CHAPTER 36

Monday, February 3rd

Princess Carolynn Schreave

"Your Highness," a butler says, making me look up from the papers I had been working on in the room that I liked to pretend was my office. I didn't actually have one due to some moral conflict of Mom's, but luckily there were always a few extras. So I just helped myself to one.

"Yes, what's wrong?" I ask, looking over.

"There's been a bit of a…situation. The etiquette teacher asked for your presence." The butler explains, wincing slightly at the memory.

"Situation? It's nine thirty in the morning. Whatever could that woman want so early?" I ask, considering refusing to come. Though, that would probably be worse for the butler who would have to deal with Pearl Van Der Witts than Pearl herself. Since I was trying so hard to be a good person now, putting in the work and all that, I suppose the least I could do was not knowingly make this man's life harder.

Even though if Mom had hired somebody sane I wouldn't be in this conundrum.

"I'm not sure, Your Highness, but she was rather adamant about it. It seemed to be rather important to her."

"Well, she's adamant about everything," I stand up from my borrowed desk, "Lead the way then. I guess she's in the ballroom again?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Isn't she always?" I mutter under my breath, following the butler to the large ballroom. Between family day and today this room was getting more use than it had in nearly a month.

Inside, Pearl was standing with her hands on her hips, her red dress clashing horribly with the bright teal belt and yellow scarf she had tied around her neck. The three selected remaining, Nishav, Bas, and Divesh all looked like they would rather be anywhere else. I got the feeling that while waiting for me she had decided to take her frustration out of them. Those poor, poor boys.

"Your Highness," Pearl says, greeting me, "I have several questions for you." She takes a spiral notebook out of her purse and opens it to the first page.

"Questions? Uh, sure. Go ahead." I answer, not exactly sure what I'm getting myself into. I really hope that this isn't an all day affair.

"What will the flower arrangements be? How will the seating be organized? Will it be sitting or standing? What is the color theme? Is it going to be broadcasted live or on a thirty second delay? How many people would be let into the palace for the event? What beverages-"

"Hey, uh, can we slow down for a second?" I ask, feeling like I might faint from the speed of it all. "What are you talking about? What flower arrangements and color theme?"

"What am I talking about?" Pearl asks incredulously, "Your Highness, what are you talking about? This is only the biggest day in all of your lives. I thought that you of all people would understand the significance that this holds not only for the present, but for every day in your future life." Pearl finished, obviously pleased with herself.

"But…what is going to be so important in my life? Are you talking about the Independence day celebrations? Those usually don't start being planned till March."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Bas making a cutting motion over his throat. "Final three." He mouths, nodding to the rest of the selected.

Oh.

OH.

Right, I kinda forgot about that. I forgot that sending Nyson home meant that I was at the famed final three, where I had to make a decision soon, like within the next two weeks, on who I was going to marry. Damn it. I should have considered that before I let him leave, forgetting about the moral problems with leading him on. Ugh, why was I such an idiot?

Now, I had to get married, well, engaged, so basically married.

At the final four I had time. I had a buffer between the rest of my life and my selection, now that buffer is gone and I'm stuck like a salmon trying to swim upstream.

I guess I do need to do it. Besides, all of these guys would be delighted to marry me, overjoyed to spend the rest of their lives with me, anyone with half of a brain would be. It's not like I was going to make a bad decision. If I was just some normal girl going to a normal college any of these would do. I wouldn't even consider other possibilities. But I'm not a normal girl. I'm the Crown Princess, and I have three really good options in front of me. So I guess I just needed to decide which of the really good options is the best.

Or, if I really can't decide, just roll a dice on the morning of my ceremony and decide who I'm going to marry.

That might actually be a better idea now that I'm thinking about it. Certainly much less pressure for me.

"Yeah, the final three. Sorry, I was kidding about the Independence day celebration. I should have been more clear," I quickly add, seeing the disbelief settling over Pearl's face. "Uh, can you repeat the questions? I'm not sure that I'm the best one to ask about it. I don't really know a lot of the stuff. It's not my decisions most of the time."

"You're not going to make decisions about the ceremony where you choose your husband?" Pearl asks, looking as if martians had just landed on Earth, "My goodness, why ever not?"

"Well, lots of reasons really. I mean, they're really good reasons." I say, I just can't think of them right now.

"Oh. Well, who can I speak to about this then?"

"My dad would probably know more if you want to discuss this with him." I say, shrugging slightly. I hope she did. I hope she forgot all about me and my supposed decisions and gave her list of ridiculous questions to my father. I don't even know why the etiquette teacher would need to know what the flower arrangements are, though I have my suspicions on another sort of arrangement with a trashy tabloid.

"I'll ask him the question then," Pearl says, probably going over to find the poor butler again and make him run another errand.

"How long has this been going on for?" I ask, walking over to my three selected.

Nishav checks his watch, "About forty-five minutes. She was actually quite generous with the late start today. I nearly didn't think she had it in her."

"Nearly?" Bas asks, "I definitely didn't. I thought she was going to make us get up at six in the morning again, like she did before New Year's. Those were the worst. No offense, Carrie."

"None taken." I say, smiling. "Did she say what this was all for?"

Divesh pipes up this time, "She said she wanted to go over etiquette for the final ceremony. She said this stuff follows you around forever."

"What stuff?"

"I think she said tripping, or getting upset on camera," Divesh answered quickly. "It's kinda hard to tell sometimes when she talks fast. I only really hear half of what she says."

"I heard the whole thing," Nishav interjects, "He's mostly right. She also asked us the same questions about the flowers, but there's a whole second section about tablecloths and lighting. One would almost think that it was she who was organizing it. Though I doubt your father would let her anywhere near the actual preparations."

"He would probably let her help, or at least let her believe that she was helping," I say.

"Ah. That would be very kind of him."

"He's a nice person." I say in response. "Why does she even care about the tablecloths? They're not going to be party favors."

"That would be funny," Divesh says, grinning, "If you let everyone take a tablecloth. The ones here are really nice."

"Everything here is really nice."

"Yeah. I know. But I like the tablecloths."

"Why don't you be in charge of picking out the tablecloths then, if you care about them so much?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest in amusement.

Divesh looks up, clearly scared, "Uhm, that's okay. I don't…that seems like a lot of responsibility. I don't want to pick the wrong one."

"It's a tablecloth. You can't pick the wrong one. I'll tell my dad to let you decide. Anyone else have any requests while we're here?" I turn to Nishav and Bas, who both looked equally as amused as me. In their own way I suppose, seeing as Nishav had barely cracked a smile.

"While we're on the topic, I particularly like those frilly little placemats." Nishav adds.

"I like lemonade. I mean, not just in general, I do like it in general, I meant to actually be at the ceremony." Bas trips over his words a little, but in a way, it seems almost like it's out of excitement. Excitement at having been offered a hand in the decision making of a palace event. Not everyone can claim that they got to do that in their lifetime, even if they were actually in the selection.

What a benevolent person I am. Giving my selected all these unique opportunities to better themselves, I really should get a plaque or something for my service. I think I deserve it.

"Noted. Placemats and lemonade, and Divesh gets to pick out the tablecloth with my dad. That should be a fun three hours for you," I say, patting him on the back.

"Three hours? You're joking right? Please tell me that's a joke." Divesh looks worried, as if the idea of having to spend so much time alone with the Prince Consort was frightening to him. At least Mom hadn't decided that she wanted to plan the event. I think Divesh might have actually fainted.

"It probably won't be three hours," I assure him, "It depends on who they have present the options. There's this one guy, he has a mustache, anyway he always gives like two hour long presentations about the tablecloths. I can't interrupt him, that would be rude, but it just goes on and on and on for hours about color swatches and blends and whatnot. It's ridiculous.

"Oh. I hope he doesn't come."

"You have a three out of four chance he won't."

"I would take those odds," Nishav says, "Perhaps not bet on them, but I would definitely take them as fact."

"Good to know you're so wise about prudent forms of betting."

"Well, I've never really done it," Nishav tells me, "But from what I see on television you want the chances to be at least in the eighties if not nineties. When it comes to racehorses, that is, I'm not sure about anything else."

"I did not know that. I guess I learn something new everyday."

"Me too." Bas says.

Divesh was quiet for a moment, "I'm pretty into sports. I heard of that before."

"How sweet," I say, giving him a thumbs up.

The butler comes back into the room, looking positively harried from his morning with Pearl Van Der Witts, Dad following close behind. He seemed almost as confused as I was when the butler had gone to get me earlier.

"Your Majesty," Pearl starts, beckoning the selected into an orderly line. "I had a few questions about the final three ceremony, Her Highness suggested that you might know more about this topic."

"Yes, well, we haven't gotten very far in planning it yet, I wanted to talk things over with my daughter, but if there's any simpler questions, I could probably answer those."

"When is it going to be?" Pearl asks, "As in the date."

"We were thinking February 14th, Valentine's day, if that's okay with you, Carrie?" Dad asks, meeting my eye."

Oh. Valentines day. As in eleven days from now. I was thinking more late June, but I don't think Dad, well, let's be real here, Mom, would agree to that. I have a feeling that Mom's determined to get me to finish my selection before I can back out of it.

Which I am totally not going to do, by the way.

So yeah. I will have it on Valentine's day, just like I'm supposed to. Even if it is just to prove a petty point.

"I think Valentine's day would be very romantic," I say, nodding my approval.

Pearl writes the date down in her notebook, "Perfect. And what would the color scheme be, if you've decided that already."

"I'm not certain that we're going for a specific theme all together. Most likely the room would be done in neutrals, but that's not something you have to worry about.

"Hmmm. Okay, and what about the lighting?"

"The…lighting? Did something happen with the lighting in here? I thought it was working perfectly."

"Well, I was speaking in terms of strobe lights, perhaps colored lighting, or even spotlights." Pearl says, her eyes growing wider as she listed off each ridiculous form of lighting.

To my left, Bas visibly winces. Dad obviously notices it too, because he frowns, "I think those might be a bit much for this. We'll probably just use regular studio lighting, though if you have any ideas with colored lights, I would be happy to hear them." Dad says in a much nicer way than I would have.

"Oh, Dad," I say, "Divesh wants to help pick out the tablecloths."

"Oh, no it's okay. I don't have to. I don't really want to, it's not a big deal." Divesh says, holding up his hands in protest.

"Well, I thought he could pick out the tablecloths. He's really interested in them. Apparently he cares a lot about them, so I think this will be a good thing for him."

"Yeah, Divesh, do it. It'll be fun." Bas coaxes.

"I don't see any reason why not. If you want to be part of those decisions, of course you can come to the meetings about them." Dad assures him, looking a bit confused by the entire exchange in front of him. I guess I could be a bit complicated sometimes.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. That's very nice of you."

"I've truly never met anyone with an interest in tablecloths, it would be nice to hear the opinion of someone who really cares."

Divesh flushes, obviously not exactly comfortable with being described as someone who truly cares about tablecloths, but he doesn't push the matter any farther. He's probably happy he got out with only minimal embarrassment to himself.

Pearl continues to force the three boys to rehearse their parts (even though they don't have ones) to practice walking to their seats (I presume they would be standing) and tells them all to have a speech prepared for when one of them proposes (that part I'm actually fine with. I would like to hear whoever I choose talk about how much they adore me).

Still, the whole thing felt vaguely unsettling. Something about watching Bas pretend to hold a ring box or Divesh kneel makes me feel almost uncertain in where life is heading. I don't know if I want it to be over. I guess I do. I probably should want to get married and all, but that's a big jump. Marrying someone who I've known for a little over three months is far different from when I thought I would be marrying someone who I had known for four years. It's now what I planned, not in the slightest, but I guess it could be worse.

At least I like them all. I didn't have high hopes in the beginning of my selection, but they are all very nice, and very handsome, and everything that someone should be.

Now I just need to marry one of them and be done with it. To be honest, it sounded a lot less complicated in my head.

In what seems to be a running theme, I can't sleep again. As much as I would like to pretend it was for some unknown reason or that I had a stomach virus, I knew that wasn't true. Here I was, just like the night after the family visits, worrying about my future. I had been worried about it all day. I worried about it while I ate lunch. I worried about it while I was pretending to listen to one of the governors who came to visit the palace. I even worried about it during my bubble bath. And I love my bubble baths.

I almost want to force myself to go to sleep. To refuse to get up from bed, to even move until my will finally tires out my brain and I can have what I'm sure is to be a very unpleasant sleep full of things that I don't particularly want to dream about.

But after fifteen minutes, that gets boring. So I do get out of bed. Maybe I'll go to the library and get some boring book that'll put me to sleep. I would hate to have under eye circles tomorrow.

On my way to the library though, I hear faint strains of music coming from what I'm pretty sure is the palace's conservatory. I had rarely gone there after my mother's failed attempts at getting me to learn the piano.

Curiosity getting the better of me, I decide to make a quick detour. It'll only take a few minutes anyway.

"Carrie?" Nishav asks, as I push open the door, stopping his playing immediately. "I apologize, I didn't think anyone would be up to hear this."

"Why'd you stop?" I ask, coming over to him, "It sounded pretty good."

Nishav shakes his head, "I don't play in front of audiences any more. I don't even like to play for myself. It's difficult."

"Oh, but I'm not really an audience, I'm just one person." I point out, plunking one of the keys on the piano. "Besides, I really can't judge you."

Nishav shakes his head, "I don't play in front of anyone anymore."

"So you just like to play for yourself?" I ask curiously. I've heard of some people who do that; Artists who tear up their work after completing it and singers who refuse to ever let anyone see them sing in person. I guess there's some sort of self-fulfillment there, but I think it's stupid. Who would want to work so hard at something and not even get any recognition for it?

Certainly not me.

"No. I don't like to play in general," Nishav muses, his fingers still hovering over the keys. "I find it a horrible waste of time. I just… I can never bring myself to give it up completely, and, no matter how hard I try, I can never seem to make myself forget how to play."

"Oh," I say quietly, "I forgot how to play. I forgot five minutes after each of my lessons. It wasn't that hard."

Nishav's lips quirk into something resembling a smile, "With all due respect, Your Highness, I'm much better at playing the piano than you. It would be far harder for me to forget," Nishav says, shaking his head.

"I guess you're right." I squeeze next to him on the piano bench. "Do you want to hear me play? I still remember how to play Old McDonald."

"You know how to play that?" Nishav asks curiously.

"Well, I know how to play the ei-ei-oh part, I was planning on just improvising the rest."

"I think I'm okay," Nishav says, removing my hands from the piano. "Thank you for offering though."

"I try." I clear my throat for a second, "Nishav, why do you hate music so much? I mean, I get the whole thing about your parents forcing you to do it, but isn't it just the tiniest bit fun? Just to play and not have to perform and all."

Nishav thinks for a few seconds, his lips pursing. "No. It's not fun for me. I despise every moment of it, but it calms my nerves, so I guess I'm thankful for it in a way. Thankful that it provides me with a distraction so I don't have to focus on whatever's bothering me."

"What is bothering you anyway?"

"The same thing that is clearly bothering you." Nishav says simply.

"Oh right. That makes sense." I whisper, staring into space, "Sometimes, I'm so sure of who I'm going to marry. And then something happens, or I talk to someone else, and suddenly I'm so certain of a different future. I don't really know what to do?"

Nishav's voice takes on a clinical note, "Who is the greatest amount of your thought proportioned to? Who do you think about without having to first be prompted by them? That's the person your subconscious wants to marry. Whether you listen or not is up to you, but that is where your heart is urging you."

"That's…actually really smart. Did you learn that at college too?"

"Some of it. I took a psychology course in my second year. I enjoyed that." Nishav explains.

"Well, what if the person I want to marry doesn't love me back. What if they think I'm clingy, and vain, and probably a little on the crazy side?" I ask, almost not believing that I was seeking reassurance from Nishav Levesque of all people.

Nishav laughs at that. Not a full blown laugh, I've never actually heard him do that, but a small chuckle, "If that's what you're worried about, don't be. Divesh and Bas both worship the ground you walk on. They love you."

"And what about you?"

"Me?" Nishav asks blankly.

"Yes, you. Do you love me too? Or am I just a nuisance?"

"No. Of course you're not a nuisance Carrie, I just…," Nishav takes a breath, "I've never told anyone I loved them before. Never in my life, and honestly, I'm not entirely certain that it would take two hands to count the amount of people who might love me in the world. It's a scary thing to do, and in a selection too."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, confused. The selection was supposed to be scary for me. The selected were supposed to have absolutely no qualms about marrying me. This was not how it was supposed to work! If Gregory Illéa was still alive he would be in for one hell of a lawsuit.

"I care for you Carrie. I do. It's just daunting to say that the first person I loved was the Crown Princess who is currently dating two other men. You can see how that could be unsettling for someone, right?" Nishav asks, looking me in the eyes.

I flush, "I guess, yeah. I can see how that would be scary. But Nishav, do you love me?"

"I don't…I don't know. Even if I did, I don't think that I could get there with you. Not when there are other people here. It's hard for me, and if the situations had been different, I probably would have been able to say it, but I can't do it Carrie. I'm sorry."

"Oh." Now I look stupid, like a lovesick little girl, and if there's one thing I hate in the world it's looking stupid.

But maybe, just maybe, Nishav has a point. Maybe it's not fair for me to expect him to fall in love with me when he doesn't even know if he'll be the one I choose. Maybe I should try to see his point of view. I can admit that I'm a competitive person, and if I was in a selection, I wouldn't be able to handle the idea of the person I love marrying someone else. I'm just not built for that. So yeah, maybe I wouldn't be able to get there either.

"It's nothing against you." Nishav adds quickly, "You're a very kind, lovely person. I just can't bring myself to say it. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." I say, looking down. "I get it. I would do the same thing in your shoes."

"Really?"

"Yeah. In case you haven't noticed, I really like to win."

Nishav laughs, shaking his head. "I suppose I should see myself out tomorrow morning?"

"No. No, you cannot do that." I tell him, "I need you to stay until the final three ceremonies, or else it would just be awkward to only have two guys."

"Ah. I understand."

"Don't tell anyone about this. It can be our little secret."

"Our little secret," Nishav repeats, "Okay. If that's how you want it, Princess, then I'm happy to oblige. I…again, I really am sorry for this Carolynn."

"It's okay," I say, accepting the apology in a way I definitely wouldn't have a month ago, "I may not be happy about it, but I know why you're telling me this, and I can accept that."

Hey besties, so what is this with another update? Yeah, I mean, I guess blizzards have some benefits. So actually, believe it or nor, this is the third to last chapter which is just crazy to think about. Next chapter is the final dates, then the thing where Carrie chooses her husband. I guess there's also an epilogue, but yeah. Anyway, in this chapter we say sorta but not really goodbye to Mr. Nishav. Funny story about this scene, but anyway I don't think I can say it until after I posted the last chapter lol