Dedicated to me who wrote a similar chapter to part of this in Selected Twins because I miss her and she wrote so damn fast. And also to delovlies, mnbvcxz-xx, and Nameless for pretty much being my entire motivation. Work has been running me into the ground but thanks to all the writing vibes folklore has given me I now bring you another installment of a section of Heart that was supposed to be two chapters and is now like five?

-shades

…

Public Trials: Day 2

"You were amazing," Wesley said to Fallon as they climbed in the car, quick to avoid the barrage of press stationed outside the military base the Public Trials had been held in. Despite having spent the last several hours at a podium testifying against her family, Fallon smiled at him. It was a shaky smile, half-hidden as she ducked her head, but a smile, nonetheless. Even compared to yesterday, there was a color to her cheeks, a brightness to her eyes, a certainty about her; none of which had been there yesterday. Wesley didn't know if that was from knowing she was no longer in the pressures of the Selection (unofficially, of course), or from having confessed to him her darkest secrets, or from the events that had occurred today. Perhaps some combination of all three.

"I can't believe I did that," Fallon said as the car sped away from the military base with Fallon and Wesley inside. He ignored the feelings and not so nice memories that came with being in a car with another one of his Selected a few short months ago.

"Are you ready for the Convicting tomorrow?" he asked her. There were also bad memories there, last time they had had one of those at the palace during Ethan's Selection, it had ended with the early rebels infiltrating the palace. The Trials had concluded for the day, with tomorrow being the final day, where the verdicts would be announced along with a last-minute Convicting ceremony.

"I think so," Fallon replied, her fingers brushing over the bandages on her arms, where she had dug her nails into the skin last night in a panic attack in front of Wesley. She seemed tired, but like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. "If I could do what I did today…I can look pretty and say a few words tomorrow, right?"

Fallon had agreed to the testimony when he asked her this morning, and despite Wesley's predictions, she hadn't shied away from it. She was stronger than he gave her credit for, he had to admit. She had been one of several witnesses, and while she didn't know specifics, she knew details that led to the proof that the Berlins were also behind much of the initial secession movement, the near entirety of the rebel government, the funding of both rebel armies, and many of the orders carried about those armies. This had easily led to the arrest of George and Tristan Berlin, her grandfather and uncle, and launched an investigation by the crown into the actions of the entire Berlin family. Fallon's parents, Celinda and Oliver had escaped arrest for the time being, though were being detained in their Angeles penthouse for now. Fallon's half-sister Rachel had been granted permission to return to Atlin along with one of her brothers, Adrian, who had been a private in the rebel army and had escaped the Trials on the general parole granted to most rebel soldiers. Her other half-brother and an officer, Conrad, had not escaped the Trials, but his verdict would be announced tomorrow among the rest of the accused, a privilege Tristan and George would not be given. Wesley highly doubted it would be what Celinda Berlin had intended and negotiated with Andrew last night—a spot on the Council replacing Jason Trevelyne as the Secretary of Northern Affairs. He was lucky he was getting this chance at all.

Unlike the past Convicting's under their father King Jackson, they might get this one right for the third son. Instead of a blatant show of force of the monarchy's power, this Convicting was designed to be a blatant show of forgiveness, to pardon almost all of those who had been tried these past few days using the Selected to represent the monarchy. The only exceptions would be George and Tristan Berlin and General Caine. As long as the accused swore on oath of loyalty to the crown, they would be freed, and the country could go back to healing united. The Public Trials had been to appease the faction of mostly former soldiers for the crown, who believed the rebels deserved a far harsher punishment than the total reunion of Illea. Andrew and the Council had decided that this would be a show, but ultimately it would prove that they were not willing to be pushed around by a small group—even if they had almost killed Wesley and Vera in their protest. Wesley hadn't enjoyed that part too much, but he understood it all as a whole.

"That reminds me," Wesley said. "I have a present for you when we get back."

Actually, he had a lot of presents. A whole stack of jewelry boxes he had to give his remaining nine Selected. He had protested dramatically against this tradition, finding he felt weird and awkward about it (and that was probably due to the karma for making fun of brothers when they had had to do it). He had stayed up half the night talking to Fallon only to find out he had more thing on his to-do list. And when it came to picking out jewelry, he was hopeless. Luckily, he happened to have a whole army of Selection coordinators and Ethan's former Selected to help him. With their advice, he had picked hairpieces for everyone, with a necklace and either a bracelet or earrings, depending on who had pierced ears or not. No rings, that was the clear consensus from Gracie, who had, in fact, received a ring from Ethan during the Convicting and thought she was getting proposed to. The thought of one his Selected thinking the same thing had been enough to keep Wesley up for another hour planning dates and making lists of things he needed to certain girls before he fell asleep on his desk and woke up with a broken neck and a stress headache worse than most of his hangovers. He had drunk so much caffeine to get through today he was having heart palpitations. After he gave the girls their jewelry tonight, a sixteen-hour nap was in order.

He intended to talk more to Fallon as they drove home, see if she wanted to talk more about the darkness of her past or plan for her still kind of part of the Selection life- just to make sure she was okay—but he ended up waking up when the car rolled over from the paved road the gravel of the palace driveway. Fallon gave him a funny look as he jerked up from where his head was indented from the window. Oh yeah, his back was definitely now broken too.

"What?" she asked, eyebrows knitting together. "Nightmare?"

"Something like that," Wesley shook his head. For once it hadn't been garishly distorted flashbacks from the war, but worse-kissing his Selected. Ethan had told him he'd ended up kissing most of his Selected when giving them the Convicting jewelry. So far, the only girls he'd kissed were Veyra and Vera and both of those had left him wildly confused. Well, and accidentally Lissa but he tried not to think about that. At least he didn't have to worry about kissing Fallon. Or Alyex, come to think about it. Georgia probably wouldn't be at all thrilled if he tried so that took care of her. Eleanor, on the other hand, would probably kiss him. He wasn't sure about Iris, and he had a fairly good idea that Lillian wasn't his biggest fan. He didn't want to freak Veyra out any more than she already was, and he struggled to form coherent sentences just talking to Ophelia. Vera, though, with Vera, it might be okay.

He decided to call all of them together at once, that way there wouldn't be any kissing. Fortunately, the Council business on the Public Trials had mostly wrapped up, and everyone seemed way too tired to hold any more late-night meetings. Most of the Report footage and the news would be the Public Trials, but he agreed to have cameras record the gift-giving, to be a nice break from all the politics. He had the girls meet him after dinner in the Great Room which was halfway set up for the ceremony tomorrow. The thrones were set up along the west wall, alongside the stage in front of the half set up chairs. There were seats for the Selected on the raised platform. The room didn't need much decorations with the many chandeliers and the immense glass doors leading out onto the garden terrace. Like all the other Convictings, everything was white and gold, from the thrones to the chairs to the silk curtains. It had never seemed strange to Wesley before, but now the colors also held their symbolism as the rebel's chosen colors.

Fallon held back from the others, waving shyly at him. Georgia and Vera looked as tired as Wesley felt. He was glad that soon the Public Trials would be behind them.

"What are we doing here?" Veyra asked as they entered, her eyes going to the small camera crew for a second. "We all need to get our beauty sleep for tomorrow."

"Precisely," Wesley announced. "You all know about the Convicting, right? I mean my brothers have had them, so they've been on the Reports-"

"Yeah, and the last one the rebels attacked," Vera pointed out.

"Uh, yeah, hopefully, that won't happen again," Wesley said. "We've got tons of extra security and the guest list is more limited than in years past so…" Vera wasn't exactly being helpful. She probably wasn't entirely thrilled about the ceremony tomorrow.

"Well," he continued. "It's always been a rite of passage, you know, tradition and submission to the law and everything."

"Yeah, your mom gave us the spiel," Eleanor told him. "She made it very clear if one of us were unable to complete the ceremony we would be unable to be in line for the throne."

"I'm like seventh? In line for the throne at this point anyway," Wesley said. "So—"

"And also unable to marry you," Eleanor interrupted.

Wesley halted in mid-sentence. "Um, yeah…well this Selection is a little different and less about that and more about the Public Trials." He went onto explain the significance of the ceremony a little more. "It's not about a show of the king's power, its about healing the country. But there still is the tradition aspect. And in keeping with tradition," Wesley reached to the platform behind him where he had left all the boxes and attempted to gather them all up in one go. Unsuccessfully. "All the Selected get jewelry for the Convicting," Wesley began clumsily passing out boxes. He was glad he had decided to do it in a group, but whatever the circumstance, it still was awkward. He was beginning to feel that everything he did was awkward like he was slowly becoming Ethan. He missed the days when he had been an untouchable teenager and didn't second guess a single thing he did and just a little charm would smooth out any situation. Everything was so much harder when you were older. He was still charming though.

He stood like a clown in the center of the girls while they opened their boxes, embarrassed, and without any clue where to look as they exclaimed over their jewelry and eagerly showed it off to the girls they had grown close with. He quickly gravitated to Fallon and Alyex, who despite their friendzone of him, both got shy as he approached.

"These are so pretty," Alyex breathed, her smile wide across her face as she held the simple pendant of her diamond necklace in her palm. For hers he had gone simple, the cut of the jewel pretty enough to hang rather delicately on a silver chain. She also had a silver cuff bracelet, set with diamonds, and a hairpiece of a spray of impossibly tiny diamonds and pearls forming miniature flowers with gold leaves.

"You sure you like them?"

"I love them," Alyex reassured him, rolling her eyes slightly as his awkwardness.

Fallon peeked up at him from under her eyelashes, tracing the delicate metal of the soft rose-gold tones of the hairpiece, necklace, and bracelet he had picked out for her. She was the only girl who wasn't getting a necklace, but he thought she would like the smaller jewelry pieces more.

"Thank you, Wesley," she said quietly, a hesitant smile gracing her features. "I've…never had anyone give me such a nice present." They weren't quite to hugging though the situation called for it, so Wesley settled for patting her shoulder.

"I didn't know about the tiara," he said. He had picked one worn in the front like a tiara, suspiciously princessy. He didn't know what sort of statement he was making by giving it to the almost rebel-princess, but it was some sort of one.

"I love it," she said quietly, and when their eyes met, she didn't look away.

"Yours were the hardest to pick out. I was worried you would hate them," Wesley teased her and was rewarded with a smile for his efforts.

Alyex nudged him with her shoulder. "Stop talking to us and go get adored by the real competition."

Wesley didn't have much of a choice as Eleanor attacked him from behind, almost dropping her jewelry in the process.

"I love them!" she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck, draped over him sideways. She didn't have pierced ears, so her bracelet matched her necklace, both were made up of an abundance of small diamonds set with pale yellow gemstones, the pattern hinting at flowers. Her hairpiece was similar, to be worn in the back. "I've never seen anything so pretty!"

"You're welcome, Eleanor," Wesley chuckled as he stepped out of her embrace.

"My mom is going to freak when I send her a picture," Eleanor said, her words tumbling out in her enthusiasm. "Are these real?" she didn't wait for an answer. "I love them so much. It's going to work perfectly with my dress since it's strapless and-"

Wesley stopped listening as he noticed Lillian standing away from the others, holding her jewelry box but not taking anything out of it. Her frown was a stark contrast to the other girls. Maybe she didn't like hers. He had picked out the simplest things possible for her, knowing she didn't even wear much makeup—just a simple diamond stud earring and a gold pendant necklace, with a vine of pearls to wear on one side of her hair.

"Lillian?" he approached, leaving Eleanor showing off her things to Alyex. "Do you not like them?" The blonde looked up at him, startled. Her long hair was pulled back into a low ponytail and for some reason it made him think of the whole girl-next-door thing. "Because you can pick whatever—"

"No, it's okay," she said quickly, flashing an apologetic smile. "I like them. Thank you."

"I know you don't do much jewelry or anything," he explained, "and some of the other girls' stuff is way fancier."

"It's not that. I…need to talk to you about something," she hesitated, looking back down at her jewelry box. Wesley didn't like the sound of that, and his stomach tightened at her words. "I'm scared to do this. It doesn't feel right. The Convicting."

"Oh." He didn't know what else to say. "Well it's really just symbolic this time around, and it's an end to the Public Trials—"

"That's the thing," she stopped him, looking around to see if the others were listening. She shook her head. "I don't know what I mean. Thank you. These are stunning." She held up the box, a smile fixed on her face. He waited a beat for her to say something more, but she didn't.

"You're welcome…?" he finished lamely. "I, uh, I gotta go. See you tomorrow."

He beat a hasty retreat, eager to leave the scene of officially the worst conversation he ever had in his life behind. He spotted Iris and Ophelia together and remembered what he was going to tell them. He came up behind them and draped one arm around both girls.

"So I heard it on very good sources that you two have been named the two best-dressed ladies of the Selection," he said, not choosing to mention that that source was a fashion magazine he had been reading the Selection featurettes in his initial attempts to pick out the jewelry in the very early hours of the morning last night. "I got spoilers about what you guys were wearing though."

Iris's cheeks flushed as she looked up at him. With her love of straight lines and simple modern aesthetics, it was easy to pick out the gold choker necklace and bracelet, to match her all-white dress and pearl hairpiece. "It's perfect," she said, echoing Eleanor's earlier sentiments which basically confirmed that this whole debacle had been successful. "I love them!"

Ophelia's stuff was more advent-garde to match her gown, which he had seen pictures of last night. The white feathery appearance of the lower half of the skirt and lacy gold sleeves, bodice, and upper part of the skirt was dramatic and very-Ophelia, as was the jewelry. The earrings were large and dangly feathers made out of diamonds and gold-dusted pearls, matching the gold collar-necklace that resembled feathers as well. She stepped lightly out of his embrace and turned to face him. "These are exactly what I would have picked out for myself."

"You'll have to take them off during the ceremony," he reminded them. "But these are for you to keep. It's just something that happened during one of the Convicting's once, though it was scandalous. We thought we would bring it back for this one."

"I'm so nervous," Iris admitted, "this part of the Selection is always so beautiful, but out of my comfort zone. I remember your brother's, but I was more focused on what everyone wore."

"Yeah, Ethan's didn't end too good," Wesley shrugged off the past trauma. That alone had made him hesitant to do this ceremony, but he understood what it would symbolize. The whole point of his Selection was to heal the country, and this was just another part of that, he reminded himself.

"We've been watching the Public Trials in the Woman's Room," Ophelia said. "All that stuff is crazy."

"Georgia and Fallon were really brave," Iris added quietly. "I couldn't have done what they did."

"I'm sure you could have," Wesley assured her, remembering that she hadn't even been in Illea during the war. Sometimes it shocked him how different the lives of his Selected had been, not just from his own but from each other too. Iris had been living in Japan, Ophelia in Manhattan where the war barely touched, only seeing it on the television. Eleanor too had been far away physically though it had touched her family in the death of her father. On the other hand, Vera had fought and bled for the crown, and Georgia and Veyra had fought in their own ways too. Lillian and Alyex had been in the thick of it, though not much involved, whereas Fallon had been practically made a princess of the other side.

It was in no way a small world.

After he talked briefly to the others, his mom, Christine, and Nicole came to walk them through the ceremony in a rehearsal and the staff had to get back to work on preparations. Before he left, Wesley pulled Georgia to the side while she waited her turn to rehearse in the aisle of the set-up chairs for the guests.

"Hey," he said. "I just wanted to see if you liked your stuff."

She smiled a wry sort of smile at him. Her silver necklace was rather ostentatious, with the series of diamond rosettes dripping down it, as were the chandelier earrings. "They're gorgeous."

"I'm sure you had a lot of nicer presents in Yukon society," he snarked, wishing he could take back the words as soon as he said them. Honestly, he didn't know what possessed him to speak sometimes. He swallowed hard. "All those rebel officers and generals."

Georgia didn't seem offended, just her usual level of slightly annoyed. "I doubt any of that was real anyway. You didn't pull me aside just to ask about necklaces though, did you."

She didn't even ask it, just stated it like she could read minds. Wesley shook his head.

"No…I have to tell you something about tomorrow. I figured you could use a heads up."

"I'm intrigued," Georgia said, her tone suggesting that she was in fact, not intrigued.

"They—the Council wants you to Convict Cody Trevelyne tomorrow. He's getting that option, though General Caine is not. And you'll be offering him his freedom so it's not like Convictings in the past-"

"That's fine, Wesley," she cut off his babbling. "I assumed I might anyway, for maximum symbolism."

"For maximum symbolism," Wesley agreed, suddenly hating the way it all seemed like it was all fake and made up for the cameras. It was better now than when his father ran things, that was for sure, but still.

"Thank you for telling me though," Georgia said, her voice no longer holding its usual confidence. She started to turn away but paused. "It's real though, right? The Convicting? It's not just a show?"

"Yeah," Wesley said, surprised. "Of course, it's real."

She nodded tensely. "Good. It's just…weird. I knew them like I was what I pretended to be." Her eyes skittered away from his. "I know I'm doing the right thing," she hesitated like Lillian had earlier and he wondered if she would bite back her tongue as well. "It just seems like a betrayal sometimes."

"I can understand that, kinda," Wesley said. Georgia rarely spoke like a normal person to him, so he was unsure how exactly to react.

"It's brave what you and your brothers did," Georgia continued after a moment, brushing off her brief and not likely to be repeated opening up. "Crossing the Berlins like that."

"I also feel like it was stupid," Wesley said with a snort of a laugh. "Too easy."

"You could still make Conrad Berlin a part of the Council, at least. That might help a bit." Georgia suggested. "Him and Jason. Can't hurt to have more northerners."

He looked at her carefully, trying to figure out if he trusted her not. He decided he did, after all she had done at the Trials. "I guess," he shrugged. "I thought it would be somehow worse. I want to believe everything is over, but I don't know."

Georgia looked at him, and there was a gentleness about her—and pity. "Not everything has to end with alarms and safe rooms and people getting killed."

"Still don't trust the Berlins."

"Other than Fallon," she corrected him with a slight raise of an eyebrow, her gentleness replaced by a hard edge of something. "You could always marry her and all your Berlin problems would be behind you."

"And where would that leave you, Georgia?" he said before even thinking. "You would have to leave me in all my princely glory."

"All Selections end in marriage," she reminded him, leveling her gaze at him like a challenge. "I'd get over it."

He clutched at his chest and staggered back a step for good measure. "Ooh, you wound me Georgia, I shall never recover from that. You really must want me to marry Fallon."

Her voice dropped to almost a whisper and she leaned close to speak into his ear, laying one hand on his arm. He jumped slightly at the unexpected contact; she was so close her hair tickled his neck. "Just a suggestion." She brushed by him trailing her hand across his shoulders before he could reply, the barest hint of a smile on her face. He didn't have anything to say to that. Was this flirting? It felt a little like flirting. He felt his pulse pick up with the exhilaration of the realization.

Wesley didn't regain his dignity as he struggled to process what had just happened standing there like an idiot until Vera plunked herself down on the closest chair to him.

"So, what did I miss last night?" she declared, propping her feet on the chair in front of her.

"Huh? Oh…" Wesley shook himself back to the moment. "Aren't you supposed to be rehearsing right now?" he gestured to where the other girls were waiting their turns for ceremony practice.

Vera made her face, her nose wrinkling. "It's not that hard. I'm so bored." She was wearing the earrings he had given her already, the delicate chandelier silver and blue diamonds. While all the others had pretty much stayed in the realm of pearls, gold, diamonds, or silver to keep with the color scheme, he had seen those earrings and found they were the same shade of Vera's eyes and that was that.

"Why weren't you there last night?" he asked. "I missed you."

"Didn't feel like it," Vera replied. "Anything good happen?"

Wesley thought back to the tense discussion as they brokered the deal with the Berlins only to immediately break it today. They had all been the witnesses-everyone except Vera. And as much as he wanted to believe that today was the end of it, he already knew that it wasn't. The Berlin's wouldn't give up that easily. He knew (not so) deep-down that retaliation would happen, whether that was going to happen tomorrow or months from now. He thought of Vera, who was barely holding herself together like him. She claimed disinterest, but he could tell she had skipped the reception last night after the hardness of the Public Trials. He thought of holding her in the hallway as she broke down after hearing General Caine's testimony. He would spare her this one thing.

"We had fruit for dessert," Wesley grimaced. "You missed absolutely nothing."

…

Public Trials: Day 3: The Convicting

On the day of the Convicting, Wesley was very glad he didn't have much to do other than sit and watch. He had seen the girls all nervously waiting in a small room off the Great Room for purposes such as this, getting final touches on hair and makeup and they all looked stunning. Seeing them all decked out in white gave him a brief moment of wedding-related anxiety but once he remembered he didn't have much of a role in the ceremony, it calmed. He would have made an awful king. He was still sweating under his full military dress uniform as Andrew began the ceremony with a nice speech, he didn't hear much of and the guests applauded. Wesley exchanged a glance with Ethan, who also looked on edge for someone who was even less of a part of the proceedings than Wesley was. The last time they had done this had been…kind of terrible. One of Ethan's Selected, Sirena, had died. Wesley wiped his clammy hands on his knees and watched the entrance of his Selected, hoping and praying one of them wouldn't suffer the same fate.

They all looked gorgeous, of course. In white and gold, each of their gowns different and unique. They wore the jewelry he had given them, as well as many other various pieces for the ceremony. Iris's gown was all white, a skinny silhouette with long trailing sleeves, her eyeshadow, and jewelry providing the gold. Veyra's skirt was all gauzy, golden filigree covering the upper part of the gown. Ophelia's full-skirted feathery creation worked perfectly with the jewelry. Fallon's gown was white and gold jacquard, with long sleeves and a high neck, and Vera's was simpler, mostly heavy white silk with three-quarter length sleeves and a simple skirt decorated with gold embroidery on her torso. Unlike the other girls (and presumably the dress code) she wore her hair in a long loose braid instead of up and a smile tugged at Wesley's lips when he noticed. Lillian lacked her usual confidence, appearing nervous. The top part of her dress was gold material that kind of looked like leaves, the skirt flowing in layers of translucent tulle. Eleanor's looked more like a ball gown, made of pale gold brocade that left her shoulders bare and her skirt draped into a small train behind her. Alyex's was also a ball gown cut, strapless with a full skirt, though hers was made of white chiffon and covered with gold filigree that gradually tapered off as it traveled down her body. Georgia's was also mostly white, the top part made of a heavy fabric that fitted close to her body over her hips and hugged down the back of the dress, set with gold lace, with the front of the skirt a spill of layers of white organza, that glittered almost imperceptibly with gold specs.

The Great Room was silent, the atmosphere tense. Other than the usual occupants of the palace, no one knew that this Convicting was not going to be like the others, but a symbol of forgiveness and restoration of the country. Veyra was first and one of the higher-ranking captains was brought out, looking hopeless as he walked between two guards. Wesley caught Veyra's eye and winked at her as the captain of the guard announced the man. Her smile broadened, and then she turned back to the proceedings. Even though he was sitting behind everything, he could imagine it from the cameras, from the view of everyone watching across Illea.

Veyra's voice rang true as she addressed the man and read out his crimes. "You have been found guilty of your crimes. The crown extends its offer of forgiveness, and I will ask you, do you now renounce your loyalties to the rebellion and swear an oath to the crown?"

The man looked up, surprised. After a moment, he said he would and repeated the words after Veyra, who spoke them like a true princess. Wesley felt a warmth in his chest that he quickly recognized as pride, remembering how she had agreed to try this role she believed she was not suited for—for him. He watched as she removed her necklace and pressed it into the man's hand. "Go, faithful subject, and pay your debt to the king."

It took a moment for her words to register to the man, but after a moment, he complied, stunned. One by one, the accused were brought it, and with each one, a Selected would repeat the same process. Iris and Fallon were understandably nervous, their voices quiet. Eleanor and Ophelia handled it with ease, as did Georgia. Lillian was last for the first round, and she plucked anxiously at her skirt as she stepped forward, looking pale. She didn't look at Wesley, clearing her throat as she addressed the former rebel officer brought before her. When it came time for her to extend the offer of forgiveness, her voice faltered. Her eyes darted to the many cameras, and then to where Andrew and Christine were seated.

"I'm sorry—" she started. "I'm not doing this. It's not right."

All the other girls were staring at her, but Lillian ignored them. Her hands fluttered around the necklace she was supposed to give away in symbolism. "I won't just let all these traitors off the hook. I'm not a puppet for the crown to make everything look pretty and perfect when it was awful and wrong. I won't.

Whatever he was expecting, it wasn't that. Wesley was struck dumb—he had no idea what to say. He looked involuntarily at the camera crew, who were all exchanging looks. He could have told them to stop filming or pulled Lillian outside to talk, but his brain refused to do any of those things.

Lillian sounded like the faction.

And all of the sudden, it was his worst nightmare come back to haunt him—one of the Selected working for the rebels or whoever. The whole world had shifted since Ethan's Selection, but it didn't make much difference what they were called, there were still people who hated them and everything they were trying to do and-

He scanned the nine faces, looking for something, looking for someone. They barely registered. If Lillian tried anything, Nick and plenty of other guards would be there in a second, but his brain couldn't seem to understand that. His knees felt overstretched, stiff, and useless. His chest buzzed, disconnected from the rest of his body as the spike of fear threatened to take over, threatened to keep the breath of oxygen lodged in his lungs, so he couldn't breathe anything in anymore.

"I no longer wish to participate in the Selection if this is what it means," her voice came out defeated, and her eyes dragged away.

"Are you part of the faction?" The accusation came from Georgia, hand on her hip, eyes narrowed in Lillian's direction.

"I…no! I'm not part of the faction," Lillian replied, defensive. Wesley could tell she was intimidated by Georgia, and he was grateful for her backup. "But maybe I think they're right. My best friend died because of the rebels, and they shouldn't just be allowed to pretend like nothing happened!" Lillian exclaimed. "They don't deserve this forgiveness."

At this, Wesley came to the conclusion he was done being scared. Every time this happened, he was so useless, and nothing ever changed, and he was so sick of being like this. He thought of Georgia, who stared down rebel officers she had betrayed like it was practically nothing, who made people remember why they had fought this war in the first place if they said something she didn't like. She had ruined her whole life fighting for Illea.

He wanted to be like that.

He stood up. "Well, you certainly sound like it." He glanced at the cameras, already predicting the headlines for tomorrow over yet another spectacle. "Lady Lillian, if you wish to be eliminated from the Selection, there were other ways to go about it."

Lillian lowered her head. "I know," she whimpered miserably. "I'm sorry. But I can't do this."

Eleanor cleared her throat meaningfully behind him, reminding him of her point of the rules of the Convicting last night.

"The rules of the Convicting state that the ceremony must be completed to be eligible for the remainder of the Selection," Wesley said. It didn't matter too much at this point, but he was grateful for the reminder anyway, casting a grateful glance in Eleanor's direction as she carefully paved a way for this debacle to end.

Lillian nodded again, sniffing back tears now. She didn't say anything, just spread her skirts out and curtsied in his direction. She quickly removed her necklace and earrings, giving up on her hairpiece after a few tugs, and handed them to Wesley before running down the stage and back down the aisle they had come up. The doors to the Great Room opened and closed behind her loudly. Wesley remembered taking Lillian to the glass gazebo in the gardens at the beginning of all this, talking about everything and nothing, like it was the start of something. He doubted she would stick around long enough to say a proper goodbye. He would probably never see her again. It made him sad.

Wesley was supposed to be okay this year. And when things like this kept happening, he highly doubted it.

He looked back to the newly made group of eight ladies of the Selection and was surprised to be met with encouraging smiles and an overwhelming willingness to be here-well except Vera, but with her, he got it.

He still could be okay.

He nodded at the guards to resume the proceedings. They continued without a hitch, the ladies removing pieces of jewelry for each rebel. George and Tristan Berlin and General Caine were conspicuously absent, though there were plenty of other infamous names.

When Conrad Berlin was called up, and there was an audible stir in the Great Room. He fell to Fallon to convict and forgive, which Wesley had warned her about too and she had been fine with. Conrad Berlin barely held his lieutenants rank, but his last name gave him certain infamy, which was why he had been put on trial instead of paroled like most regular army. His family had spirited him away before he could be arrested after the war, yet he complied with everything else so far. All the others before him had sworn loyalty and accepted the offer of forgiveness, but if anyone would refuse, it would probably be Conrad.

"Lieutenant Berlin," Fallon began. "You have been charged with defiant and rebellious action against the crown, refusal to submit to imprisonment and trial, and refusal to swear an oath of loyalty to the crown. In addition to serving in the armies of the rebellion, you also refused to surrender arms at formal negotiations, and fled into hiding before you could be apprehended," she said, reading out the list. "Do you now renounce your loyalties to the rebellion and swear an oath to the crown?"

There was a moment of charged silence, then:

"I do," Conrad said. "I swear."

Fallon watched her half-brother with wide eyes, but then had him repeat the oath after her. A wave of relief washed over Wesley. Fallon removed her bracelet and held it out to him. He took it hesitantly, glancing at the guards like they were going to grab him like they had the other members of his family yesterday.

"Go, faithful subject, and pay your debt to the king," Fallon said. She smiled, just barely. Perhaps Conrad had been one of the few that had ever shown a broken girl kindness—he remembered how Fallon had said Conrad refused to kill Donavon, even when ordered too. He wasn't so different from the rest of the accused here today. Conrad Berlin may belong to a family of traitors, however, all things considered, his role in the army was minuscule. Maybe Georgia was right, maybe they could trust him.

It fell to Georgia to carry out the Convicting of Cody Trevelyne after Conrad was released. He was held on the same charges after being cleared of his crimes of leading the final attack on the first day of the Public Trials. His long blonde hair fell over his face as he allowed the guards to bring him before Georgia. His eyes scanned the crowd, not on the stage. Wesley saw them find Jason Trevelyne in the first row, and then Cody looked away again. During his trial, he had said he would never swear loyalty, and plead not guilty for doing what he believed was right. He would be the first to refuse the crown's offer of forgiveness if he did. Wesley hoped that wouldn't happen, at least for Georgia's sake. Her actions described during his trial weighed heavily on her, it was obvious. She stepped forward out of the line of the others, taking her place.

"Colonel Trevelyne, you have been charged with defiant and rebellious action against the crown, refusal to submit to imprisonment and trial, and refusal to swear an oath of loyalty to the crown. You have been cleared of your charges at the surrender negotiations following your trial in the defense that you were acting on orders."

Wesley rarely had ever seen Georgia be anything but perfectly in control of herself. This was one of the exceptions. Her wavering voice was accompanied by stumbling over her words and the heaviness of her dress seemed to pull her body down.

"You have been found guilty—"

Cody cut her off. "I am guilty of all of it. I wish to also be charged for my actions at the negotiations."

Georgia paused. "The crown extends its offer of forgiveness, and I ask you, will you renounce your loyalties to the rebellion and swear an oath to the crown?"

All was quiet as Cody waited a moment to reply, though Wesley could already guess at the answer. Cody didn't look at Georgia. "I do not," he finally said, his voice hard. "I acted according to my conscious and I will not repent of that."

Wesley heard Georgia swear quietly. Sitting with the rest of the Council, he saw Jason Trevelyne slump forward and put his head in his hands.

Andrew stood up from his throne, taking over the ceremony from Georgia. "If you refuse to renounce your treason," he said. "We have no choice but to have you arrested."

"So be it." Cody lowered his head.

Andrew nodded, then signaled the guards, barely perceptive, and the red-uniformed officers stepped forward. Andrew didn't want to do it, Wesley could tell. Cody Trevelyne had been given a choice, and this is what he had chosen.

"On account of your refusal to swear loyalty and your rejection of our forgiveness, I, Andrew Shreave, King of Illea, sentence you to prison for acts of treason against the crown."

The Great Room was restless, no one quite sure what to do or what to think. The guards handcuffed Cody, and he didn't resist, though he did recoil a bit as they pulled him to his feet.

Wesley had seen it coming, but it still shocked him that when offered his freedom this man would refuse. Georgia stood motionless, one earring in her hand, one earring that was supposed to pay Cody Trevelyne's debts. He went willingly out with the guards, not without a stir of booing from the audience. Last night, she had told Wesley about her guilt hanging over her for doing the right thing, for doing her job. He could see plainly on her face the fate of those who had gotten in her way affected her deeply. Her eyes met his briefly and he thought of how she had brushed very purposely past him last night, his speculation they were flirting. After all their early morning cryptic talks and her subtle questions of reassurance, how she stood up for him with Lillian, his continuing inability to trust her, but her constantly demonstrated loyalty for Illea and at the Public Trials…he realized he didn't know this girl at all.

Eleanor gracefully handled her turn next, startling Georgia back into the present with a gentle hand on her arm. She exuded elegance and charm like she was born for the role of a princess as she flawlessly carried out the next trial. Georgia rallied by her next turn and managed to carry it out, though, in comparison to the other girls, she was obviously rattled. Though it had its blights, the ceremony turned out to be beautiful. Cody was the only person not to accept the offer, and by the time it was over, Wesley felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

They brought General Caine out last, though not for forgiveness. Some wounds were just too big to heal overnight. He had agreed to speak anyway, seeming resigned to what had happened. His trial for treason would be revisited in a matter of years, once all the legal stuff happened. He apologized for his actions and spoke to anyone who still may support the rebellion, telling them it was over, that they should all work for a new and better Illea now. Andrew gave a statement on the Berlin's arrest due to their role in rebel government. Wesley managed to handle his one part of the ceremony by thanking the ladies of the Selection. He didn't much enjoy the hastily added speech announcing Lillian's elimination, but he got through it. No rebel attacks this time either.

It was a little chaotic as the ceremony ended. He watched the cameras shut down and said a few words of praise to the girls. He was about to excuse himself and go hide in his room from the inevitable next state event that would take place far too soon when Georgia stopped him.

"Wesley," she said, looking at him. Looking at him in a particularly uncomfortable but terribly exciting way that made his heart feel like it was beating in his throat and everything was happening too fast.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked quietly, stepping to the side. "You did great out there—"

"I need to talk to him—please. I need to talk to Cody."

"Oh," Wesley said, hesitating, unsure of the sudden feeling. It was jealousy, wasn't it?

"I don't know if I'll ever see him again," Georgia explained. She grasped his wrist, and Wesley stood dumbly there looking at her hand. "I just need to apologize. For what I did. Please."

"Yeah," Wesley said. "Yeah, of course. I'll get you there."

He decided to ask forgiveness later than permission now, not mentioning this to Andrew but heading directly to the cells under the palace. Now they were only used for things like the Convicting, where prisoners could be temporarily held before being moved. There wasn't anyone down here now, or any time really, just an assortment of guards. Wesley's tactic was to act casually rather than explain to anyone what they were doing, and it worked surprisingly well.

They passed the former General Caine being led down the hallway and while Wesley waved at the guards, Georgia paused. She glanced at Wesley and he knew she wanted to speak to him. He signaled the guards to stop.

General Caine looked a little confused to see them, but he stopped anyway, his face impassive.

Georgia met his eyes. "Jack," she said quietly.

Which was weird to Wesley, because he was always going to be General Caine in his mind.

"I wanted to say I'm sorry," Georgia began.

The man barely looked at her as he spoke, his eyes darting every which way. "You did what you had to."

"I know. I'm sor-"

"Don't be. It's war. Things happen, Georgia. You did what you had to do just like I did what I had to do. It's not your fault. We all knew if we failed, we gambled our lives. It's just lucky I'm being allowed to live. I'll take it."

She nodded but didn't seem convinced. The guards resumed their escort of him and Georgia didn't look back as they continued the other way. The hem of her white Convicting gown dragged along the floor, and Wesley was sure that her in her dress and him in his full-dress uniform made quite the pair.

Wesley had his own motives for coming with Georgia to Cody Trevelyne's cell. With the entirety of his record cleared and his parole at his fingertips, Cody had turned it down for a matter of pride, unable to swear loyalty to the monarchy. Wesley wanted to see what kind of man did that. He didn't look much older than Wesley, maybe even younger, though it was hard to tell with his unkempt hair. The man looked up, as they approached, but not at Wesley.

"Georgia," he said, jumping to his feet. Next to Wesley, Georgia slowed to a stop.

"Captain Trevelyne," she said evenly, fixing him with her eyes like a cat, a look Wesley was familiar with.

Cody Trevelyne cleared his throat. "Colonel now," he reminded her, though Wesley had the feeling she didn't need reminding at all. "Or at least I used to be," he admitted, mumbling a little. "I don't know why they keep using our rankings."

"It's out of respect," Wesley said to them, though neither of them responded to him, the air thick with tension. Cody looked at Georgia like she was still the poster girl of the rebels, still the rumored confidante of his general, still the darling of rebel society. He spoke to her like he was still the fearless and patriotic captain who was fighting for his morals, not someone who had just condemned himself to prison.

Georgia looked away first. "You should have sworn the oath, Colonel," her voice sounded strained. "They would have let you go."

"Like they let my brother go?" Cody asked, leaning against the bars of his cell. "Or you?" At this, Georgia pursed her lips and glared at him.

"I'm here by my free will-" she started to say, but Cody cut her off.

"Chained to a post and never able to be free? Stuck down here in Angeles? No thanks."

Georgia scoffed, and looked pointedly around them. "Like a prison cell?"

"I'd rather be in a prison cell than a traitor like you." His voice was completely calm. "It was no surprise you turned me in."

Georgia flinched slightly at his words. "I was never a traitor."

Cody Trevelyne's eyes slid over Wesley and he nodded in his direction. "Not to them, maybe."

Wesley didn't know what they were talking about, but he would have liked very much to. They both seemed to remember he was there and looked simultaneously at him.

"My brother must have gotten you to do what you did to Caine," Cody said after a moment, his words chosen carefully.

"I don't regret anything I did," she said, repeating what she had told Wesley before. It still didn't sound like she believed it. She hesitated for a moment, her eyes flickering to Wesley and then back to Cody. Wesley hated that he was here, but he still hadn't summoned up the intelligence to excuse himself. It felt private and something he didn't understand, something more that he didn't know about.

"Why did you do it?" Cody asked her, ignoring Wesley. He wanted to disappear almost as much as he wanted to know what was going on.

Georgia lifted her chin a fraction of an inch, her brown eyes dark. "You know why."

That's when Wesley guessed there was something between them, something more than just a rebel, and the woman everyone said was a hero who that rebel knew as a traitor. Something Wesley could only relate to with one other woman, someone he had known in another life.

"Goodbye, Colonel Trevelyne," Georgia said tensely after Cody didn't say anything more. "I doubt we shall meet again."

He looked up, but Georgia had already started walking away. Wesley met Cody's gaze and smiled more of a grimace than anything.

"She told me she wanted to apologize, mate," Wesley said. He wanted to tell Cody he was an idiot for not taking his freedom, but that seemed a little too much so he just left. He had to jog to catch up with Georgia, even in her high heels she made good time

"What the heck was that all about? You said you wanted to say you were sorry."

"You should let his brother talk to him," Georgia said, her words clipped. "They're very close."

"Sounds like you were close to him too."

She laughed, and he thought it might be the first time he had heard her do so. "Let's get out of here. I need a cigarette and you look like you could use one too."

"I quit, remember?"

"I won't tell anyone."

They ended up outside, away from the main part of the palace, in a place that looked more frequently used by guards than the royal family. It was sunny outside, but still just a bit cool to be outside without coats. Georgia undid her hair as soon as they stepped outside, shaking out her golden blonde hair and running her hands through it until she calmed down enough to face him. He didn't think she was even capable of being this rattled.

"Hey look, you can see the stables from here," Wesley pointed, trying to distract her. She looked at him, eyes somewhat glazed. When her gaze lingered, he was tempted to make a lame excuse and flee immediately but when she offered him a cigarette (how the heck did she have them hidden in her dress) he stayed. He knew when someone didn't want to be alone.

"So, you and Colonel Trevelyne. Was that like a thing?" he asked after they had lit their cigarettes and she looked calmer.

Georgia half-smirked. "A thing?" she considered this. "Like you and Lissa Dove were a thing?"

"Hey!" Wesley said. "How did you know about that?"

"I was alive during Prince Ethan's Selection; I saw the Reports. It was obvious. And I saw how you looked at her when I first got here."

He looked guiltily down at his cigarette. "That feels like another life."

"Tell me about it," she agreed under her breath, dropping her arm to her side, and exhaling a plume of smoke.

"You never answered my question." Suddenly he had to know. Somewhere in between the flirting yesterday and her unraveling in front of him today and all the other little things. "Did you love him or something?"

She looked at him, surprised. For the first time, he had caught Georgia off-guard, not the other way around. Her lips parted, and she took her time answering, her fingers drumming along her cigarette.

"I don't know. Maybe." She might have smiled, looking off in the distance. "It was another life. I was another person. It was all so exciting, in those early days. I was supposed to get close to General Caine, not him. But Cody went everywhere with him and I always saw him. Back then, he was always flirting with me. He couldn't stand it I didn't adore him. He's just like that. Somewhere along the way…I guess it happened." Her voice trailed off, and Wesley thought of Lissa, of being sixteen, of the beach and…

"He didn't find out that I was a lie until Jason caught me and told Cody after they refused to surrender." Georgia skipped to the end. "They knew I had already told my contact about their final attack. Cody outed me to General Caine and my parents and half of Yukon society, and I lost my cover. And then he went anyway." She was silent. "I thought he was dead until the Public Trials were announced."

"So what did you do? What he asked you why I mean."

Her eyes slid over to him and she smiled, almost. "You have a terrible habit of eavesdropping."

"I'm aware."

"I told the truth." She let her arms drop to her sides in a shrug. "That's what I did. He had his freedom right in front of him, and he didn't take it."

"I'm really sorry, Georgia."

She looked at him like she had forgotten he was there. "Don't be. It's not your fault. It's his."

Wesley finished his cigarette and frowned, thinking of his New Year's resolutions. Oh well.

"Thanks for what you did back there, with Lillian," he said. "I didn't see that coming at all…I should have but I didn't."

"I didn't either. She shouldn't have done it like that," she shook her head. "it was nothing."

"It wasn't nothing," Wesley corrected. "You stood up for me, and for Illea. I won't forget that."

She smiled a tattered smile. "You're welcome. And thank you for getting me in to see him."

"You didn't apologize," Wesley told her.

Georgia pressed her lips together, nodding. "I know."

Wesley pulled his suit jacket tighter against the cool temperatures, scuffing his foot along the ground. "We should get back."

"You go ahead. I—" she turned her head, rubbing her temple. "I need a moment."

It looked like she might be trying not to cry to Wesley. He also knew when someone did want to be alone. "Yeah. Of course. I'll wait for you upstairs."

…

She only had a few minutes, Georgia knew as she walked back the paths they had just departed before Wesley would get suspicious. She supposed it didn't matter in the grand scheme of things whether or not she had an old lover who was now in prison—but it mattered to her. Cody looked up when she stood in front of his cell, still sitting on the bed where she had left him with the promise of never seeing each other again. She felt ridiculous still in her Convicting gown. He looked at her through his hair, long enough to cover his eyes now, so different than when it was short, from the nights of the midnight sun in Sitka, in Yukon. When they had been stupid and in love and had no idea the lies they told and secrets they kept would pull them apart. Before she had been careless and Jason had caught her and told Cody after she begged him not to, thinking crazily there was some world where she could love someone when she was entirely a lie. Before Cody had stabbed her in the back just like she had stabbed him, blowing her cover to everyone she knew.

He didn't say anything now, just looked at her, calm, like he knew all along she would come back. Last time they had faced each other like this, alone, everything had been so different. She didn't know this man, she realized. She knew him, standing under the moon, giving her his uniform jacket, his breath condensation in the cold air. She knew him staring at her across the room at receptions held for the rebel officers, no matter who they were talking to. She knew him standing under her bedroom window silhouetted by moonlight. She knew him looking at her until she asked him why, to which he would reply "nothing", every time. The man sitting in the cell, the memory of his words still pierced into her soul, this man she didn't know.

She stared at Cody and he stared right back. Georgia took a step closer, to ask him the question she came here to find out the answer to. "What did they do to you?"

He shrugged and she thought he might refuse to talk to her before he spoke. "Nothing."

The simple answer reminded her so much of the other world they had briefly lived in together that it hurt, it hurt in her chest, and it hurt to look at him, and it hurt to see how he looked at her.

"Then why are you acting like this?" she demanded, raising her voice. Georgia didn't have time for his excuses. "Dammit, Cody you had your freedom right in front of you—"

"I told you not to do this for me," Cody cut her off, shouting her down. He shot to his feet, stalking to the bars in front of his cell. "I told Jason and I told you. So why didn't you listen?"

"I didn't think you meant it." She threw back in his face.

The lies, the secrets, the plans…all of it for nothing. Everything she had done for him, and it didn't matter.

The energy seemed to drain out of the room and left only the echoes of their shouting as they stared at each other, neither willing to break first. It was Cody who did, looking down for a second, and then back at her. Georgia swallowed hard and then stepped closer. Her hands reached through the bars, finding his. When she touched him, he didn't pull away, and she allowed herself one tiny, tiny spark of hope. When she was brave enough to look up, she found his eyes already on hers.

"They would have let you go," she whispered.

"Where?"

Georgia thought of Sitka, of going back. Was there anything left for them now? Was it even still there? Sometimes she doubted if anything had ever happened, or if it had all been one beautiful nightmare full of lies that she never seemed to stop telling. She closed her eyes.

"Home."

"You trust these people," Cody pulled his hands away from her, his disgust evident. "They're liars. Why would you believe a word they say?"

"I trust them because I am one of them." Cody stared at her, searching her face and Georgia flinched under the scrutiny. "I thought you were dead," she said softly. "And when I heard you were going to be at the Public Trials, that you were alive, but that I had to testify against you…" she shook her head. "I did what I had to do. I guess I have always been one of them."

"You were always more than that to me, Georgia," Cody said. His hands started to move towards hers but stopped short. "That's why I didn't take the offer. Because of you."

The words stung. More than they had a right to. She turned her back to him, pushing back her hair, pushing back her stupid tears, the cold iron bars pressing into her back. She had come here to find this out, but she didn't want to hear any more now.

"I asked you not to do what you did for me, and I wish…" Cody continued, his voice soft, gentle. None of the cold disassociation he had when on trial or his earlier anger. "I wish that you hadn't."

She heard him move away, but then he paused. Then she felt his hand on her shoulder, his breath on her neck. "But I would do the same for you."

She couldn't stay one second longer.

She found Wesley waiting in the Main Hall for her, his hair sticking up funny like it usually was. He smiled awkwardly at her, his gray eyes soft and full of pain but earnest, full of hope and goodness.

She wanted to be like that.

He might tell her it wasn't her fault, that he still wanted her to be part of the Selection if he knew the truth. Or it might break his heart and he might hate her for it. Which was why he was never going to find out.