Hi everyone! Thank you for all your kind words last chapter aka my best work yet. This chapter is not my best work, and kind of a filler but we'll get there. I know this story has bad pacing sometimes, but if you've been here for a while that's just how I write! Review shout outs to anj, mnbvcxz-xx, Nameless, Virtue01, RunawayGirl8125, bibliophile609 and delovlies.

-shades

…

Project Wesley Being Okay was only on day two and it was not going so well.

He'd broken his no drinking resolution already in hangover cures and only succeeded in not smoking by having Nick dispose of all his cigarettes and going for a stupid amount of runs around the palace grounds whenever he craved nicotine. He had an appointment with a therapist this morning and it had gone…pretty well. Unfortunately, all that was overshadowed by the fact that the information his mom had disclosed to him during the party about Dresden was now plastered all over the media. Not even all of his Selection coordinators had been told, so they figured the leak had come from the governor of Columbia, who had told Francesca in the first place, or from someone in Dresden's past. Charges of her being involved in smuggling illegal firearms to the rebels were not easy to overlook.

The situation was not ideal, especially because Wesley had been avoiding talking to her. Coupled with he'd spent most of yesterday (after he woke up) in last-minute Council Meetings, the Public Trials began tomorrow. They had been an initial attempt to appease the faction calling for harsher punishments for the rebels, but as they quickly approached, it was met with increasing opposition from those who had just so recently been restored to living under the crown. Even some of those who staunchly supported the monarchy were calling it an overreach of power and some still thought it was unnecessary.

He needed help, and not just with the Dresden situation. There was still the awkwardness of everything that had happened with Lillian, he felt like something was weird between him and Veyra, he had no idea what was going on with Georgia, and the fast-approaching Public Trials was just making him more and more nervous. Which was why he found himself scrunched on Alyex's window seat as he tried desperately to ignore the coverage on the muted television, eating the spread of snacks her maid had brought them, glad that neither of them had eating better on their resolutions for the New Year.

"It's not that I really even care about Dresden," Wesley was saying as he swabbed his chips heavily in salsa. "I mean, she pretty much has always hated me, we just recently had a breakthrough."

"And that's what you're struggling with?" Alyex asked, from where she was sprawled over the powder blue bedspread that matched the rest of the color scheme of her room.

Wesley nodded slowly. "I think so. It's just unfair. We finally got to a place where we could have started something and now, I have to send her home."

"You don't know that."

"It's kind of obvious."

"You still haven't talked to her, have you?" Alyex cocked an eyebrow at him. "I told you like three times to just talk to her!"

Wesley tried to drown his sorrows in more salsa but it didn't seem to help today. "My mom basically commanded me to eliminate her."

Alyex glared at him as she stood up, crossing her arms. "Wesley, just talk to her! She might have a good reason or who knows, maybe she wants to go home anyway."

"But-"

"Be honest with me, do you feel anything for her? Do you feel like you could marry her one day?"

Wesley felt his heart speed up as Alyex drilled him with her question. He set his bowl of salsa down. "She kind of scares me." Even though between the two of them, Alyex was out of the running for romance, the words wouldn't come to tell her that he still struggled to imagine marrying any of them. His tactic had been to just take the Selection a few days at a time and it had worked so far. "I guess not."

Alyex let his words hang in the air, his answer reverberating back to him. He let his head hit the back of the window seat a little too hard and sighed dramatically. "I guess I'm talking to her then."

"Okay, then why are you still here?"

Wesley frowned, concentrating a little too hard on his snack so the chips broke apart in the salsa. "Has Veyra said anything? About me?"

Alyex shook her head. "Not to me. Why?"

"Something happened with us and I don't know what. We were having a great time at the party and all of the sudden she got weird and I kissed her, and I think it made things worse, even though she already kissed me once before."

Alyex pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.

"I…should probably talk to her too?"

"See, you didn't even need me to figure that one out," Alyex gently mocked. "Wesley, in my experience, proper communication usually prevents these problems in the first place."

"And that's why you're my friend!" Wesley said. "Thanks for your help. Now, do you want to watch a movie or something? I'm super bored."

After that, Alyex kicked him out of her room until he talked to Dresden, telling him he wasn't going to make anything better until he did. He avoided the problem for a little while longer, checking in on some reports about the Trials and hiding in his room until he thought he was going to go crazy. He had a date with Eleanor tonight, so he figured he better do something about Dresden before then. He mustered up his courage and went back down to the second floor. Her maid told him she wasn't in her room, and after searching for a while he found her in one of the parlors of the second floor reserved for the Selected's use. She was by herself, as he would have expected, dressed casually in black leggings and an off the shoulder gray sweater, though her heels looked more appropriate to a ballroom. She looked up as he walked in, and he watched her start to scowl but she quickly pasted on a strained smile.

"Hello," she greeted him, looking sheepish.

"Hi, Dresden," he sat down on the edge of the couch opposite her, too anxious to lean back. "What's up?"

She waved the papers on her lap. "Writing to my family."

He nodded in response, rubbing his sweaty hands on his knees as an awkward silence descended over them.

"I suppose this is about everything people are saying about me?" she asked after a moment, not making eye contact. She had always enjoyed a healthy fan base, coming from a war-torn province to the palace gave her support, even if she was never shown to spend much time with Wesley.

"I suppose it is," Wesley said. "I didn't know what else to do."

She held his gaze as she leaned back against the couch, her movements careful. "I probably should have told you earlier about it so it wouldn't be a scandal."

"The media had other ideas," he attempted to joke, but Dresden didn't smile. "So… you smuggled weapons to the rebels?"

Dresden nodded casually; her eyebrows raised cockily. "I won't deny it." She crossed her legs like they were just having a simple conversation. "I'm not a rebel. I never cared one way or another. I didn't have time to worry and fret over political squabbling when I had mouths to feed."

"So why did you keep it a secret?"

"I guess I was scared this would happen," Dresden shrugged. "And it is. Though for the record, Georgia and Fallon were way more involved than I ever was. I guess because they came here with everyone knowing about them, it makes it okay," she narrowed her eyes at him, her dark makeup making her look somewhat frightening.

"Yeah but keeping it secret was what made it a scandal," Wesley told her. "Now it seems like you were hiding it for other reasons."

She let out a short laugh. "What, that I'm a rebel? Or part of the faction? I smuggled for both sides—I needed the money and both armies paid well. The monarchy certainly never did anything for me, though I never thought the north should secede or the war was right." She sneered at him haughtily. "I was just trying to make sure my family stayed afloat in whatever situation the world threw us in. I had my reasons for what I did."

"Same as the reasons for joining the Selection, right?"

Dresden did have an answer to that one. She opened her mouth but closed it before saying anything, going back to scowling. "Are you going to send me home?"

"I don't know." He had the whole story now but was no closer to an answer. Sending her home for this but keeping others who had far worse misdeeds long since known by the public seemed wrong.

Dresden rolled her eyes, turning to look anywhere but him.

"I have one more question."

She didn't say anything back.

"Do you think we could make it? Do you feel anything for me? Like if I didn't send you home and this all ended, and I picked you and you became a princess and we got married? Do you think that could happen?"

He expected a rude enough remark to keep her out of trouble like she had spent all but the last week of the Selection making. She was quiet and motionless, letting his question hang in the air like she hadn't even heard him. He felt like an idiot asking now.

Finally, she turned to look at him, and she didn't look angry. "No, I don't." She looked kind of…sad. "I never did. I told you I was here for the money."

"You said you wanted to do something good." He thought of their only productive talk, out in the gardens on a winter afternoon.

Dresden shrugged. "I don't think that I can do that here anymore. Not after everything about me got to the media. Besides, you and I both know I'm not and will never be cut out to be a princess." She almost smiled at that. "And I miss my family."

"I'll see if I can give you a few more months of compensation," Wesley blurted out. It was a little sad—different than the other eliminations, partly because it was the first Elite, partly because there were so many possibilities he could have had with Dresden and they had all been shattered so quickly. "That son of a bitch governor of Columbia told my mom, I don't know how it got to the media, but it did."

"It doesn't really matter, does it?" Dresden said. She tripped over her next words, awkward and inept. "I hope you find someone, even though you probably already know how I feel about the Selection. But let's face it: you were never going to be happy with me."

They both smiled at that, and maybe this wasn't such a bad thing after all. They stood up and decided to part with a handshake, more Dresden's speed. He told her to take whatever she wanted from her room, including the awesome clothes she so loved. He wanted to invite her to the hypothetical wedding when this all ended, but the words stayed stuck in his throat. His heart jolted in his chest as he quickly pushed those thoughts away. He wasn't ready for that and eliminating the first of his Elite wasn't making it come any slower. How his brothers had done this whole stupid thing and ended up in perfect marriages, he had no idea.

The rest of his problems weighed heavily on his mind, and he was glad he had an excuse to skip dinner with the rest of his family and the Selected and palace household. Wesley did what he always did and avoided them. He would talk to Veyra after the Trials, he told himself. And Lillian. And Georgia and Vera, maybe, if they still needed it. Oh shit. Wesley decided to take it one step at a time and moved onto his date tonight and getting through the Trials first.

Wesley met Eleanor in the Great Room. The ballroom was empty of course, except for a table and chairs he had set up by the French doors leading out to the terrace, but he kind of liked it that way. The big room didn't get used enough, and he had a feeling Eleanor would like it. After all the work she had put in at the New Year's party, and how upset she had been that he didn't notice, he felt he owed it to her. Per his instructions in the note he had sent her, she arrived in an ethereal tulle dove-gray gown embellished with gold lacquer, something she easily could have worn to the party. He knew she liked to dress up, and he thought why the hell not.

"You're not inviting me here to send me home like you did Dresden, are you?" she asked, a bit coy.

Wesley smiled, pulling out her chair for her. "Nope. I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate all your hard work the other night."

"This certainly seems to cover it," she looked around appreciatively and the candlelit ballroom, which even in shadows, looked beautiful. She did too, and it made Wesley's stomach break out in butterflies. Lately, he had more and more feelings toward this girl, and they were starting to get hard to ignore. She wasn't involved in anything crazy, anything related to the war, or shy about her own emotions. Aside from the fact that she could be a little annoying, he found that he really enjoyed being with her. He sat down across from her and tried to soak it all in before everything went crazy. The Public Trials began tomorrow. He enjoyed his time with Eleanor as best he could but had to cut it short when he got the summons to another last-minute late-night Council meeting for some last few details.

So far, all those who would stand trial were cooperating, the Council had received word yesterday that the Berlins had arrived in the capital, in style and bringing all but the youngest of the family. After the north's surrender, a new government of Atlin backed by the monarchy had been instituted but their efforts continued to be thwarted by the leadership of the Berlin family. Unlike the actual leaders and officers of the two rebel armies, the Berlin's had backed everything financially and not been involved with the military aspect. That unofficial status had kept them sheltered in Atlin since the surrender, with the exception of Fallon. Three of them were standing trial in the coming days. Tristan Berlin, her grandfather, bore the reputation of being declared the head of the rebel's provisional government and remained the de facto ruler of the province. George Berlin, her uncle, had publicly paid for the army of Atlin, so he was on trial too. Fallon also had a half-brother from her mother's side, Conrad Berlin, who was a low-ranking lieutenant. There was no proof of the rest of them, really no reason for them to come south at all, unless they wanted to see Fallon, but there had been no official contact with the palace yet.

Many of the officers of both rebel armies had been paroled at the time of the surrender, along with all regular army, but there were exceptions. Along with Conrad Berlin, General Caine of the army of St. George had not cooperated and had refused to swear an oath of allegiance to the crown at the surrender, so he was still being held in the military base outside Angeles. Cody Trevelyne and several other officers who had not renounced their rebellion were on trial too. The army of Atlin had been commanded by General Hunter, who had died before the surrender. His replacement, General Shepherd, had cooperated and sworn the oath, so he had been released, though he was returning for trial. Back in the days before the war, the depths of the palace had held jail cells, but they had been torn down when the palace had been rebuilt after the royal family's exile. The few prisoners were in the Angeles military base, where the Public Trials would also be. Wesley knew he was required to be at the meeting, but most of the big stuff escaped him and he left the negotiations to the bigger players of the Council, to Colin and Andrew and Ethan. Usually, he was all for being involved, but honestly, the Public Trials scared him more than he cared to admit.

It was late when the meeting wrapped up, and despite Wesley's best attempts to get a good night's sleep, he reverted to his old habits and the usual stream of distorted nightmares woke him after only a few hours. It was before dawn, and normally this was when he would go sit on his balcony to smoke but he scowled at the thought of his resolutions and decided to go for a run to clear his head.

With the wind blowing off the ocean and the absence of sun and the already cool temperatures, he was freezing and miserable, wondering how he ever survived up north when fifty degrees did him in. he pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up over his ears in an attempt to restore feeling to them and headed back to the palace. The treadmill in the gym would have been a better choice.

It wasn't uncommon for him to meet Georgia out here early in the morning, but he was still surprised when he saw her on the terrace as he made his way back inside. Maybe he thought with all that was going on today she wouldn't make an appearance until later, maybe he was just stupid. She acknowledged him with a tilt of her head, her eyes tracking his movements. Unlike him, she didn't look cold. She never looked cold.

"Before you ask for a cigarette, you told me to hit you if you did," she reminded him, one eyebrow arching up slightly. "I left mine in my room anyway."

The cold-turkey quitting of cigarettes wasn't his best idea, he fully accepted that. The nicotine-addicted part of his brain short-circuited for a hot minute as he approached her, even though neither of them had any to fix the craving.

"Saving for later?"

"Something like that."

Wesley jogged up the stairs onto the terrace and stood next to her as they surveyed the slow creep of light over the grounds. Georgia was quiet.

"Today is going to be hard, isn't it?" he asked, hardly daring to break through the dam in his head where he stored everything that had happened and knowing that today would put a crack in that dam.

She nodded slowly. "Yep."

"And I don't even have to testify," he rambled on. "You have to get up there and answer questions and I'm just there to look pretty and because I'm on the Council. That's gotta suck."

"It's not like I was forced to do it," she looked sideways at him. "Everything I have to talk about was my choice." She looked back out over the gardens, her forehead creasing. "I was also given the choice to testify or not."

"If it was me, I think I would have run for the door," he laughed at his depreciating joke. "The easy way out, you know?"

A ghost of a smile flitted over her face. "I don't think so. You would too."

He didn't have anything to say, yet it felt wrong to leave. She hardly seemed to notice him, lost in her world. Wesley remembered the tense meeting of her and Lieutenant Trevelyne and his comments about Georgia's association with General Caine. There was no doubt that today she would be called upon to speak about his treason. And that couldn't be easy.

"Are you hungry?" he asked her. He swore she flinched slightly. "I know it's early, but the kitchen staff never mind me." In truth, his stomach was churning and his whole body felt too keyed up to eat, but in his experience, it was better to eat than not.

They both ended up in an empty corner of the kitchen, drinking more coffee than anything as they picked at their food. Wesley was grateful that someone knew he loved waffles and bacon enough to make them for him, but he could only manage a few bites. Georgia had gone for plain yogurt and spent most of the time stirring it around. Wesley found himself rambling along about everything that wasn't important, but it was better than thinking about what the day held for the two of them. He had always been scared of Georgia—okay, most of his Selected shut up—but right then, she seemed vulnerable. Just as nervous as him, dying for a cigarette like him, not wanting to revisit the past like him. She didn't say much, but he managed to get her to smile a few times with his dumb jokes.

When they had finished eating what they were going to eat, Georgia started looking around, impatient. Wesley seized his chance.

"You gonna be okay today?" he asked quickly. Her eyes turned on his, as usual, surrounded in dark eyeliner. "With General Caine and everything-"

Her expression hardened and she stood up to leave. "I'll be fine. I don't regret anything I did."

Wesley watched her leave, knowing as well as she did it was a lie.

He wasted time a little longer as he got ready, still feeling weird. He had talked to Dresden, and news of her elimination would break today. He just hoped the Public Trials would overshadow it—not likely because the three girls escorting him had similar sordid pasts. He had talked to Georgia and while he didn't feel better about them, he felt…kinda better. More honest in any case. Lillian and Veyra were the other two on his list, and since he wasn't particularly close to Lillian, he didn't feel too much pressure to speak with her. Veyra's strange behavior at the New Year's Eve party still bothered him, so he took Alyex's advice to heart, and as soon as he finished getting dressed found himself running down to the second floor. He had woken up early enough to not be late, but now he was going to cut it close. Oh well.

Veyra looked surprised to see him as she opened the door. Breakfast hadn't been served yet, and she was still in pajamas, a short robe open over her athletic shorts and an oversized t-shirt.

"Hi," she said, smoothing her messy hair back. "I wasn't expecting you…aren't you supposed to be leaving for the Trials?" she looked at the time on her phone. "You're gonna be late-"

Wesley didn't wait for her to finish. "Are we okay?"

"What?" Veyra looked surprised.

"You and me. Are we okay?" He leaned against her doorframe, feeling very awkward. His words trailed off. "Did I do something wrong? Because if I made you mad, can you tell me so I can apologize?"

Veyra looked at her feet, her usual carefree demeanor tensing up. "Is this about the other night?"

"I'm sorry if kissing you made you uncomfortable, I just thought since you already kissed me-"

"I wasn't upset about that," Veyra admitted, looking at him. Usually, they were always bantering and teasing each other, her sarcasm going easily with his bad sense of humor. Now, it was all weird. She sighed. "I just…I don't know." She started talking faster. "I really like you, but sometimes all this princess stuff is so beyond me. All that planning we had to do made me think that maybe I'm not cut out for this," she gestured vaguely at him, at everything. "I'm a secret agent, not a princess."

Wesley swallowed, her words thudding dully into his head. "Do you want to leave?" he forced out. His worst dream coming true all over again.

Veyra looked away again, black hair falling over her face so he couldn't see her eyes. He thought for certain he was going to throw up or pass out in the waiting. Which told him exactly how much he cared about her.

She looked back up. "I'm willing to try. For you."

As the relief melted in him, all Wesley was capable of doing was grinning like an idiot at her.

He leaned down to kiss her, not knowing what else to do but knowing that felt exactly right. Veyra giggled and pushed him back. "You're going to be late!"

He didn't care, not anymore. He hated feeling weird like he had but clearing that up made things a million times better. It was a relief, to be honest with her about his feelings and to have her complete honesty back. He left Veyra with some finger guns pointed in her direction before running back to the foyer, now for sure late. A nagging thought crept in his head that he hadn't completely told Veyra everything, and there were still parts of him that he hid from her that he shared with some of the others, like Vera. He didn't have too much time to dwell on it, thankfully. Everyone was waiting for him.

The Council was present, of course, and his brothers. Christine was there too, talking to Fallon, Georgia, and Vera. He noticed they looked like they belonged there, next to the queen. Even Vera, in her skinny black pants and a black blazer over a loose white shirt. It was a little more casual than Georgia's tweed skirt and jacket over a black turtleneck and Fallon's hunter green dress and tights, but there would always be news outlets that focused more on what they wore than what actually was going on. Wesley was surprised to see Lieutenant Jason Trevelyne lurking at the edge of the assembled group, looking uncomfortable. He found Nick, and somewhere between the nerves and the relief of the situation with Veyra managed to make a joke about how lucky he was to be Wesley's bodyguard, so he got to follow his girlfriend around. Elvira caught him and glared at him across the room. The ride over to the military base was short, most of it spent in Council business. They were the first to arrive for security reasons, though there was plenty of press gathered to catch them arriving.

Wesley wasn't in the same car as the three Selected, and he was glad of it when two of the reporters spied him and started yelling questions at him. Nick held Wesley's arm and forcefully steered him inside, fast enough to escape pictures and for Wesley to miss most of their questions as his bodyguard dragged him to the building. He caught some of it though.

"Your Highness, did you eliminate Lady Dresden for her involvement with the rebels?" one of them yelled, practically in his face.

"Based on this, is Lady Georgia going home as well? Why is Lady Fallon attending the Trials? Is she accused?"

Wesley kept his head down, glad for his sunglasses, and really glad he didn't have to answer. He realized that sending Dresden home right before the Trials was…not his best idea. Nick dragged him inside the building, shortly followed by the rest of their group and their security. He caught Vera looking at him, and as they headed in from the atrium to the room the event was held in, she caught up with him. She squeezed his hand, her hand warm and the soft vanilla smell of her perfume washing over him for a brief moment.

"You've been through worse," she reassured him in a whisper.

And she was right.

He squared his shoulders, and released a deep breath, ignoring the anxiety that clenched his stomach into knots. He could do this.