Wesley wasn't sure it was real until he saw the faces of his Selected. This was the second time they had all been rushed down here, though admittedly Wesley had been drunk during the last one when he had talked to Lissa in the tunnel hallway.

He couldn't believe it had all changed in a heartbeat. Half an hour ago, he had told Georgia it was over. It all fell back into place, the stress of the unknown, the panic lurking just behind his deep breaths, the utter terror of memories, and worse, his own imaginings.

It felt strange, seeing them in the same dresses they had just been wearing up at the reception, their hair a bit messier now. Some of the girls were crying and their makeup left little black smudges around their eyes. Fallon met his eyes, but Wesley quickly looked away, heading towards the makeshift Council meeting. Now that the palace was secured, they were allowed to gather together instead of the various heirs and Council members being stuffed into different rooms.

Georgia stopped him, intercepting him before he reached the others.

"What happened?" it came out like an accusation. "They're saying the military base, where the prisoners are, they're saying it blew up."

"I don't know, Georgia," Wesley for once wasn't intimidated by her glaring and her sharply furrowed eyebrows. There were other things to be scared of. "I'm trying to find that out."

"Wait," she stepped after him as he tried to leave, her hand on his elbow. "You might want to talk to Alyex. She's pretty upset."

Wesley paused. "Alyex?"

Georgia's eyes softened. "Yeah, Alyex." She nodded her head to where Alyex was by herself in a corner of the room. With Alyex's usual unflappable happiness and her constant support of Wesley, he was surprised she was upset by this. "She was crying," Georgia added.

Wesley looked over to where other Council members were assembling in a secure room off the main safe room. He looked back at Alyex, watching as she pressed her hands over her face.

"Thanks," he said to Georgia and headed toward Alyex. She wiped at her nose when she saw him approach, trying to get herself together.

"Hey," he said quietly, not expecting to see her like this. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, and then stopped and shook her head no. "Not really. I'm sorry I just—"

"No, it's okay!" he reassured her. It felt weird to not be on the receiving end of a mental breakdown, and it was weirder to see Alyex, who always seemed so strong, like this. She looked up at him, her eyes haunted by her time as a nurse in the war. She had no doubt seen even worse than he had.

He didn't know what else to do so he pulled Alyex into his chest, holding her as tightly as he could. He knew he wasn't the person to put her pieces back together, but that didn't mean he couldn't give her a hug. Besides, he had a feeling Alyex was going to put most of them back herself. She cried a little into his shoulder.

"I'm trying so hard to be okay right now... But I'm not."

"I know the feeling. My therapist says that's okay too. You're one of the strongest people I know, Alyex."

He wished he could stay longer, but Nick came to get him.

"Prince Wesley, the Council," he said. "They're waiting on you."

"It's going to be fine," he told Alyex, making sure not to promise anything. You never knew what to expect with the Berlins.

He headed to the secure room. He was the last, and Nick closed the door behind him. Like everyone outside, all of the Council had been present at the reception and were also still in their party clothes. Jason looked absolutely awful, shucking his jacket and visibly sweating even though it was cold down here. Elvira, Ben, Colin, Ethan, and Andrew were all gathered, along with who Wesley recognized as the palace head of security and several intelligence members. He hadn't even sat down before Andrew began.

"The Berlins are gone," he stated simply. "And they were behind the attack on the military base, as well as their penthouse in Angeles. Celinda and Oliver Berlin have been reported to be en route to Atlin, but most of air traffic control is down or unresponsive. The guards holding them in their apartments have been confirmed dead or their whereabouts unknown. There were untold causalities on the military base, where we were holding our remaining prisoners from the Public Trials," he hesitated. "General Caine is confirmed to be dead, while the whereabouts of Cody Trevelyne is unknown." He glanced at Jason. "We can confirm in initial reports that George and Tristan Berlin were released from their cells, and we can last pinpoint them alive. We assume they are with Celinda and Oliver. We also assume the younger members of the Berlin family still remain in Atlin, with the exception of Lady Fallon, of course. We never received reports of Conrad Berlin arriving following his trial and release, and his whereabouts are also unknown."

"Can we stop them? Do we know where they are?" Elvira asked, utterly calm. Wesley tried not to remember how she had almost died in the back of their car just a few short months ago.

"We have no idea where they are," Andrew said. "Nothing is working, we have been unable to communicate with air traffic control or any of the major airports or, well, much of anything really. It looks like a large portion of our communications has been breached as well."

"And we have no doubt this was the Berlins and not the faction?" Colin asked.

"They have claimed entire responsibility for everything. The Report is no longer broadcasting due to interference we believe is from them. There have been numerous reports of uprisings and chaos in Atlin, and they have broadcasted a list of demands…" he glanced down at his papers. "If they are met, they promise cooperation, and a full reintegration into the country."

He looked at Wesley then. "Number one is the marriage of Wesley and Lady Fallon, immediately ending the Selection. They also ask that Wesley be reinstated as third in line for the throne instead of my children. Because we broke our deal with them, they are pushing for Celinda to be immediately added to the Council, as well as the disintegration of our legislative powers, moving back to entirely monarchial. They ask for clemency for their family and promise to end the unrest in the north. If not, they threaten secession again and further actions are taken against us."

"We can't," Wesley stood up quickly from his chair. "We can't even consider this. It's ridiculous."

"I agree," Colin said. "I suspect the whole thing is bluffing. We should not comply, as we did before. Any deal made with the Berlin family is not a good one."

"We should move troops into Atlin immediately," Ethan suggested. "And deal with this insurrection divisively. We cannot allow this to happen again."

Wesley knew he was thinking of Mitch Levi's Yukon rebellion, the one that had left their father dead and members of Ethan's Selected killed.

Colin spoke up. "Ethan, I'm sorry, but we also signed that surrender agreement. We promised no more military action against all the northern provinces."

"They attacked us," Ethan reminded Colin. "They killed our prisoners; they attacked our base."

"You're both right," Elvira spoke up. "But we can't do either."

Wesley could only think of Fallon then as the meeting whirled around him, how she sobbed her heart out as he held her, how they had agreed to be friends, and the glimpses of a different girl he was starting to see now. She didn't deserve to just be a pawn like this.

"We have to stand up to them," he said. "They need to know they have no power."

"Last time we tried that, we fought a war," Andrew reminded him.

"And last time we made a deal with them, we broke it. I don't think they'll be so quick to keep their word this time, demands or no demands."

"Their actions are inexcusable," Elvira broke in. "But maybe their demands can be."

…

The meeting broke temporarily an hour later, though the palace remained on lockdown as long as their communications were. The tiny secure room was stuffy and though the tunnel and safe rooms were too, it was an improvement. The others had all settled down, the kids looked like they were asleep again, seemingly having been informed of the situation. Andrew and Colin left to record a message to the country informing them what was going on and what they had decided so far

Wesley located a bottle of water, watching Nick reunite with Elvira across the room and wondering if he would ever greet one of his Selected like that. He knew he had to join his brother and Colin soon, but first, he had to talk to someone. She found him first.

Fallon's sleeves covered up most of her arms, where she still held bandages from her self-inflicted injuries.

"It's my family, isn't it?" she asked. "I know it is. That's why you wouldn't look at me."

Wesley nodded slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, it is."

"Is it bad?" she looked up at him, eyes wide. "They didn't tell us much."

He nodded again.

"How many people have died because of them tonight?"

"At least forty," he said. "We are still checking identifications, and much of our systems are down. General Caine among them. The other prisoners have disappeared, including Cody and your uncle and grandfather."

"I don't think that was accidental. Caine must have known something," Fallon said. "What else?"

With a heavy sigh, Wesley explained the situation to her.

"They'll never stop at just marriage," Fallon said, shaking her head. "They would try to control you through me, they would try to put us in power. They would stop at nothing, even the lives of your brothers and their heirs. I am so sorry they have put you in this situation—"

"Don't apologize," he reached out to touch her arm and decided to pull her into a hug. "None of this is your fault."

She blinked back tears unsuccessfully as he held her at arm's length. "But it's my family."

"You're just as much of a victim here, Fallon. And I'm not going to marry you."

"You're not?"

"I'm going to eliminate you."

"What?" she gasped; her eyes wild with fear. "Wesley, please—"

"I'm going to make an official announcement once we get this sorted out. You're now the official stylist of the palace."

Fallon didn't say anything for a moment, her mouth dropping open. "That's…that's ridiculous!" she said, incredulous.

Despite himself, Wesley cracked a smile. "I know."

"They ask for marriage and power and you make me control your fashion?"

"Yep. We will not give in to their demands."

A slow smile crept over Fallon's face. "This is dangerous."

"We know. But they have to know they can't just do things like this. No matter what Fallon, you're staying here. You never have to go back to them."

She hugged him again this time, tentative and quick and awkward, but so very Fallon like.

"Thank you," she smiled through her tears. "Thank you, Wesley."

When Wesley returned from recording his announcement regarding Fallon in another area of the safe rooms, it was nearly three in the morning. He was greeted with the fact that he now actually had seven Selected. And subsequently pushed it from his mind.

"Everyone okay?" he asked quietly, sitting in the midst of them. They had grouped together on some of the seats in one corner. Veyra and Ophelia shared one, Iris and Alyex the other. They were half-asleep leaning on each other's shoulders with Veyra draping her legs over Ophelia's lap. Alyex looked okay now, and she made him smile when she flashed him his own trademark finger guns. Fallon had rejoined the group, sitting by herself, knees drawn up to her chest. Georgia and Eleanor both remained alert, as did Vera, who chose to sit on the floor, her hair a haphazard mess.

Eleanor smiled bravely at him. "We're fine. It was just a tiny bit scary not knowing what was going on." She had taken the pins out of her hair and now it fell softly around her face.

"Sorry about that. Tends to happen here," he attempted a weak joke. "Most of our communications went down. We've recorded a public broadcast; it's going to air on the hour." He checked his watch. "Any minute now."

"How long do we have to stay down here?" Iris asked. Her voice was thick like she had been crying earlier. Out of all the girls, she seemed to be taking this the worst, not used to it. Ophelia wasn't either, he knew, but she didn't show that she was upset.

He shrugged, wishing he knew what to say to comfort Iris. "Not sure. I've been told the palace isn't in any danger, but a lot of our systems went down. You'll see in the broadcast."

He caught Georgia looking at him, her gold-painted nails drumming on her thigh like she had been doing on her glass at the party. Somehow her lipstick was still immaculate. He nodded his head sideways at her in a summons.

"Georgia, if I could have a word?" he stood up and she joined him a few feet away, arms crossed.

"I figured you should know."

"What?" she snapped impatiently.

"We…we don't know where Cody is. We have no idea. There's no sign of him. But General Caine…he's dead. That's confirmed."

Her eyes snapped down. "But Cody…"

"There's no body if that's what you're asking. But it was a bomb, most of the place is, uh, incinerated."

She nodded stiffly and raised her head. "Okay. I appreciate you telling me." She was looking at something behind him, not meeting his eyes.

"I know you said they mean something to you…"

"I'd rather not discuss it if you don't mind."

"Sure."

She returned wordlessly to where she had been sitting earlier. And if he hadn't been staring, he might have missed it—so imperceptibly, she nodded her head to no one, eyes across the room. Wesley turned to look, but the only person near them was Jason Trevelyne, and he wasn't watching them.

"What did you tell her?"

Vera had replaced Georgia at his side so quickly he jumped. Her eyes were narrowed, and he remembered the last time they had talked, and she had stormed out. She didn't want to hear the Selection was his business and he wanted Fallon to stay. He also remembered kissing her on the stairs on Christmas Eve and telling each other everything was going to be fine, and nothing could hurt them anymore.

"General Caine was killed," he blurted. "I figured you should know too. We'll announce it on the broadcast, I just wanted her to know before so—"

She scoffed, cutting him off. In a hissing whisper, she accused him. "Why do you keep her here too? You can't possibly trust Georgia and if you do, you're even worse than I thought. She worked for them and I didn't go through everything I did just for it to all be worthless. She had to have something to do with this, those men she's connected to…" Vera shook her head in utter disgust.

"Vera—"

The broadcast starting saved him from knowing what to say to her. She stood next to him, simmering with palpable rage, as they watched.

Wesley always hated seeing himself recorded and he was glad Andrew and Colin had said the majority of the announcements regarding what had happened, the escape of the Berlins, and the status of their former prisoners. It was the definition of his last two brain cells when he saw himself appear on the screen and try to announce Fallon's elimination from the Selection and movement to the palace stylist as seriously as possible when the whole thing was so ridiculous.

Vera, inevitably, thought it was ridiculous as well.

"You can't be serious." She said as everyone turned to look at them.

"I am," he decided the best tactic would be to firm.

She flung her arm out at Fallon, who shrunk into her chair.

"Her family are traitors. They're going to destroy the country if you let them."

Wesley had had a chance to tell her about the deal, but it had already passed him by.

He really should have told her.

He pulled her out of the safe room and into the tunnels, bombarded with the memories of Lissa coming to make sure he was okay last time they were all down here.

"You need to send Fallon back to her family, they're the ones that did this!" she spat as he closed the door behind them and shutting out the rest of the broadcast. "The Berlins were contained, they were defeated, and now they are going to undo everything I fought for!" her eyes were wild as she stormed past him to the stairs where they had entered. "You can't just play games like this with and eliminate her so she can be your fashion designer."

"We're standing up to them, but we can't violate the terms of the surrender treaty—"

"I know those people were behind the Slaughter of St. George,"

"Where are you going?"

She didn't pay attention to him, just continued ranting. "That's why they had to kill General Caine. But no one knows where Trevelyne is when you have his brother here in the Council of all places! And Georgia is just waiting for a chance—" the guards at the door tried to stop her as yanked on the locked doors.

"Stop it, damn it, Vera." Wesley grabbed her and pulled her away as the guards assisted. She struggled at first but inevitably gave up. Wesley apologized to the guards and they hastily left.

"You trying to break out of the best security in the country?" he asked her.

"You had no idea this was happening," she fired back. "Why would they do this? They have no reason for doing this." Vera deflated, and it was so obvious she was missing part of the story. If only she would have come to the dinner with the Berlins if only he would have told her about it when she asked. He shouldn't have hidden this from her. He looked around to see if any guards were around but they were alone in the tunnel.

Wesley took a deep breath. "Yes, they do."

Vera halted. "What are you talking about?" her voice got quiet.

"We made a deal with them," Wesley shoved his hands in his pockets, turning away from Vera. "The night you skipped the reception…" he shrugged. "We double-crossed them. We had a deal, and we broke it on purpose. Conrad was supposed to go to the Council, and they got off free."

Vera's jaw tightened. She shoved him backward and Wesley stumbled. "When were you planning on telling me this?" she demanded.

Wesley couldn't look at her. He turned his head away. "Never," he admitted.

"Why not? Why wouldn't you?" she yelled her voice breaking, her trust breaking.

"Because…" Wesley held out his hands, not wanting to tell her the truth. He looked down at her, her eyes watery and red. "I wanted you to believe we had a damn chance."

Her face crumpled and all the fight left her then as she absorbed his words.

"I thought we could be okay," Wesley tried to explain. He reached for her, but she jerked away. "There was so much going on and I knew how upset you were. It was supposed to be over."

He had said that before. He suspected it wouldn't be the last time.

With tears in her eyes, Vera took his face in her hands and stood on her toes, pressing her lips to his. She kissed him once, twice, then pulled away, leaning her forehead against his chin, crying softly.

Wesley caught his breath, surprised. His heart pounded, but not in his chest, in his throat, in his lungs. Like it did when he felt like he was losing his mind. This time he wasn't sure he wanted it back. He reached for Vera, smoothing her hair, pulling her close. "What was that for?"

"I don't know," she mumbled into his chest. He tilted her head up to look at him. "I don't know," Vera repeated, this time crying.

He looked into her eyes, and she moved forward as he did and their lips met again. Wesley cupped her face in his hands, desperately trying to see if they could put each other's pieces back together. Vera locked her arms around his neck until she couldn't get any closer to him, the beading on her navy gown sharp even though the fabric of his clothes. Vera pushed the shoulders of his jacket back and he stopped long enough to detangle his arms from it before wrapping them around her waist. He didn't want to think about any of this, it was too much, it was all too much. Her fingers were scrabbling at the buttons on his shirt, and he ran his hands up and down her back, tracing the scars there, on her shoulders, revealed as the straps of her dress slipped out of place.

"Vera," he pulled back. "I—"

"I'm glad General Caine is dead," she was crying, and her mascara left tracks on her cheeks. Her mouth found his again and his hands were in her hair and she almost had his shirt off when they heard a door down the tunnel close and sprang apart as if they were forbidden lovers and not a prince and his Selected.

She looked at him, cheeks flushed and out of breath. She looked broken, sad, like he had seen her on her balcony the night after they had nearly died in downtown Angeles. There was no trace of the other Vera he knew, the one who dripped sarcasm and snark, who rebelled against the Selection, who refused to wear heels.

He still felt the chasm between them, unspoken from their fight, unresolved in a kiss.

"We should get back," he said, starting to button his shirt. She nodded after a moment, tugging at the bodice of her dress.

"They'll wonder where we are," he said lamely.

They didn't say anything as they returned to the safe room. The broadcast was over by then. Vera left him, and despite just making out with her, it felt strained between them. Georgia caught his eye as he walked by, and something on her face told him she didn't like what he had done with eliminating Fallon. He'd have to talk to her later.

There were few updates on the situation, other than they were expected to be given all-clear to return upstairs soon. The Berlins had likely landed in Atlin by now, but they had no confirmation on anything. His nicotine addiction itched annoyingly at his brain and Wesley greatly regretted his resolutions, not that he could do much about it down here. He found a seat that wasn't really anywhere near anyone, and settled down, wishing he could just become one with the couch. He leaned his head back, covertly watching the Selected out of the corner of his eye.

Vera didn't look at him, and he felt further from her than before kissing her in the tunnel. Everything had broken again, like he dropped something made of glass, just when he had taped the pieces back in place. Fallon looked more at ease, and he knew she would still be around the palace, but in the few weeks they had been friends, it terrified him to know she was eliminated. He didn't know if it was because he would miss her friendship or if he was more scared to get to the end of the Selection. He thought of Alyex trying her damnedest to be strong, or Georgia demanding answers from him, and it only made it so much worse. And worse of all, the Selection didn't really matter, not with everything else spinning out of control with the Berlins, their rule, the risky move they had made tonight, the things known and unknown.

And then he saw Lissa and for that brief moment, as she looked up and her eyes darted away immediately-it was all going to be okay. Except it wasn't.