CHAPTER 32

Princess Carolynn Schreave

Thursday, the 23rd of January

I could tell all the selected were nervous. Some were better at hiding it than others, Nishav in particular, since he was looking at his laptop boredly. His face might be one of complete disregard, but I could tell from the rhythmic clicking and the way his eyes scanned the screen he was practicing his presentation about whatever it was that he actually cared about. If I had to guess something to do with arts programs in schools. Or maybe laws to not exploit children. Knowing him it could go either way.

On the other end of the spectrum, Divesh was bouncing his leg up and down so quickly I was debating sending him to the doctor to get something for muscle spasms.

The rest fell somewhere in between.

Bunch of wimps I think before I can stop myself. If they intend on marrying me they have to be used to appearing on television. I wouldn't be nervous about this. I haven't been nervous in years.

Maybe I'm being a bit too harsh on them. For most, this is their first time alone in front of the camera, except for the ones who had a birthday and an interview with Lindsay. I suppose they have a right to be slightly nervous, but this all seems like a tad bit much for a simple philanthropy project.

And besides, it wasn't even being filmed live.

I know that's more to protect the image of the palace and stop the selected from saying anything that would go against the monarchy (Someone learned from historical precedent), but they should at least see that as an advantage to them. They could retake it as many times as they wanted.

So yeah, maybe they were a bunch of wimps.

But they were my wimps, so I could attempt to be supportive about this. Good thing I'm a pretty amazing actress if I do say so myself.

"Is everyone ready?" Dad asks, counting the selected off on his fingers. They all nod their consent. "Great, if everyone could take a seat please, we can begin."

I go to sit next to Dad, elbowing him to get his attention, "Is Mom coming?"

"I don't think so," he answers. "Something came up with one of the automobile producers and she's in a meeting with them."

"Oh." I say, not bothering to hide my disappointment.

"I'm sure she'll be done before lunch," Dad supplies, "I don't really think things like this are her cup of tea anyway."

"What are you talking about? Mom loves to watch people squirm."

"Yeah. She does." Dad stands up, switching to talking to the room at large, "We're going to be going in alphabetical order. Divesh, you're up first. Followed by Nathaniel, Nishav, Nyson, and then Sebastian is last."

"I think I should go first," Bas protests jokingly. "Everyone thinks my name starts with a B anyway."

"We'll see about that, Bas." Dad chuckles lightly before looking back down at his clipboard. "Divesh when you're ready, we can begin. We have a projector set up for you, so if you load in your powerpoint you should be set. Is there anything else you need?"

"No...I don't think so, Your Majesty." Divesh says quickly, twisting the sleeve of his suit jacket over and over again. You almost need to feel bad for him. He'll be fine though. I know he will. Once you get in front of the camera it's never as bad as it seems. Or at least that's what I've been told. I've never been nervous enough to actually notice if there's a difference.

"Great," Dad says. I flash Divesh a thumbs up and Divesh smiles, plugging his laptop into the stand.

"Okay," Divesh breathes, "Can I start...oh the camera's already on. I'll just...can we cut this out?" Divesh asks nervously, turning his attention to my dad.

"We can start over." Dad assures him. This time, the person operating the camera gives Divesh a countdown to begin.

"Hi everyone. My name is Divesh, and I've been working on a way to further the… resources available for someone going to a university." Divesh clicks something on the controller he's clenching in his left hand, switching the slide.

"Many people who want to go to college don't know about the practice needed to pass tests, especially for specific professions like medical school."

"Dad, Dad, Dad," I whisper, trying to get his attention.

"Carrie, they're filming right now," He whispers back, his voice lower than mine.

"I know, but this is important."

"What is it?" Dad asks, looking concerned.

"Didn't you go to medical school?" I ask, remembering someone mentioning it once or twice. Or maybe that was Aunt Quinn. Or maybe it was mechanical school.

I really need to pay more attention to things even if they don't have anything to do with me.

"I did, but I didn't finish."

"Why not?" I ask, making sure to keep my voice quiet enough that it wouldn't be picked up by the sound booth.

"The selection. I couldn't exactly be a doctor and be the Prince Consort. Life is full of sacrifices."

"Oh." That's awfully sad. "Do you wish you could be a doctor?"

"No, not particularly. I just did it because my entire family were doctors. I figured I might as well. I'm much happier with this life." He answers, squeezing my shoulder.

Hm. That's true.

"Yeah. I guess you're right. Everyone would be happier being royalty."

"That's not what I meant-" Dad starts but I cut him off.

"I was silly for thinking that some of these guys would be happier at home. I mean, who wouldn't want to live in a palace and be a Prince and do whatever it is that you do. Not even Nathaniel would be happier in Clermont and he loves boats-

"Carrie, I think you're misunderstanding me."

"No, no no no. I understand you perfectly." I interject. I know my voice is getting a bit loud for a recording room, and I don't want to distract Divesh, because I don't think I can listen to him stumble through his introduction for a third time. Quieter this time, I say "Of course everyone would be happier here. Thanks Dad. You always know what to say."

"No, Carrie, this isn't a good way of-"

"Shhhh," I shush. "I'm trying to listen."

Making a show of turning my head, I tune back into Divesh's presentation where he's wrapping it up, looking a lot less green than what he started. "So, I believe that this idea would...benefit the country and I hope you like it. Thank you for your time," he concludes.

"Great," Dad says. "That was really well done, Divesh. You can sit back down if you want to listen to the rest of the presentations."

Divesh nods, and I catch his wrist as he walks back to his seat. "Hey, you don't look so good."

"I'm fine. Really. I'm good."

"Do you want to go get some fresh air?" I ask, legitimately concerned. "You can go sit in the garden. I'll come meet you after."

"Oh...um sure. Yeah. That sounds good. Thanks." Divesh stammers. I pat his back as he moves towards the door.

"Maybe you should go with him," Dad says to me.

"Why? I want to hear all these presentations."

"I think he gets nervous pretty easily. He would probably appreciate having someone to talk to."

"Do I look like a therapist? I'll go talk to him later. He's fine." I say, rolling my eyes. "Don't be ridiculous Dad."

"O...okay. Nathaniel," Dad says, turning towards the group. "If you're ready...Ocean pollution right?" Dad asks, checking something on his clipboard.

"Yeah," Nathaniel answers, not looking half as nervous as Divesh. On the contrary he looks so calm I wonder if he's feeling okay too. Of course he is. Who am I kidding, he wouldn't be able to hide it this well. He just obviously doesn't get nervous. Not a bad quality for a Prince Consort. Not that I care about that type of stuff...but it's always helpful I guess.

Nathaniel's presentation is much smoother than Divesh's. He starts off calmly, introducing himself to his country, and the slideshow is certainly… something. It's not bad so to speak. He obviously took care in putting it together. It wasn't the type of thing he put together the night before, like I'm sure that at least one of the guys did. If I wasn't a Princess, with all the expectations, I wouldn't bother preparing all this in advance.

No. Nathaniel worked maybe a bit too hard on his. It's a bit too personal for the world of international government. There are even some photos he took himself, on what's obviously a disposable camera that seemed to be only slightly water-proof. I don't think Dad saw the presentations ahead of time, because I doubt he would have approved this. I certainly wouldn't have.

Still, it's a good presentation. And the preposition he puts forth is a good one. He wants to start school-sponsored cleanups on coastlines. There are a few clear flaws, such as that not all of the provinces border a body of water, but it's good. It's feasible. It's cheap. It's the type of thing that might actually work, which is something to be proud of, I guess.

Not to insult him when he's not even here, but it's better than Divesh's presentation by a long shot.

After Nathaniel comes Nishav, who starts off by saying, "I'm not using a projector."

"Right, Nishav, we have an easel to the left for you to put your chart. If you need to switch it at any time, just let us know so we can edit the video."

"I suppose that struggling with a piece of cardboard is not a good look for television?" Nishav asks, not sounding like he particularly cares. He's doing a good job of hiding his nerves, but unlike Nathaniel, I can tell that they're there.

"Not really."

Nishav picks up the easel, depositing it on the desk in front of him, before having Nyson pass him a few poster boards that he must have brought with him. Huh. I didn't even notice.

"Today, I want to address a glaring problem that I've noticed in my youth. One that many, if not all children deal with when their parents don't know what to do. The poison ivy growth in many public parks."

Oh. That wasn't what I was expecting.

Not to stereotype people, but with all of Nishav's childhood troubles and angst, I thought that this would be easier for him than people like Bas or Divesh. He wouldn't even have to think about it. Talk about child labor laws or something dumb like that, slap on a few pretty anecdotes, and ta da. That's it.

But he went with poison ivy.

Not to say it's an unimportant issue but…

Poison. Ivy.

Come on. That's really, really, really minuscule in the grand scheme of things.

"Why did he want to talk about this?" I whisper to Dad.

He shrugs, "I'm not sure. He didn't tell me. I'd assume that he got poison ivy as a child or something along those lines."

"I guess."

Nishav's presentation, despite being completely out of left field and about something wholly irrelevant, is great. No, great isn't the right word. I don't know what the right word is exactly, but something better than great. The poster boards he uses show up close photos of how poison ivy affects the skin, and another shows the proper technique to get rid of it. Apparently that involves a pair of hideous yellow gloves.

It's short, sweet, and straight to the point. He clearly knows what he's doing, and judging by the way his eyes flicker to the clock on the back wall, he has it planned out to the second. I clap my hands together a few times when he finishes. He deserves it. I might not care about the topic at hand, but there's no denying that he did an amazing job.

"I really liked that." I pipe up.

"You...you did?" Nishav asks, looking surprised as he collects his papers.

"Yeah. I thought it was good. You knew what you were doing."

Nishav nods, "Thank you, Your Highness."

Nishav, like Nathaniel, elects to stay and watch the rest of the presentation. Nyson looks appropriately nervous as he loads his slideshow, though he looks put together enough to pull off the presentation.

Whoopee.

Nyson's is about the educational system, more specifically about suspensions and how unfair they are. I have to say I agree with him. The amount of times that Garnet has been caught cheating (Which I guarantee is far less than the actual amount of times he cheated) must be worthy of at least a suspension or two. Maybe I should email his principal about that.

Nah. He would kill me.

And then who would I have to force to do things I don't want to?

"The imbalances with the public school system have mostly to do with the fact that each district has their own code, rather than a nation-wide one." Nyson starts, speaking each word slowly and clearly, probably due to Pearl's training. That woman might be one of the most insufferable people I've ever met, but there's no doubt that she's at least an okay teacher. I guess Dad didn't pick such a bad one after all,

Nyson shuffles the cards in his hand, "I think that there should be one set of rules that apply to all schools," he says, his words much less formal than his first sentence. He probably spent at least an hour writing those twenty-six words.

He continues to give a vague outline of the levels of infractions in the schools, what the consequences would be, and stuff like that. It's not a bad idea, I'll give him that, but there's no way it would work in practice.

For one, private schools would never listen to us, and it would take much more legislation and arguing than I'm willing to take to enact it.

And also...it doesn't really matter. Aside from the odd case here and there, most suspensions are fairly standard. It's not as big of a deal as he's making it out to be, and clearly he knows it since he doesn't cite any actual numbers.

My best guess is that he's speaking out of some own grievance against his school then what he believes to be an actual issue. Which is good that he wants to fix it for other people...but as the saying goes, you don't have to fix what's not broken.

And...let's be real here, the public school system is not broken.

Nyson finishes with his face flushed, but looking pleased with himself. I guess he didn't botch it up too badly. That's something he should be proud of.

Bas is the last one to go up, and Dad turns to me before he starts, "I think his is among the best. He has a great idea."

"Really?" I ask, starting to get bored. "What's it about?"

"You'll see. I don't want to spoil it for him."

That piques my interest slightly and I straighten up in my seat before Bas starts. He doesn't look too nervous, more a combination of fear and excitement.

"What most people, outside of close friends of my family, probably don't know, is that I was adopted. I grew up in poverty, then I ended up in a homeless shelter. I was scared, but my life ended up so much better off. Just because I left my family. I knew I had to. They didn't want to take care of me...and I found my actual family. My moms who love me unconditionally."

Bas takes a deep breath, "Many kids who grow up in...less than perfect households are forced to stay with parents who hate them or won't take care of them, because they don't know that an alternative is out there. The foster care system in Illéa is one of the best in the world. It needs to be made more apparent to children that they have an option. That they don't have to stay with people they hate."

Bas goes on to talk about how he thinks social service workers should talk to each kid in school, to gauge their home situation and offer them the chance to leave if it seems bad enough.

Wow.

I didn't think that Bas was smart enough to come up with something like this, no offense to him.

When he finishes, we all stand to applaud him. He deserves it.

"Was it bad?" I hear him ask Nyson a few rows behind me, seeming worried.

"Bad? Dude, that was amazing." Nyson responds easily. "Better than my suspension thing." He sounds bitter, I note dully.

"I liked your's," Bas says, as it's the appropriate response to something like that. I'm not sure if he means it or not. But let's be real here, his presentation has no comparison to Bas'.

"Thanks." Nyson replies.

"I think we're done here," Dad says, shocking me out of my eavesdropping. "You all did very well, and I'm sure the country will enjoy seeing these presentations. Whatever your futures might hold, any of us here at the palace would be happy to help you enact these proposals."

Uh-huh. I'm not sure if I'm on board with the whole poison ivy idea, but I'd definitely do Bas'. Maybe I'd consider some of the others and then promptly reject them.

"Bas," I say, pulling on his arm as I go to join the selected. "That was really cool."

"Thanks, Your Highness." Bas says, ducking his head, obviously not very used to taking compliments.

The selected all crowd around Bas to congratulate him again, and I find myself pushed to the side slightly. Huh. That's not fair.

"I'm going to go check on Divesh," I say loudly. Their attention all turns back to me, perfect. "Does anyone want to come?"

Nishav and Nyson shake their heads. Eh. They've never been that close with Divesh, from what I've noticed. I didn't think they would volunteer to come anyway. Bas is practically the only one that Nishav likes, and I guess Nyson just isn't in the mood.

Bas, surprisingly, shakes his head too. "I just...I would but I want to go call my parents. I can go find him after if you want," Bas volunteers, obviously uncomfortable with the idea of saying no. Jeez Louise. It's not that big of a deal. Nishav and Nyson refused the invite too, he's not that special.

"I'll come," Nathaniel says, raising his hand slightly. "If you're okay with that, Carrie."

"Heh," I give my best fake laugh trying to dispel the awkwardness of him calling me by a nickname where the other selected can hear. Not to mention my Dad a few feet away and the whole of the report crew. Sure, I guess I told him he could call me Carrie, but I thought he got the memo that nicknames didn't apply to public spaces.

"Yeah, of course you can come. That's great." I answer.

I lead Nathaniel to the back staircase as quickly as I could. "I don't have a jacket," I complain, rolling my eyes slightly. "Whatever. I don't think it's that cold out."

"Do you want my suit jacket?" Nathaniel offers.

I cringe. "Nope. I think I'm good," I say. The thought of wearing somebody else's suit jacket, somebody who's twice my size at a minimum, is repulsive. I like my outfit, a white cherry print skirt and matching top. I don't need a large, navy blue jacket to ruin it.

After wandering around for a little bit - the gardens are a lot bigger than they seem- we finally find Divesh standing by a small fenced-in garden surrounded by pebbles. He's kicking the pebbles with his foot, his hands tucked into his pockets. Divesh could be the album cover for some guy who is miserable and no one would bat an eye.

"Divesh, you okay?" I ask, coming over to him.

"Oh, Your Highness," he says, giving me a weak smile. "I'm fine."

I turn to Nathaniel, "I bet you five dollars he's not."

Nathaniel laughs a little, shaking his head. He doesn't answer me though, probably not wanting to offend Divesh. Dang it, he could have at least played along so I could make Mr. Sadness look a little less like he wants to go home.

"Come on, Divesh, Veshi, Div, you can't be this upset about the presentation. I thought you did good. At least yours was about something actually important."

"What do you mean?" Divesh asks, looking up to meet my eye.

"Guess what Nishav's was about?"

"I don't know."

"Come on, guess."

"Okay. Um, sociology?" Oh right. Divesh is from another country. He would have no way of knowing of Nishav's childhood fame.

"Nope. Poison ivy."

Divesh laughs a little, "Really? Why?"

"I couldn't tell you. But yours was great. I loved it. I might actually make it into a law."

Divesh shakes his head, "I had to restart twice and they paused the film like three times for me. It was humiliating. I don't think I'm cut out for this type of stuff," he clears his throat, "Nathaniel, how was yours?"

"It went well, I think." Nathaniel says, clearly not sure what to say. The truth is his went far better than Divesh's, and we both know it. He doesn't seem like the type to say it though, so Divesh's self-confidence won't be totally fried. "Some of the pictures I used the film people didn't really like. I could tell."

"The film people?" I ask.

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah I do. It wasn't that big of a deal. None of it was. I mean, Nathaniel, they didn't ask you to stop. Divesh you too. Except for those few times."

Divesh makes a face. "It was more than a few times. But I guess you're right. It could have been worse. Maybe."

"See," I say, patting his back. "I told you so. Tell me about something else."

"Like what?" Divesh asks, looking confused by the abrupt change in my mood.

"I don't know… tell me what you did yesterday. Nathaniel you too."

Nathaniel answers first, "Nothing much, really. I just went over my presentation a few times, I called my family. You know. The usual stuff," he answers briefly, ducking his head.

Divesh presses his lips together. "Yeah. I worked on my presentation too. And I played a game of Go Fish with Bas. That's it really," he answers, running a hand through his hair. "I lost pretty badly. I don't even know how. Bas is really good at card games."

"I'll play you," I offer. "I'm not that good, so maybe we'll be evenly matched."

"You...you're not?" Divesh asks, looking surprised.

"Don't act so surprised."

"No...it's just that you're usually so good at everything. I mean..I heard that you were good at roller skating and I don't know. I just really...never mind. I don't know what I'm saying." Divesh says, his cheeks turning an almost inhuman shade of red.

That's sweet though. "Thank you. I like to think I'm good at everything too." I answer. "Nathaniel, what about you?" I ask, realizing he's not really participating in the conversation. I don't want him to feel like the third wheel in whatever this counts as. A semi-date...maybe?

"I'm okay at card games. I haven't played go fish in years though. Not since high school." Nathaniel answers. "Isn't Go Fish just a game of luck though? Like you never really know what other cards someone has."

"That's not true. Deductive reasoning." I say, smiling smugly.

"Oh...okay." Nathaniel responds, not looking wholly convinced. Divesh on the other hand is nodding along, looking much calmer and much happier than he did a few minutes ago. Good. I didn't want him to be upset all day. He's much more handsome when he's not miserable with himself.

"Yeah, I had no idea what I was doing, so it was kinda a bloodbath but I think there's definitely some...strategy...if that's the right word?" Divesh asks, looking confused.

"I like that. We should make a manual. The perfect strategy for Go Fish. I bet we could copyright that." I say, mostly to Divesh.

"Is that allowed?"

"Please, I'm the Crown princess. I can get anything I want copyrighted. Don't be silly Veshi." I say, swatting his shoulder.

Divesh smiles, "That makes sense. Also...I don't think I've ever heard anyone call me by that nickname before. I like it though," he says quickly.

"Really?" I ask. "What do your parents call you?"

"Mostly-"

Whatever it that Divesh was planning on saying I never find out.

Because at that moment there was a loud bang and I found myself on the ground with the taste of dirt in my mouth.

A/N: Hi everyone. Wow...it's been like three months. Yeah, not my finest moment, but believe me, I am determined to finish this story before October. If we're being positive maybe before school starts...but probably not. So October. This is the philanthropy projects which was really fun and lowkey makes me want to make an accountant character. I don't really have anything else to say here, except that I should be updating a lot more in the near future. So yeah. TTFN