursed her lips. "And you didn't sell it? Or decommission it and use it for something else?"

"It was a gift?" Wesley answered. "That would be, like, rude?"

He didn't think Dresden cared about being rude. Some of the media said she was only here for the money, others still held true to her Cinderella story. Wesley didn't know what to think.

"They wanted Andrew to have a safe way to travel up the coast since the rebel air force was still a strong presence."

He swore she rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses. "And he needed a yacht for that?"

"Yeah, he did." Wesley shot back. "I mean, they shot my plane down and they didn't even know it was me flying it."

Dresden finally turned to look at him, eyebrows arching over the sunglasses.

"What?"

"Your plane got shot down? I thought you were just in the military."

Wesley remembered that most of that information wasn't exactly public knowledge. He suspected that the only girl who knew about all of it was Vera.

"I was. I was a pilot. I served under Captain Entrinken until that happened. That was three months before the surrender." He didn't tell her about how Drake had died or how most of the information they had been carrying had fallen into rebel hands or how he had to run away like a coward. He didn't tell her about when he was shot running away and how he crawled through the snow until the rebels were on him and then he had killed all three of them and lay bleeding in the snow with the bodies bleeding around him until Elvira had sent a helicopter out after he and Drake failed to appear at the base in Ottaro. Dresden would probably scoff at that, and he knew too that they only rescued him because he was a prince. "I was wounded, and none of the generals would let me go anywhere after I got out of the hospital anyway."

Dresden's boots clicked loudly along the path, the only sound. "I didn't know that," she admitted.

Wesley remembered the first time he had met her and fought back a smile. "You didn't believe me when I tried to tell you."

She took off her sunglasses and glanced at him. "I honestly didn't. I guess that makes me…kind of an ass, doesn't it?" She actually smiled at him and Wesley was so shocked he almost tripped when he stopped in his tracks.

Dresden looked back at him a pace behind her. "Sooo, sorry about that." The words seemed to stick in her throat as she avoided his eyes.

Wesley decided to forgive her anyway. "You also refused to dance with me at the Victory Ball, remember?" he said, half-joking. He caught up with her and they continued walking.

Dresden cringed. "I saw you dancing with Eleanor first and decided to save my feet," she actually joked.

"You don't like the Selection much, do you?" Wesley asked. It had come to his mind as a joke, but as the words tumbled out of him in their usual fashion, it felt way more serious. He didn't want to hear her answer. He didn't want her to ask him to leave like Valette and Callista. He didn't want to eliminate the first of his Elite. He didn't want to be one step closer to the end of the Selection.

Dresden rolled her lips together and somehow it didn't ruin her lipstick. "Not really," she admitted. "At least going into it, I thought it was pretty dumb."

"Then why did you come?" he asked. Eleanor and Vera had both been the runner-up in their provinces, he remembered. The next part of the question would be if she wanted to leave, but he didn't ask.

Dresden shrugged. "My little sister," she said. "There's not much left in Columbia anymore for us. I know everyone in the media says I'm only here for the money—maybe I was."

"And now?" he hadn't missed her use of the past tense.

Dresden was usually stony and cold and hostile, but this was the first time she seemed vulnerable. "I don't know. Maybe…maybe I could do something good while I'm here." Her eyes met his for a second and she actually blushed. "Not that I think I want to marry you," she blurted. "I haven't even considered that yet. I just…I'll have to get back to you on that."

Wesley smiled. "Well, please do. I know you don't think very highly of me. Maybe we could both do some good together."

She smiled back and Wesley changed the subject and asked her about her little sister and for the rest of their walk Dresden wasn't the block of ice he had come to know. He was almost disappointed when it ended, but the sun went down stupid early and the (fifty degree) temperatures were way too cold for Wesley. He walked her back to her room, and they said their goodbyes, even though dinner was in two hours. It felt nice to actually be straight with Dresden, to know that she understood him a little better and he understood her. He was even kinda looking forward to hanging out with her again.

The second floor seemed way too quiet for Wesley as he headed up the third floor. He realized he didn't even know whose room was whose, with the exception of Dresden, who had just shown him hers, and Vera. He used to come up here occasionally, during his brother's selections. Sometimes it still felt like it could be then.

Back in his room, he wasted a good hour chilling in bed with a pre-dinner beer, planning out some dates on his phone. This whole dinner with the family thing with each Selected was going to be weird, he knew. He went with Lillian for tomorrow, since he hadn't spent a lot of time with her lately. He would send a note to her room later, but first, he had to get ready for tonight's regular ol' dinner. He took a shower and put on a suit since his mom still insisted on changing every night for formality. Continuing with the theme of being early, for once he wasn't rushing to be on time.

He caught up with Veyra on the stairs as she stepped out from the second floor, wearing her usual black. Tonight, it was a textured long-sleeved gown that stopped at her ankles, revealing matching black pumps.

"Hey!" he called, jogging to catch up with her.

She turned at his call, sweeping the loose pieces of hair from her bun out of her eyes. "Hey yourself, Shreave," she greeted him.

Wesley fell in step beside her, doing his best to ignore the buzz he always felt around the former secret agent, blaming it on the beer he'd had earlier. "How's it going?"

Veyra smirked at him. "Oh, you know. The usual. Planning a New Years' party for the royal family on their royal yacht."

"How's that going?"

Her nose wrinkled as she frowned. "Pretty badly, if I'm honest. No one's really getting along. We were at it all day."

"Oh yeah?" Wesley said, genuinely curious now. "I thought you guys were all best friends."

Veyra laughed. "Um, no. I mean, Ophelia's like my best friend, but no one else really gets along. Well, I take that back, Alyex and Iris are actual angels. You were with Dresden, so that made Eleanor pissy and Ophelia got annoyed by her. Vera and Georgia have never got along, and Lillian got mad because Fallon wasn't helping," she finished with a sigh. "It was a mess. Consider yourself lucky you missed it."

"What about you?" Wesley asked as they reached the Main Hall and headed across to the dining room. "How do you like my idea?"

"I'm probably the worst person ever at planning anything," Veyra said. "But I like yachts."

"Do you need help or anything? I'm sure my mom-"

"Oh yeah, sure just ask the dowager queen to help me with the decorations on a yacht I've never been on," Veyra joked in her usual sarcastic way. They went into the dining room together.

"Hi, Wesley," Eleanor said as they passed where she was sitting.

"I'll catch you later?" Wesley asked Veyra as he waved to Eleanor. "Let's do something."

Veyra's lips curled into a smile. "I'll hold you to it. We can watch a movie or drink that gross liquor you like. Or both."

Wesley fake gagged at her suggestion. "And you can drink your fancy little disgusting fake beer things." He shot her some finger guns. "Both. Definitely."

Veyra rolled her eyes at him as she sat down, and Wesley left the Selected table to sit with his family.

For the first time in perhaps ever, maybe the Selection was going okay.

…

Chapter referenced from Selected Twins is 52 : )