CHAPTER 5

Princess Carolynn Schreave

Tuesday, the 17th of November, 2239

"Cranberry?" Jenna asks, holding up a dark red knee-length dress, with gold accents around the neck. I had gotten it for a Christmas party last year, but had never actually ended up wearing it. It wasn't exactly bad, it was just a minnow in a sea of better fashion options.

I wrinkle my nose as I look at it. I didn't like it last Christmas, and I still don't like it now. "I don't know. Maybe something else."

Jenna sighs as she adds the dress to the teetering pile of outfits that I had already rejected, "If I may, Your Highness, maybe you should get rid of it if you never want to wear it."

"I might want to wear it someday." I point out, "Sadly, today is not the day. So let me see option...what number are we on again?"

"7" Jenna tells me, pressing her lips together. She looks into my closet again, this time picking out a light-blue sleeveless dress with ruffles around the neckline. "How about this one, Miss?" She asks, working to cover up her annoyance. I appreciate the effort, but even I know that it's getting ridiculous. Thank God for Jenna being willing to put up with this.

I purse my lips as I study the dress, "I don't hate it." I finally conclude. "Put it in the maybe pile."

Jenna's eyebrows shoot up, "There's a maybe pile?"

"There is now."

Jenna places the dress on a separate rack, reaching into my expansive closet once again. "Do you have any color in particular that you would like to wear?" She asks hopefully.

"No. I'll know it when I see it." A loud knock- well, more like someone banging their fist- sounds on the door, and before me or Jenna can move the door swings open. "Go away Garnet." I say without turning around. My parents or any staff members would wait for someone to answer the door, and my other little cousins would have had enough politeness to not knock that loudly.

"Can I borrow your phone?" He asks, settling himself on my bed without asking. How rude of him.

"I said go away. Why are you even here?" I ask, finally turning to glare at him.

"Today's parent-teacher conferences at school. I have the day off. Mom is doing something with a caste equality board or justice committee hearing or something stupid like that, and I'm still grounded so she wouldn't let me do anything with my friends. Dad brought me into work because apparently that was the only thing they could think of." Garnet explains, lying face-down on my bed. He doesn't seem too pleased about the arrangements, but seeing as he's currently messing up my neatly made bed, I can't feel too bad for him.

"Parent-teacher conferences?" I try to stifle a laugh as I look at him, "How's that gonna go for you."

Garnet groans into my pillow. Ugh. I'm going to need to get my bedsheets changed after this. "I'm going to be in so much trouble Car," he says, "I'm not going to be allowed to leave my house till I graduate after this." Well, that's no surprise. Garnet is grounded every other week. I know that there is the benefit of the doubt and all that, but when it comes to schoolwork, he's guilty until proven more guilty.

"It's not like you're allowed to go out with your friends anyway." I say, motioning for Jenna to pick out another outfit. "Not without a few guards anyway."

"You're mean." Garnet complains, taking my pillow and smushing it over his face. Gross.

"I'm honest. Where's Aggie and Teddy?" I ask, looking at Jenna's latest find. A purple floral dress with rhinestones along the waist. I love that dress, but not today. Maybe for a date later down the line, but not for the first meetings.

"School, duh. The conferences for lower-school are next week."

"You know what, I think I'll wear a skirt and matching top." I say suddenly, "The white set with the cherry blossoms."

"Finally." Jenna mutters under her breath. She obviously doesn't intend for me to hear it, but I laugh all the same. "I think it's in the back. You haven't worn that in three months."

"It's more of a summer item." I point out, "Which means I need a cardigan or something." I wave my hand at the closet, expecting Jenna to find something. She always does. That's the beauty of having a personal maid, after years they become so intune to your thoughts that it's almost like living with a second Carrie.

"Are you cleaning out your closet?" Garnet asks, propping himself up on his elbows. His bright blue hoodie is crumpled, which would never have happened if he hadn't laid on my bed without asking. I would probably take more satisfaction in that thought if it seemed as if Garnet actually cared about things like that. Stupid 14 year old cousins.

Am I allowed to create a law that all cousins must be within two years of one another?

I roll my eyes, "No."

"Then what's with all this stuff?" he asks. Seriously? What planet has Garnet been living on? I know he's been cut off from his phone for a week and half and missed most of the news coverage, but you would think one of his parents would mention it somewhere along the line. Plus, as far as I knew, Aggie still had her phone. And there was television. What was going on in the Fraser-Schreave house?

Or had his parents told him about it and he was just ignorant?

"Gee, I don't know Garnet." I draw the words out to be unnecessarily long, "Maybe it's the first day of my selection?"

Garnet perks up almost instantaneously, "Wait, so Henri's here? Because I have math homework due tomorrow."

"How do you expect to pass the province exam if you have never actually done the homework yourself?"

"Oh please. That stuff's nothing compared to the homework. Besides, you're one to talk. You've never even had to write an essay let alone do math homework." Garnet bemoans, his dark hair tousled over his face. I try to hold back from pointing out that he looks half-dead, I have a feeling that it wouldn't go over fairly well. Garnet already seems pretty upset that he's going to spend his day off from school doing geometry. As far as I can tell, that seems to be the bane of his existence. Along with chemistry, history and spanish of course.

Ironic considering that his parents had given him spanish lessons when he was younger.

Must not have stuck.

"Whatever Garnet. If you're going to be here today, we need to set some ground rules." I tell him, using my best Future Queen of Illéa voice, taking pleasure in the way Garnet recoils.

"Rules?" he complains loudly.

"Yes." Garnet has a bad habit of sticking his nose where it doesn't belong. Fine, I'll admit that I'm guilty of that myself on occasion, but it's okay when I do it. Not when my cousin does. Better to get ahead of the curve. "First, you will stay 10 feet away from me at all times." I start, "If I'm with a selected , that's 20 feet. And you are not to talk to, look at, or even breathe the same air as any of the guys. Not even to get your homework done." I need to carry on this charade for a few months, Garnet being, well, Garnet on the first day would throw a wrench in my plan.

"That's not fair." Garnet whines.

"Life's not fair. Deal with it."

"What am I supposed to do all day?"

"I don't know. Go bother your Dad. Maybe he'll take you out to lunch as a favor to me." I say hopefully. It's just wishful thinking on my part though.

Garnet seems to be on the same line of thought as me, "Please," he snorts, "Do you really think my mom would let him end my punishment early?"

"No, but a girl can dream right?" I purse my lips as my eyes land on the tablet lying on my desk, "If I give you my tablet for the day will you leave me alone?"

Sensing his opportunity to get back into the world of modern-day civilization, Garnet straightens. "Of course I will." He promises quickly, pressing a hand over my heart. "Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye." He recites quickly, almost as if he was doing a spelling exam. Pity he would never be able to do that well on an actual spelling exam.

"Fine." I incline my head towards the blue-cased tablet sitting on my desk, "The password is 4499." I say, making a mental note to change it later.

"Promise not to tell my parents?" Garnet asks, probably sensing a trap.

I roll my eyes, "Yes, I promise."

"Say it."

"No."

"I'll go bother your precious little selected." Garnet taunts.

Ugh. This is so not worth arguing with him over. "Fine. Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye. I won't tell your parents."

That seems to satisfy Garnet. "Thanks Car! Bye Jenna!" Garnet exclaims, leaving my room happily. I wait till I hear the door slam shut before turning to Jenna.

"Make sure to get me new sheets." I tell Jenna.

"Of course Miss," she says. "Now, about the outfit." She holds up the cherry-print set I had picked out earlier, now with a loose sheer pink cardigan over it, a pair of gold wedge heels, and a shiny gold metallic foil belt. I grin eagerly, grabbing the clothes from her to change. Once I'm fully decked out in my cherry blossom ensemble, Jenna sets to doing my hair. She applies a cream to my curls, making them fuller and bouncier, before knotting a cherry blossom flower tiara into the crown of my head. She uses dark eyeliner and mascara and my eyes, before pronouncing me finished.

I don't know whether it's Jenna's skill or just me getting up absurdly early, but even with Garnet's interruption I'm done hours before the 10 am mark. I would be willing to wager that half of the boys aren't even up yet.

That's no matter though,

I've got nothing but time.


I straighten as I stand in front of the crowd of boys. They had already eaten breakfast by themselves in their rooms. Something about avoiding fights. I found that utterly ridiculous, they're going to have another few months to get into arguments. And I know for a fact that Mom isn't planning on keeping them separate for the entirety of the selection.

The camera crew from the report, along with a few journalists from the most prominent papers are present, all with lanyards around their neck stating their affiliation. They would be filming now and from what I could tell, conducting interviews on a few selected after the fact. Not the actual meetings though, that would be an invasion of privacy as if this whole thing isn't already one.

"Gentlemen." I greet, standing at my full 5'3 plus the heels. I don't feel like doing the math of how tall that would make me. "I hope your first night at the palace was perfect. And if it wasn't, just tell us. Believe me, the palace is more than capable of making sure each of your experiences are beyond perfect." Capable we might be, but I really hope none of these boys take this as an opportunity to complain. At least not to me. They can complain to their butler for 17 hours a day for all I care.

One of them, a blonde man -boy is the wrong word- raises his hand. You've got to be joking. "You don't need to raise your hand." I say airily, "This isn't grade school, I won't give you detention."

The man laughs slightly, "Sorry. Uh, I'm a vegetarian, and not to complain, but I was wondering if it would be possible to have vegetarian dishes at dinner instead of just side plates." Huh. We can definitely do that.

"Yeah of course." I smile, gesturing for Jenna to write that down. "Well, now then. I know you're all pretty nervous, but don't worry- the feelings mutual." No it's not. "So, a guard will come to get you when it's your turn to meet me, then escort you to the...men's parlor, I think it's called. I don't know, they just set it up for the selections." I tell the guys, who laugh politely at my joke. Henri catches my eye, and I shrug slightly.

"Anyway, my apologies to the first person. You'll probably be waiting alone for a bit." I start to head towards the door before turning back, "Oh! I forgot. Anyway, there's no real order as to how you're being called. Just be ready whenever." With that I actually exit the room, leaving 1 curious and 34 nervous boys in my wake.

The small room being used for my first meetings had mirrors lining one wall, making it appear bigger than it actually was. There were two lime green overstuffed armchairs and a low coffee table in the room, facing a large window. A pearly white rug sat on the floor, a collection of various paintings and statues placed strategically around the room. Though it seemed almost like a last minute add-on, I thought the room was cozy.

Trays of treats sat on the coffee table, probably more for my benefit than the boys. I doubted any of them were going to spend their 5 minutes snacking. Though that would be an unique approach. There were plates of fresh fruits, mini sandwiches, and, my personal favorite, macaroons. Glass pitchers of fresh-squeezed juices ladened the table, crystal glasses nearby.

I grabbed the pitcher of juice, starting to pour it into a cup. "You're dribbling." A cold voice says. I whip my head around to see who said that. Interesting choice to start the meeting.

"Oopsie-daisy." I say, looking at the stream of orange juice that had fallen onto the table. "Guess I need to clean that."

"You can't have a maid do it?" The boy asked, his voice still cold. I mean, I could do that, but I didn't want to seem like a stuck-up princess who couldn't do a thing for herself right off the bat.

"I can." I agree, nodding as I speak. "Never mind that, what's your name?" I look at the boy for the first time. He has asian features, but if I had to guess I'd say he was mixed-race. Freckles cover his pale face. He's not as buff as I hoped most of the guys would be, instead a more intimidating sort of pretty with his long lashes and thin, but defined, lips.

The boy runs a hand through his dark hair, "Nishav Levesque."

"You're Nishav Levesque?" I exclaim, smiling broadly. That must be fate, for him to be my first meeting. "The musician?"

Nishav purses his lips, "Yes, that's me. I don't practice music anymore." His words are short and clipped, he clearly doesn't want to talk about music.

Alright. I won't push. Not yet at least.

"So, what do you do now?" I ask, settling myself on one of the chairs. I motion for Nishav to sit in the other one, which he does.

"I'm a librarian." He answers me deliberately, his face barely changing expression.

"A librarian?" I ask. "Is that...fun?" All the librarians I've seen in movies are cranky old ladies who wear oatmeal-colored cardigans and wire-framed glasses. Nishav fits none of those requirements, except that his sweater is a dark brown color that might be a distant cousin to oatmeal. I can't imagine that Nishav is all too delighted about his job.

"I enjoy it. I know it's not a job for everyone though." He says plainly.

"There's that thing… The davey decimal solution?"

"Dewey decimal system," he tells me. "We use that to organize the books." He gives me what might be the briefest explanation I have ever heard. Must not be a talker. Or maybe I'm just used to people giving me long drawn-out speeches to seem more important than they are.

"Yeah, I've heard of that a few times." I sigh, placing my hands in my lap. "Where would you hide in a zombie apocalypse?" I ask, picking a question from the book I had leafed through last night. I couldn't think of a better use for a speed-dating book than what I'm doing right now. Not to mention that all the questions are fairly base level.

"A zombie apocalypse?" Nishav clarifies.

"Yes. How would you deal with it?"

Nishav looks perplexed by this question, "I guess I would...hide in a basement?" Nishav's sentence is almost a question. Clearly he hadn't thought much about this.

"Basement. That's a good idea." I smile at him, hoping he would smile back. His face barely changes. Great.

Nishav presses his lips together before looking up at me, "How about you?"

I straighten in my seat. Unlike Nishav, I've had a lot of time in boring meetings to contemplate one of the most important questions of the universe. "Probably the palace safe rooms. Those doors are a good 4 feet thick, I doubt any zombies are getting past them." The one snag in my brilliant plan, which I don't mention to Nishav, is that the vents are connected to the safe rooms. Ah well. If and when the zombies actually attack, I'll figure out a back-up plan.

"That's a good idea," he says begrudgingly.

I smile, "Thank you. It was a pleasure meeting you, Nishav. If you make your way out there should be someone waiting to take you to the men's parlor." I had been prepared to apologize to whichever poor soul who had to go first and wait by himself for 10 minutes, but somehow I don't think that Nishav will mind all that much.

"You as well." He says, bowing slightly on his way out.


"Your Highness," the blond vegetarian says as he enters the room. He's wearing a dark blue polo and...converse. Weird choice, but judging their fashion choices is the least of my concerns right now. His hair is longer than I thought it would be, the curls almost reaching his shoulders.

"Nathaniel. The pirate." I say, leaning forward in my seat. If he had been wearing an eye patch and a peg leg the comment may have come off a bit better, still, Nate...Nathaniel...whatever he wants me to call him gets the gist.

"I'm not a pirate." Nathaniel says, "There's no walking the plank in Clermont."

I make a face. "Guess blackbeard doesn't exist either?"

"If he does, then I've never met him." Nathaniel looks extremely calm at the prospect of being in this room, calmer than most people are when talking to me. Something about being the heir to the throne makes everyone a bit on edge in my presence.

"Shame." I shake my head slowly, prospects of meeting an actual real-live pirate slipping out of my grasp. Ah well. Pirates seem violent anyway. "Hey, do you want me to call you Nate?" I ask. It's a common nickname for Nathaniel, but for all I know he might want to be called Le-Le or something stupid like that. I wouldn't argue if he did, everyone has weird preferences.

Nathaniel shakes his head, "Just Nathaniel. It's what everyone calls me."

"Wait, really?" I know I said I wouldn't argue about what he wanted to be called, but come on.

Nathaniel smiles, seemingly unperturbed by my reaction. "I get that a lot. I don't mind being called Nate, but it's better when people just say Nathaniel." He explains, his voice an even tone. He shifts his arm as he talks, revealing a small whale tattoo. I wonder briefly what other tattoos he has on his body hidden underneath his shirt.

"Cool ink." I say, nodding towards his wrist.

Nathaniel glances at it then back to me, "Oh, my tattoo. Yeah, I thought it looked pretty neat when I got it done," he pauses for a moment. "Doesn't that mess with the whole royal image thing? I mean, I doubt that royalty are allowed to get tattoos." He runs a hand through his blond curls as he talks, not particularly upset by the idea of it being against royal customs. Though, in the few minutes I had known him, I was beginning to think that nothing upsetted him.

"It really doesn't matter." I shrug to prove my point. "My aunt has a tattoo on her forearm."

Nathaniel considers that for a moment, "Sweet. Would you ever get a tattoo?"

"Nah. Not really my thing." They look cool on other people, but needles scare me too much for me to willingly subject myself to that kind of torture. I don't know how Nathaniel went through that, or anyone else. I still tear up when I have to get my blood drawn, the head doctor at the palace draws smiley faces on my arm before sticking the needle in.

"Oh, okay." Nathaniel nods his head of floppy blond hair to prove his point.

"What's the last movie you watched?" I ask, picking another one of my patent-pending speed date questions.

"Promise you won't laugh?" Nathaniel begs. It's really quite cute.

"No." I answer honestly.

"Fine. The last movie I watched was… Pirates of Neverfolks." Nathaniel winces as I take in what he just said. What's the old saying? If it walks like a pirate and talks like a pirate, it probably is a pirate.

It's a good thing I didn't promise not to laugh, because this is way too good to pass up.

Good thinking, past me!

"See! I knew you were a pirate." I answer smuggly, probably taking a bit too much pleasure in all this.

"To be fair, I watched Arnold The Elephant after that, but it's a television show. So I guess that technically doesn't count."

"It's also meant for two year olds." I say. I don't mind Nathaniel, he's entertaining. I wasn't planning on eliminating anyone after the first meetings anyway, but if I had, then he would have been in the keepers pile. He can stick around for a little while longer. "It was nice meeting you, Nathaniel. There should be someone to take you to the men's parlour, I wouldn't be surprised if someone interviews you, so just be prepared for that."

Nathaineil nods, clasping his hands in front of him and bowing quickly before leaving.


The next boy who enters the room has a familiar face. Nyson Avery from Columbia. The one with the actor cheekbones. He had stuck out to me on the report, mostly because of his looks but minor details.

"Lynn," he says to me as he sits in the chair.

Lynn? That's something I've never heard before. Carrie? Yes. Car? All the time. Hell, sometimes people even called me Cara, but not Lynn. "Bold." I say, nodding my approval. "I like bold. So, Nyson, tell me a bit about yourself."

Nyson flushes, obviously pleased that his plan had worked out. Must have been a stressful few minutes for him. I don't know what these boys were told about me, but I'm sure Pearl- if not the aid sent to get all the waivers signed- addressed my title. Nyson must be a brave one to throw it all to the wind.

"I'm a landscaper, though I hope to work in agriculture in the future." Nyson tells me. I refrain from saying eww cows. The only ones I like are fuzzy stuffed animals on my bed.

"Do you start off all your professional relationships by choosing ridiculous nicknames?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

Nyson pales, his supposed suaveness gone. "No. No. I'm sorry, Your Highness. I didn't know...I just thought...If you…" Though his rambling is, simply put, adorable, for the sake of both of us I need to cut this off.

"I'm just messing with you." I say lightly. "I don't mind."

Nyson looks up at me, "Oh. Okay. Are you sure?"

"I said I didn't mind, didn't I? What, are you calling me a liar?" I tease, taking a wrongful amount of pleasure in his flustered expression. Oops. Eh, this stuff is part of life, he better get used to it sooner rather than later. Life lessons, isn't that what the selection is supposed to teach? Well, he can consider this as a crash course.

"No. I'm not. I would never say that to someone I just met." Nyson stammers, his tan skin becoming a shocking shade of red.

"Of course you wouldn't." I say, giggling at his expression. "So, tell me, Nyson, if you had to choose between driving an electric scooter for all your life or a sailboat which would you pick and why?" I ask, choosing from my long list of memorized speed-date questions. Good thing I had read that book instead of watching a movie last night. That was brilliant on my part. I'm so smart that sometimes I surprise myself.

"Drive an electric scooter or sailboat?" Nyson echoes, his expression blank and his voice confused.

I nod, "Yup."

"I...I don't think I can drive a sailboat." Nyson points out, running a hand through his dark hair.

"Okay fine. Drive an electric scooter or sail a sailboat?"

Nyson takes a small yellow (probably lemon-flavored) macaroon off the blue china setting, chewing slowly. He was probably just stalling, unsure of what to say. I resist the urge to say no wrong answers, I don't want to look like an overly peppy preschool teacher on the first day. Though I will admit that my outfit lean towards preschool teacher vibes.

"So?" I prompt expectantly.

"Probably driving an electric scooter." Nyson says definitively. "A sailboat would be cool and all, but I live in Columbia, there's really nowhere to take the boat. I guess an electric scooter would be really slow, but it's gotta be better than walking everywhere on foot." He explains, the description more well thought out and longer than I would have thought from his hesitance.

"That's smart. An electric scooter would probably be more functional." I concede, though I personally would have liked a sailboat. I think the palace might own one, but I'm not sure. I know we've definitely rented them for parties though.

"Have you ever ridden one?" Nyson asks, his eyes gleaming.

I scoff, "Of course not."

"Not very princess-y then?" Nyson questions.

"Not in the slightest.

"Well, you know what that means?" He hedges. To be quite honest I couldn't even guess what he's getting at.

"No."

"You and I need to take one out for a spin." Nyson says excitedly. I guess I was right in my first impression of him. This boy has some serious guts. I don't know whether to agree with him out of respect for his risky move or shut it down because I really don't need my selected thinking that they can ask me on dates whenever they want. I'm the one running the show here. Maybe I should get myself an official badge.

Have you ever ridden one?" I ask, trying to delay giving him an answer.

"Yeah. My grandma had one, I used to play with it as a kid." Nyson beams, obviously hoping that my question means a solid yes.

Groan.

I did tell myself not to crush the hopes and dreams of these poor unfortunate souls, and I really shouldn't double back on the promise within the first two hours of my selection. It's like a New Years resolution only with slightly larger impacts. I hate being a nice person. "Sounds like fun." I agree.

"Wait, really? When do you think we can go?" He asks excitedly, almost too excited.

I shrug, not bothering to attempt to mirror his level of enthusiasm. "It depends on how group dates work, I'll definitely make sure to work it in sooner rather than later." I promise quickly.

Me trying to delay the whole ordeal doesn't seem to put a damper on Nyson's spirit. "I'll be looking forward to it Lynn." I wince at the nickname, before giving my hand a flourish.

"Well, Nyson, it was a pleasure meeting you. There should be guards outside to take you to the men's parlor. Some reporters might want to interview you, though I guess they could be a bit busy right now. Anyway, I'll look forward to our...electric scooter date. See you later." I finish unceremoniously, waiting for him to leave the room.

Perfect.


"Finally." I mutter as Henri walks through the door. He's wearing a navy blue suit which- I can't help noticing- brings out his eyes.

"I take it the introductions haven't been going too well?" He asks knowingly, sitting in the chair opposite me.

I pout, the stress of the day finally getting to me. "I have to go on a date with one of them. A solo date. On an electric scooter." I scowl at the last word, not very pleased at the prospect. Is it wrong to hope that palace security vetoes the idea?

Probably.

"Electric scooter? I had one of those as a kid...wait, you don't know how to ride a scooter." Henri's voice trails off as he considers my dilemma.

"I don't think he's talking about that type." I say, "And I can ride a scooter!" I protest loudly. Mostly anyway. The last time I borrowed one of my younger cousins' scooters I had only ended up with a bruise on one of my knees. I'm counting that as a win.

"No. You can't." Henri shakes his head, realizing it's a futile argument. "What type of scooter are you going to be riding then. A vespa?"

"Nope. The type old ladies with knee surgeries use. It's going to be horrible." I whine, picking up a macaroon from the table. I hadn't wanted to eat one in front of any of the other guys yet in case they thought I was being unladylike, but at least I didn't have to worry here.

"Huh. Weird choice for a date."

"You're telling me. In case he missed it, both my legs work fine." I grumble, sticking out one of my legs to further prove my point.

"It might be fun Car. I don't know. Who asked you out?" Henri seems interested in which boy had enough nerves to ask me out on a date after knowing me for what? A grand total of 5 minutes? I thought there was some rule about the selected not being able to seek out alone time with the princess? Clearly, whoever was in charge of Nyson failed to mention that crucial detail.

"Nyson Avery. Do you know him?" I ask after seeing comprehension dawn on Henri's face.

"Yeah. He was in my group traveling from the airport. He's nice enough, I guess. I didn't really talk to them." Henri shrugs, but I know him better than that.

"Why?" I ask, curious to see how far he's willing to take this lie.

"I think most of them were pretty stressed about the crowds. And then once we were at the palace that Van Der Witts woman is like a military captain. Where'd you find her anyway?"

"Believe it or not, a reality tv show." I say, knowing how ridiculous that sounds.

"Really? Makes sense. I can't imagine many people would be willing to work with her."

"I'm not too jazzed about it myself. I think Mom would have fired her last Friday if she had more time. Alas, short time schedules and all that." I roll my eyes, still not particularly happy about the short time schedule that led to her hiring. And, even after me pressing her for the better part of 45 minutes, she still refused to tell me why Mossline left the show. That was the only reason why I didn't throw a fit at her hiring in the first place.

"I can see why. Apparently she's related to my 7th cousin." Henri's voice is dripping with sarcasm at the absurdity of the statement.

"You have a 7th cousin?" I ask, not quite sure that his family tree actually extends back that far. I'm sure that I must have 7th cousins as well, but I have no clue as to who they are or where they might live. My curiosity about Henri's relationship with the other selected was all but forgotten.

"My question exactly."

"Maybe you can get one of those royal genealogists to fact check her." I suggest.

"Oh please. I don't need her to hate me any more than she already does. So much for blood being thicker than water." Henri tells me.

I raise an eyebrow, "You're not related by blood."

"Try telling her that."

At that I finally laugh, all the tension that had been building up as my meetings went on and on leaving my body. Somehow the thought of a washed-up half-crazy actress being related to the british royal family, or any royal family in general, is enough to make me lose the practiced smile I had been wearing for the majority of the day in favor of a genuine one.

"Oh, have you seen Garnet?" I ask, catching my breath.

"No, why?" Henri asks, seeming confused.

"He has parent-teacher conferences today so I made him promise to stay 10 ft away from my selected." I explain.

"He has the day off? Lucky. They never did that when I went there. We only ever got half-days." Henri complains, mourning the loss of a few vacation days when he was a junior in Garnet's school. Apparently his parents decided it would be best to send him to the same school that Garnet, Aggie, and Teddy went to for security reasons.

"Pity. Anyway, have you seen Garnet?" I press, ready to go tattle on him to Aunt Quinn.

"No. He must've actually followed through on the promise." Henri says, seeming just as shocked by the notion as I was.

"That's a first." I check the clock on the wall, realizing how much time I've spent with Henri. I don't want to, but I better get the next guy in here. "I think you have to go." I say, sighing in disappointment.

"Probably." Henri gets up to leave, I stand as well, planting a kiss on his lips before he exits.


The last boy to enter the room has dark brown skin and black hair. He's attractive, maybe not in a supermodel/pro-wrestler way, but there's no denying it. He bows to me, before standing awkwardly, clearly not sure if he should sit or not.

"Go ahead. You can sit." I say, gesturing towards the empty chair on one side of me.

The boy sits, smiling gratefully at me. "I'm Divesh Agarwal." He says, his words carrying a heavy british accent. It's much more pronounced than Henri's, him having spent the last 4 years in Illéa. How would Divesh, who I doubt has lived in Illéa for long, get into my selection?

"Nice to meet you," I say smiling, "Forgive me for asking, but where are you from? You have a pretty clear accent." I giggle slightly at the end, just in case it happens to be a touchy subject. It never hurts to look a bit more innocent.

Divesh meets my smile, his actually reaching his eyes. "It's no big deal. I'm from Britain, but I'm doing university in Illéa." He explains quickly.

"Oooh. What are you studying?" I ask curiously. I might not have been able to attend college, but I liked hearing about other people's times. Living vicariously through other adolescents experiences' I guess. It's sad, but better than nothing.

"Medicine at University of Allens." Divesh explains, his face brightening.

"My dad studied pre-med." I offer, "Before he married my mom and all. I think he only got to finish his third year."

"Really?" Divesh asks, looking excited. "I didn't know that."

"Why would you? I mean, you didn't even live in this country until...how long ago?" I tease lightly, though my question is genuine. I honestly want to know.

"I transferred at the end of that last quarter," he says.

"Well, I hope you like it here. I know Illéa can seem a bit...weird at first, but I promise it will grow on you." I chirp, feeling like an overly-excited tour guide. Say what you will, but I happen to like my country. For some reason, it's important to me that Divesh knows just how great Illéa happens to be. Who knows? Maybe he'll decide to move here.

Yes, I know I'm overly-patriotic, but it's literally the country I'm in charge of. How am I supposed to act?

"The number of people telling me how cool they think my accent is can get a bit repetitive, but other than that I like it so far." Divesh answers. I inwardly wince, remembering my first thoughts when I heard him speak. Ah well. Good thing I didn't voice them.

"Yeah, not much can be done about that." I laugh slightly.

"I don't expect you to have some hidden cure." Divesh assures me. "I was just...complaining for no reason."

"No, I totally get it. Imagine having the same people who talk about your accent, but make it the crown princess. It gets really tiring."

"I don't want to imagine that." Divesh chuckles nervously.

"Okay, well then. Let's move on. If you had to live in an igloo for a year, how would you decorate it?" I ask, resting my head on my hand. Not the most princess-perfect position, but after finishing meeting with 34 boys and being halfway through the 35th, I don't think I really care. It's not like these meetings are being filmed anyway, thank God someone had the foresight to take care of that would-be issue.

Divesh seems more than happy to go along with my ridiculous question, "Can I hang things in the igloo?"

"Let's say yet."

Divesh nods, seeming to think this through. "Well, first I would get a shag rug, and I would have a lot of really warm blankets because I don't feel like freezing to death and I doubt I can light a fire in the igloo. I guess I would get a wifi router, maybe a television if I can manage it." He says, explaining his vision.

"What would your color scheme be?" I ask curiously.

"I don't know, I guess reds and blues. Nothing silver or gray."

"That sounds great." I say, smiling at him. Divesh flushes, happy at my compliment. "I would adopt a pet penguin."

"Penguins are cute, I'm not sure if they would be the best pet though." Divesh muses.

I shrug, "I like penguins. Anway, It was lovely meeting you Divesh. I'll walk with you to the men's parlor. I probably have to make a few announcements." I frown slightly at the idea of having to give yet another speech. Couldn't today be over yet?

"Oh. The mass elimination?" Divesh asks as we walk along the hall. I can't help but notice that he doesn't offer me his arm, but he's probably a bit too nervous. He's biting his lip like crazy. Would it be rude to offer him chapstick?

"Normally yes, but I'm not doing that." I explain. Divesh must have looked into the selection enough to realize that there was a huge elimination following the introductions almost every time the tradition rolled around.

"Why not?" He asks, before hurriedly adding, "If that's not prying."

"It's not. And to answer your question, I just don't feel like doing that. Not until everyone has gotten a date at least. It just seems fair." I say, Divesh nodding his understanding.

The two guards at the entrance to the men's parlor bow to me before opening the door. I enter confidently, Divesh trailing slightly behind. I flick my hand, telling himot join the rest of the selected, a sign that he quickly picks up on. The men's parlor is an airy room, slightly smaller than the original women's room. It's furniture is in a darker wood, probably to make it look more masculine. The guys are standing around, some sitting in chairs and couches upholstered in a dark red. A small filming studio had been set up in the corner, though no one is using it right now.

"Gentlemen." I say, jockeying for their attention. They all comply, looking up at me. "I hope you all had a great first day at the palace. I know that right now you're probably all troubled about the first-day mass-elimination, so let me ease your worries. No one is being eliminated." At that I see the shoulders of almost every boy in the room deflate, the tension leaving them.

"Now, if you didn't have an interview don't worry, there will be many more opportunities down the road. Lunch is being served soon, and then after that you can go relax. We will be starting with dates bright and early tomorrow! Now I hope you all have fun today. See you soon." With that I turn and leave the room letting the doors slam shut behind me.

The first day was done.

Only another 3 to 4 months to go.

A/N: Hi everyone! If you celebrate halloween, I hope you had a great time. I went as a pirate, and my school's official instagram reposted me, which was a very proud moment for me. Here we meet all the selected I've received so far. If you asked for an extension try to get your forms to me by Friday! I'm going to try to start updating twice a week, but depending on school I'm not sure if I'll be able to stick to it. Have a great week!