CHAPTER 7

Saturday, the 22nd of November

Princess Carolynn Schreave

I can't focus anymore. It's a Saturday, which means I technically have the day off from work, but I never finished my emails that were supposed to be sent out before the report last night. I had spent too long trying to figure out a stupid word puzzle. Not that I was going to tell anyone that. There was no way I was going to get another time management lecture from my mom. I've had enough of those over the years. It was better to suffer in semi-silence.

Jenna could hear my whining, actually, anyone could for all I care. Just as long as it didn't get back to Mom.

I slam my sticker-clad laptop shut. One day I'll get a new laptop and not immediately affix glossy stickers to the back, but that's for when I'm Queen Carolynn, not Princess Carrie.

Anyway, the Angeles Florists Association can wait a few more days for their thank-you letter. I have some different things on my mind.

"Jenna?" I call, knowing that she's somewhere in my chambers. She always is. What she busies herself doing is beyond me, but I don't really care enough to find out. I'm just happy to have a personal maid to attend to all my needs.

"Yes, Miss?" She asks, straightening her black maids uniform. Personally, I didn't think the uniforms were all that bad. A plain long-sleeved black dress with tights in the winter, and a white apron over it. Plus, they could wear their hair however they wanted, a definite upgrade from those ugly caps I heard that the maids used to wear.

"I'm going on a date. Can you send a note to the head of security saying to get a few guards together, I want to go to that roller skating rink. Maybe have him call in advance just to be safe." I suggest, waving my hand airily.

Jenna nods quickly, "Of course. Should I tell Lindsay to come?"

I sigh, "That's probably a good idea. Make sure to stress the point that she has to dress appropriately. Something she would wear around Teddy or Aggie. Actually, on second thought, just say Teddy. She might push the boundaries if we go with a 12 year old as the limit."

"Of course, Your Highness. I can even send over an outfit for her."

"Perfect. That's perfect. I'm going for a walk, can you tell me when everything is ready? Then I'll invite some of the boys onto the date."

Jenna raises an eyebrow, "Another group date?"

"After that one with Markson, I don't think I can stand being alone with any of them." My date with Markson, or Malachi or whatever his name is had gone less than spectacular. I didn't know how to put it politely, but the guy had no personality. He even was in financial school to become an accountant. It took a lot of effort to stop myself from laughing when he said that.

"His name is Micheal." Jenna tells me.

I wrinkle my nose, "No it's not."

"No offense, Your Highness, but I am completely certain that he's named Micheal." Jenna says seriously, her dark brown eyes filled with concern.

"Maybe." I pause, "Probably. Oh well. People that are boring don't deserve names."

"If you say so." Jenna agrees easily. That's the difference between Jenna and someone like Micheal, if that's even really his name. Both will end up agreeing with me in the end but at least Jenna makes the conversation interesting.

I end up strolling around the gardens, shivering in the chilly air. I made the mistake of wearing another one of my thin, flouncy dresses. Pretty? Of course. Warm? Nope, not at all.

"Your Highness!" A voice calls, tearing my attention from the few late-blooming roses.

"Oh, Nathaniel." I say waving back. My voice is not nearly as loud as his in an effort that he won't come over. Of course he does though. It's the selection for heaven's sake. Ugh. I guess I have to be polite to my guests. "How was your week?"

"That posture test was not my favorite," he says, "Though, the history test wasn't my favorite either." He finally concedes. Well, does he like anything?

"Really? I thought the history quiz looked pretty easy." I comment lightly. I hadn't actually taken the test, but I had looked over the sheet while the selected work, and I would be willing to wager one of my tiaras that I would be able to finish it in under 10 minutes. Maybe 15 if it was an off day for me.

"For you, I guess. The essay portion is what killed my score. Apparently it was all over the place." Nathaniel chuckles, his laugh sounding deep in his chest.

"Your essay, you mean?"

"Mm-hmm. Mr. Brooms said it lacked organization. Well, he put it in much nicer words, but the same sentiment applies."

"Of course he did. It's a good thing Pearl- I mean, Lady Van Der Witts wasn't grading your essay. She probably would have made a few people cry." I meant it as a joke, but I know that it's true. I don't understand why hiring a scary teacher is beneficial for anyone, but I guess it's really not my problem. After all, I happen to have perfect posture and an excellent grasp on the history of my country.

Nathaniel smiles slightly, "Probably. I don't know, I think I would've done about the same if my essay was graded by her. It's the same feedback my professors have been giving me for years."

I pause, considering his words. Last time I checked, pirates didn't have professors who grade them on essays. Unless he was taking plundering and pillaging 101, which I sincerely doubted.

"Professors?" I ask, "I thought you were a pirate."

"Sailing instructor. Yeah, I am, but I'm also doing college by correspondence at UMiami." Nathaniel informs me. University of Miami, I've heard of that school, and not to be blunt, but I would have hoped that he might have gone to a more...distinguished school. Ah well, not that it really matters anyway. He's just one of the few people I've met that haven't attended one of the more selective colleges.

Ack. I'm being mean. Stop it, Carrie, stop! "Lucky. I love Miami."

"You've been?" Nathaniel asks in surprise.

I look at him for a second, "What do you expect me not to take vacations?"

"I don't know what I expected," he answers honestly. I can't tell if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but at least I've exceeded some expectations.

"So, do all your essays lack organization?" I ask, using his word.

"Pretty much. I usually forget about them and turn them in late, so I have to rush and work on them." Nathaniel admits, pressing his lips together.

"That sucks." I empathize. I'm not planning on falling in love with Nathaniel, but he shouldn't flunk out of college. But, at the same time I'm not about to dedicate a huge chunk of my time to writing some blond sailor's essays. So what can I...Ooh! That's an idea. "What if you make a study group with all the guys from the selection who are in college?" I suggest brightly. Perfect, now Nathaniel can gett his work done and I don't have to help. It's a win-win situation.

Nathaniel smiles broadly, "That sounds like a good idea. Do you know which of the guys are in college?" He asks. Uhhh, actually I don't know. I had blanked on most of the first meetings.

"I think Divesh is in pre-med at University of Allens. And Henri is studying industrial engineering. I'm not sure about the others." I say truthfully. To be completely honest, meeting 35 people in one day wasn't the best decision. I know it's tradition and all, but people only have a limited attention span, and 35 introductions is definitely pushing it.

"I'm not sure of many others either." Nathaniel admits bashfully. "We haven't been here all that long, and it's been hard to get to know everyone."

It's been hard for him to get to know everyone? Granted, I hadn't given it a great effort, but still. I had a hell of a lot more to do then he did. Plus write emails to some over-paid florists. "Maybe you can ask around." I suggest.

"I'll try." Nathaniel pauses, shaking his head, "So, Your Highness, why were you in the gardens?" He asks, changing the topic.

"I needed a break from work." I answer.

Nathaniel looks surprised, "It's Saturday."

"Days are a social construct. There are no breaks when you're a princess" I sing-song, "No, I'm kidding. I've been putting this off for days and I don't want my mom to find out."

"What are you doing?" Nathaniel asks. Normally I wouldn't be able to answer that, but I think this time the country would be fine if word got out that some florists were getting thank-you emails. He's lucky I wasn't doing anything actually important, or I wouldn't have answered him at all. I do have some boundaries when it comes to secrets.

"Thank-you notes. Nothing that serious." I say, leaving out a few details. You can never be too safe.

"You're telling me that some thank-you notes have you working on the weekend? You need to relax," he says.

"I'm planning on it. Just as soon as I get the approval from the head of security." I say, tilting my head to the side. Nathaniel furrows his brow, trying to figure out what I meant. Clearly he's not a very bright one. Eh. I still stand by my first-impression that he's harmless.

"Huh?" He asks, confused.

"I'm going on a date later. Or at least attempting to. I sent my maid to see if security would allow me to go to a roller rink." I say airily.

"Why wouldn't you be able to go?"

"I don't know…" I pause searching my brain for reasons that the royal guard may say no. Luckily -or maybe unluckily, depending on the way you look at it- I'm able to come up with quite a few. "I could fall and break my neck. The employees could have put too much wax on the rink and I'll break my wrist. The laces could come undone and I could break my ankle."

"That sounds like a lot of broken bones." Nathaniel comments quietly.

"Meh. I say you let what happens happen. Unfortunately, the security department doesn't exactly share my point of view." I remark dryly.

"Well, I wish you the best." Nathaniel assures me.

"Hm, thanks." I turn around, spotting Jenna leaving the palace out of the corner of my eye, "I guess I'll know either way." I say, gesturing (not pointing because that's rude) to my maid.

Nathaniel nods, clearly not comprehending what I meant.

At least he's trying.

"So, what's the verdict?" I ask Jenna as soon as she's close enough to hear me without shouting.

Jenna curtsies, probably more for Nathaniel's benefit than mine as she approaches us. Jenna only curtsies to me when we're in the presence of other people. You could say that we moved past that point in our relationship. "Captain Twill said yes, with a few conditions."

Of course he did. I groan loudly, "What are they?"

Jenna takes a moment to compose herself before speaking, "First, you have to bring roller skates from the palace. Second, you have to let a guard tie the skates for you. Third," Jenna pauses, swallowing loudly. "You need to wear a helmet."

"A helmet?" I complain. How am I supposed to look pretty with a hunk of plastic covering the top of my head.

Jenna nods slowly, "Unfortunately. He made it clear that this was non-negotiable."

Maybe at the very least I can get it covered in glitter. "That doesn't sound horrible." Nathaniel supplies.

"Whatever." I roll my eyes since my mother isn't around to scold me. "I'll do it."

Jenna grins, "Who are you bringing on the date." She subtly inclines her head to Nathaniel, obviously thinking it would be rude if I didn't invite him. And she's right, it would be. That's why I'm not going to be the one doing the decision making.

"Pick 3 numbers between 1 and 35." I tell Nathaniel.

He looks surprised "Me?" he asks, looking around as if there's someone else that I could be talking to.

I giggle, "Yes, you."

Nathaniel obliges quickly, "Uh, 17, 24, and 3."

"Did you get that?" I ask, turning to Jenna.

"Of course."

"Find out which meetings were those numbers, and tell them to get ready to go roller skating." I pause for a second, "Actually, on second thought, ask if they can rollerskate first. If not, get helmets for them too. I don't need any lawsuits on my hands."

"I don't think they're allowed to sue you, but I will, Your Highness." Jenna promises quickly. She's probably right. I know for a fact that all the selected filled out contracts signing away their rights, bank account, and first-born son.

"Hey, I'm sorry, what's your name?" Nathaniel asks, looking at Jenna. Oopsie-daisies. I probably should have introduced them earlier. Whatever. I have a lot going on, alright? No one can fault me for that.

"Jenna, sir. I'm Princess Carolynn's personal maid." Jenna says, flushing slightly at the question. I guess people don't ask her that too much.

"I'm Nathaniel Wilson." He says, reaching to shake my maid's hand.

Jenna straightens her skirt, "I..I'll go figure out who you're going on the date with. I'll tell them to be ready by 2:45?" Jenna asks, looking for my approval.

It's a quarter to 1 right now, so that works for me. "Sounds great."

With that, Jenna curtsies again, before making her way back to the palace to finish organizing my date.

"She seems nice." Nathaniel comments.

"Oh yes. She's much better than my old one. That one married a guard I think, or something like that. Anyway, Jenna's been working for me since I was 16." I inform him, more than happy to talk about my woes of finding a suitable maid.

Nathaniel nods, "That's good." He clears his throat, "I guess I should let you go get ready for your date." He says courteously. Nice guy.

I smile, "I really don't want to go back to those emails. Besides, I think Jenna has to go figure out some logistics about this whole thing. So, entertain me."

"What do you mean?"

I shrug not feeling like explaining myself. "I don't know, tell me something about yourself. Ooh! What's your social media handle?" I ask pulling out my phone to type it in. Nathaniel looks at my sparkly gold case. I'm not sure what he thinks about it, but I like the way it catches the light. It's my personal favorite out of the four cases I rotate through.

"Oh, here let my type it in for you." Nathaniel takes my phone from me. God, I really hope he doesn't open my mail app. That would be a tough one to explain to the security bureau. "There you go." He says, handing it back to me.

I glance at his profile. It's filled with photos of boats, some pictures of the ocean, and one that I assume he used an underwater camera to take. "Nathaniel saves the sea?" I ask reading off his username.

Nathaniel nods, still calm even at my scrutiny. "Yeah, I'm part of this initiative to clean up the ocean. I go to beach clean ups once a month."

I pause, "Wait. You mean you pick up garbage? Like...With your hands and everything?" I swallow back the bile that rises in the back of my throat at the thought of touching someone else's trash. Or even worse, touching seaweed. Talk about repulsiveness.

"Well, we use tools so we don't have to keep bending over, but yeah, pretty much." He tells me, seeming pleased by the idea. Ugh. Gross.

"Huh. That's really...That's really...something." I sigh, not wanting to be talking about trash anymore. "I have to go. It was nice talking to you." I don't listen to his goodbyes, instead heading back to the palace. I'm almost at my room, when my dad stops me.

"Car, what's this about you going roller skating?" Dad asks, concern etched on his face.

"Yup. I'm going on a date. To a rollerskating rink." I supply, my voice peppy.

"You haven't been roller skating since you were...what? 15 years old? Are you sure you still know how to do it? I think having a sprained ankle within the first week of the selection wouldn't be all that enjoyable." Dad doesn't sound too confident in my abilities, which makes me frown. What is all this with people doubting me today?

"Of course I still know how." I insist. "Muscle memory, am I right?"

Dad frowns, "I don't know about that," he sighs, realizing it's a futile argument. I would have won either way. "Jenna wanted me to tell you which boys are going on your date."

I grin, excited to find out who the lucky guys are. "So? The suspense is killing me?"

"Sebastian Monroe-Reddlyn, you know, Sable and Esme's son. Ryan Forbes, and Thaddeus Lands." Dad tells me.

I frown, "There's someone in my selection named Thaddeus? That's a silly name." I definitely would have remembered if someone introduced themselves to me with a name that stupid. Well, I probably would have remembered. Maybe.

"I think it's greek." Dad says.

"Oh, fun." I say, my voice anything but.

"I thought this whole picking numbers thing was your idea." Dad points out kindly.

"It was, but now I want to redraw. Is it too late to do that?" I whine, knowing the answer to my question. Of course it was too late, and even if it wasn't I would have to date all these guys eventually. Even ones with stupid names like Thaddeus. To be fair though, Carolynn is a hard name to live up to. I never found a name that I liked better.

"Probably. If you really don't want to do it I can tell the selected that you have a stomach ache."

I sigh, "No. I can't do that." Claiming a stomach ache is the coward's way out and Carolynn Schreave is not a coward.

"Alright. Well, I think Jenna is getting a helmet for you." Dad tells me.

I wrinkle my nose, "We still have helmets?" I don't think I've used one of them in years. I guess it could be from storage, but I would have thought that an old helmet would have gotten nixed in one of the spring cleanups.

"No, it's Agnes'. I think she left it at the palace at some point. Anyway, I'm sure she won't mind." Dad says, shrugging. That makes sense. I don't even remember the last time I've ever worn a helmet, in fact I had assumed that they would be taken from the military stocks.

"I'm sure she won't even notice." I say, laughing slightly. Even if Aggie saw a photo in the paper, I doubted she would put two and two together and remember it was her helmet. And even if she did like Dad said, she wouldn't really care.

"Probably." Dad agrees. "Now, do you have to go get ready?"

"I do, I do. I should probably wear pants. I don't want to bruise my knees." I say, looking down at my exposed legs under my bright, floral-patterned skirt.

"That's smart, honey. I'll let you go now." Dad pats my head, making his way back down to his office or wherever it was he was going in the first place.

Jenna is still organizing things for my date, so for the first time in a while, I have to get ready by myself. My closet seems more full than I remember it, and I push past dresses and skirts, to find my jean section. I grab a pair of light wash jeans and a bright pink blouse. It feels weird to pick out my own clothes, but that's the price I pay for coming up with a date so last minute.

Once I'm dressed, I head over to my vanity, surveying my hair and make-up products. I don't bother with my hair, Jenna had tied the front sections back earlier today, and even after the wind in the gardens, it still looked neat enough for cameras. I do my makeup quickly, leaving out the eyeliner after my disastrous attempts a few weeks ago. I don't need people thinking that I have a black eye.

That wouldn't look all too good in the pictures that Lindsay would be showing on the Report this week.

Jenna comes back to my room a little bit later, "Oh! Your Highness, I didn't know you got ready by yourself. I was coming back to help you."

I giggle, "Please Jenna, I'm not incapable of doing my own makeup."

"Of course not, Your Highness." She agrees quickly, never one to disagree with me.

"Which guards will be accompanying me on my date?" I ask curiously. Usually my bodyguard Officer Ortega accompanies me when I'm outside of the palace, but I'd assume that they're bringing a few extra with a few of the selected coming with me.

"Officer Ortega, as normal. The captain also wanted to send Officers Raymond and Jorge just in case." Jenna answers quickly. I really couldn't ask for a better maid/occasional personal assistant. I know she wasn't hired to do things like this, but it really was convenient that she was able to organize dates at the snap of a finger. Maybe she's a witch. That could explain it.

"Great." I say, leaving my musings about Jenna's superb -and possible supernatural- capabilities for my head. "My dad told me who's going on the date with me. This all really worked out swimmingly, huh?" I ask.

Jenna smiles, "Of course, Your Highness. Things usually do." She pauses for a second studying the sky, "Do you want me to do your eyeliner quickly?"

I perk up, "Yes please!"


"Your Highness," A deep voice greets me as I waltz down to the foyer. The man in question is undeniably handsome, with his perfect dark skin, perfect dark hair, and matching perfect dark brown eyes. He's almost as perfect as I am. And that's really saying something.

"Hi." I chirp, hoping that he'll supply me with his name. I have a feeling that me asking wouldn't go over all too well.

"I can't believe we're going roller skating," he says lightly. Great. No such luck with the name. Okay, Carrie, let's think rationally about this. He's definitely not Sebastian Reddlyn-Monroe. I would have recognized him at the very least. Plus, his introduction I actually remember. I don't remember everything about the Ryan guy, but I'm fairly sure he was blonde. So that leaves the one with the stupid name. Thaddeus.

"Not really your thing?" I ask. Oh come on, would it kill him to put a little pep in his step?

"I'm more into skating on ice, but I like roller skating and all. I just can't believe that you know how to roller skate." Thaddeus tells me. Okay. An ice skater I can deal with.

"I never said I know how to roller skate well, but I learned when I was younger." I say, sincerely hoping that I won't embarrass myself. It's not the guys that I'm worried about, more so Lindsay and her camera crew.

As if summoned by my thoughts, Lindsay appears. Thankfully, she's dressed in a black turtleneck sweater, dark jeans, and black boots. At least someone actually listened to me today. To be honest, I had assumed that she would completely disregard my instructions, like almost always.

"Your Highness" she greets me, before turning to the guy who I hope is Thaddeus. "Sir Lands."

"Please, everyone calls me Tex. I have no idea why, but they do." Tex tells her, and by extension, me.

Lindsay grins, exposing her surgically-enhanced smile, "Whatever you say. Now, I hear we're going roller skating?"

"Mmhmm." I say, agreeing with her.

"Shame. I never learned, so we're going to have to film from the sidelines. Oh, and try not hurt yourselves. Nobody wants to see a date end in the emergency room." Lindsay adds as an afterthought. Great. Way to keep things positive there, Lindsay!

Tex grins, "I'll try."

Lindsay pauses, giving Tex the obvious once-over. She must like what she sees, because Lindsay straightens, tossing her blonde curls over her shoulder."Since you're here first, you can choose your helmet. You know, if you need one." Lindsay smiles flirtatiously. Hitting on my date, splendid. Still though, I'm not exactly sure that I care.

Oops.

Hey, I might be a princess, but lying to myself about my feelings is beneath. I have to lie to the public sometimes, it's part of my job, but never to myself.

Tex's grin widens, exposing teeth almost as perfect as Lindsay's and that definitely cost a lot less. I had never asked, but I would estimate that they cost an upwards of 8 thousand dollars. Maybe she even had insurance for them.

"I don't think I'll use one. I'm pretty confident in my abilities," he says. "How about you, princess?"

"Well, by special order of the head of security, I have to wear one at all times." I grumble. It was almost as if Captain Twill doubted my rollerskating abilities.

"I'm sure you'll look adorable with it on." Tex tells me. Hmm. I'm not sure how I feel about that comment. I'm the future Queen, I don't want to be called adorable by someone I barely know. On the other hand, yay compliments!

I smirk, "Probably."

Tex shuffles his hands for a moment, before looking back up at me. "Miss. Holt said I was the first...who else was coming on the date?" Oh, this poor, naive boy. He thought he was getting a solo date. I had hoped that whoever Jenna had delegated the task to would have told the men, but evidently no such luck. Why does it always fall to me to give people the hard truth?

"Uh...Ryan Forbes, and Sebastian Reddlyn-Monroe. Do you know them?" I ask. Maybe by some lucky -or unlucky, depending on the way you look at it- coincidence I would be spared the awkward getting to know you questions.

Tex shakes his head, "Not really no. Ryan was part of the cup stacking competition, but we didn't actually talk that much."

My head shoots up, "Cup stacking competition?"

Tex chuckles, "We did it a few days go."

"No fair. I want to try that." I complain.

"I'm sure we can organize a take two if you want to join in. I can't imagine any of the guys actually being opposed to it." Tex says.

"Perfect. Set it up for Tuesday morning, before lunch." I say airily.

Tex falters, "Wait, you want me to organize it."

I nod, confirming his thoughts. "That's exactly what I want." To be frank, as much as I would like to join in a cup stacking competition, I like the idea enough to sacrifice my precious time and energy trying to set it up. That's a problem for someone else. Preferably, someone about 5 feet 10 inches who goes by the name of Tex Lands.

"Oh...that's...well, I would love to," he assures me. Somehow I get the feeling that he's telling a lie. Ah well, it's really not my problem.

Tex suddenly looks very happy at the approaching footsteps. Happier than I thought he would look. Ryan Forbes and Bas are coming down the marble staircase in the center of the foyer. Both bow to me when they get to the bottom of the steps. I know that there's a 15 minute grace period and all, but for the selection someone needs to tell these boys that the grace period only extends to me. And Mom and Dad I guess. Maybe Uncle Luke and Aunt Quinn. Possibly 2 out of my 3 cousins.

I'm excluding Garnet from that statement. For good reasons of course.

I clap my hands, attracting the attention of the 3 guards, Lindsay and the 2 camera men she had selected, and, of course, my lovely dates. "Everyone ready to go?" It's not really a question, and I only wait for an answer from Officer Ortega. Her's is the only opinion that factors into us leaving anyway.

"The chauffeur is ready, Your Highness. I will be riding with you and the selected in the limousine, while everyone else will be in the town car." Officer Ortega says. Lindsay looks disgruntled by this news, but I pay her no mind.

"Perfect. Follow me." I say to Bas, Ryan, and Tex. I assume the rest of my entourage will get the gist.

The limousine is sparkling in the sunlight, even if the temperature would have been better suited for a cloudy day. I shiver slightly, maybe my choice of clothing wasn't the best.

"It's chilly." I comment as I settle into the limo's tan leather seats. Ryan ends up sitting next to me, Bas and Tex facing me.

"It's 50 degrees out." Bas responds, looking at me weirdly.

"Yeah. That's cold."

"One day you need to come to Waverly," he chuckles lightly.

"Not in winter. I hate the cold." I say. It's true, thank God the capital is in Angeles. I heard that the old government building used to be on the east coast, in whatever state Allens used to be. I would have literally died in the winter. A mild chill is as low down the temperature scale as I can handle.

"Try Yukon." Tex interjects. "That's practically a hunk of ice all year around. It's so different being in Angeles. I can actually go out in November without having to bring a coat, a scarf, and mittens." Tex pauses for a moment, thinking. "I don't know which one I like better."

"Definitely Angeles. Best province to ever exist." I cheer, advocating for my hometown. Because, yes, it is the best province to ever exist. Any disagreements can go to the palace complaint department ie: The pile of junk mail that never reaches my desk.

"I don't know about that one. I'll try to see why you like it though," Bas promises.

"Well, I know Angeles is better than Yukon. Hell, almost anything is better than Yukon." Tex interjects. At least someone agrees with me.

"Ryan?" I ask, turning to the blond.

He looks up from fiddling with his seatbelt. He clearly hadn't been paying much attention to the conversation and by the greenish shade of his skin, I would guess he was suffering from some pretty serious car sickness.

"Belcourt is okay. Pretty rocky, but okay." Ryan says, before putting his head back down.

"You know, looking forward really helps with motion sickness." Bas says kindly.

Ryan flushes, clearly embarrassed. "Oh, um, thank you. How did you know that?" He asks, trying to deflect the conversation from himself. Poor guy. Next time I'll have Officer Ortega bring aspirin if I go with anyone on a date that includes a car ride. Or a boat ride. Or plane ride. Anything that has the word ride in it really.

Bas shrugs, "My mom is a pediatrician. She tells me stuff like that all the time."

Tex regards Bas curiously, "My dad's a pediatrician too. I wanted to do something more with vaccines though. So I went for chemistry, not med school."

"Chemistry." I shake my head slightly, "I always wanted to do one of the labs that everyone was supposed to do in highschool."

Bas laughs, "Believe me, you're not missing much. Titration is too complicated for me."

"Titration isn't really all that important. In the labs you know what all the solutions in the mixture are already." Tex informs us.

"Huh. Good to know." Bas remarks lightly.

Our destination is a large cement building. A few kids are being ushered out of it, looking as if they just came from a birthday party. Officer Ortega instructs one of the two other guards to wait with us, while she goes and makes arrangements inside. Probably just doing a standard sweep and some confidentiality contracts.

Finally, she comes out, opening the door for us. The selected allow me to come out first before following. "How many of you need helmets?" Officer Ortega asks, surveying the 3 men.

"I don't." Tex states first.

Bas and Ryan hesitate for a moment, before cautiously raising their hands. "I need one." Bas says quietly, glancing at Tex. Ryan just nods in agreement.

Officer Ortega motions for one of the other guards to retrieve three helmets from the car. Damn it. I thought that by some stroke of luck she might have forgotten about Captain Twill's ridiculous requirements.

"The camera crew wants to get some videos and photos of you going into the building." Lindsay tells us. She doesn't move from her position leaning against the car, instead flicking her wrist at the three black-clothes people who worked under her.

After filming, refliming, and then filming a third time, we're finally allowed to actually enter the building. The roller skating rink is far from luxurious, but in a weird way, I kinda like it. The carpet is black with multi-colored squiggles decorating it. The walls are painted a trashy purple, giant cardboard cutouts affixed to them. Of course, there's the small selection of video games to the side. The rental booth which doubles as a prize counter is set into the wall, containing all manners of junky light up wands and cheap plastic swords.

"Cool." Bas says, looking at the disco ball projecting glowing rectangles on to the walls, flooring, and us.

Officer Jorge distributes the helmets and skates. He pauses when he gets to me, kneeling in order to tie the skates himself. Another one of the absurd rules imposed on me.

Though I must say, bringing my own skates from the palace has its perks. Whereas everyone else's skates were chunky and an ugly gray color, mine were a pretty shade of pastel pink. My hand-me-up helmet from Aggie is covered in silver glitter, at least I'm allowed to put that on myself.

"Why does your helmet have an A on it?" Tex asks.

I give him a noncommittal shrug. "No reason."

Once we're actually on the large wooden rink, the disparities in our skill sets become far more obvious. Despite Tex's supposed affinity for ice skating, he's much better than anyone else. As for me, if I'm being honey with myself, I would go with a solid 6. At least I'm not as bad as Bas or Ryan who are both sticking to the walls, hanging onto the banister for dear life.

Maybe in hindsight I should have asked people before forcing them to roller skate. Good job Nathaniel! Couldn't he have picked people who could actually roller skate?

After 10 minutes, Bas says loud enough for everyone to hear, "I'm going to go sit down for a little while."

I sigh, I should probably follow him. Forget all the concerns about my selected junk. I don't really care about that. They all have butlers who they can complain to. No, I've been wondering what possessed him to think he could rig his way into my selection.

I mean, he succeeded, but that's besides the point.

Bas looks up at the sound of me shuffling across the carpet so I don't fall. "Hey, sorry about not being able to roller skate and all."

Does he want me to answer that? I'm not about to tell him it's okay. It's my selection, he shouldn't have come on the date if he didn't actually know how to roller skate. I'm asking for the bare minimum here. "Forget that. No biggie." I wave my hand in an all-good gesture. "How long has it been again?" I ask, settling myself next to him. I had barely remembered Bas when he was first brought up to me, but I did some digging and found out that he had been invited to a few parties at the palace over the years.

"6 years I think." Bas says, nodding slightly. That's right. I think my aunt had some type of anniversary party, inviting the ex-selected. Personally, I just thought that was cruel. How could a bunch of her husband's rejects stand around telling them how happy they are and actually mean it. Come on. Aunt Quinn and Uncle Luke had to know that those well wishes were meaningless.

Although, perhaps not in Bas' parents' case. Both his mothers were "rejects" yet they almost were more famous than my extended family. The fact that they left a prince to be together? That's a power move.

Though there was also the tiny problem that they completely cheated on my uncle, so maybe I don't admire them for it.

But still.

Power move.

"Did you really miss me that much?" I ask, teasing him lightly.

"Hm?"

"Oh come on, you asked your mother to ask my aunt to ask me to rig the selection. That's quite a process. I'm happy to know I made that much of an impression on you." I know, I know, I'm making him feel awkward. But that will get the truth out of him quicker.

"I don't know, my parents found love in the selection. It sounded like...a good idea for me too." Bas admits. I refrain from saying that his parents shouldn't have found love during the selection. My gut is telling me that Bas wouldn't appreciate my thoughts. I don't lie to people, but I'm not heartless. I wouldn't make someone feel bad about themselves for what their parents had done.

"What, to follow in your parents footsteps?" Find a nice guy in the selection. Eh. I don't think I would care. I already gave Lindsay free reign over them.

"Yeah.." Bas catches what I'm implying a second too late. "No! No. Sorry, that's not what I meant." Bas apologizes quickly.

"I know you didn't mean that." But maybe it would be better if he did. Breaking hearts isn't my idea of a fun afternoon. "How's life been treating you? Art school, right?"

Bas nods, "Yeah. Waverly Institute of the Arts." Huh. And to think that his mother went to Harvard. You would think he would get in, legacy statues coupled with his parents' fame.

"Do you like it?" I ask.

"Yeah, it's...it's fun. I know it's not the best school in the world, but they have some great programs." I listen, nodding my head. Still, I can feel the gazes of the other two men on us. I stand, more for Bas' benefit then mine. He doesn't need the guys' petty jealousy on day 1. His mother, the one who didn't go to Harvard, was scary. And I didn't feel like dealing with her when I eventually saw her again at a security meeting.

"Wanna go back on the rink?" I ask, wobbling on my roller skates.

Bas sighs unenthusiastically, "Why not?"


"Car?" Henri's voice asks from my door frame. "Jenna said-"

I cut him off, placing a hand over his mouth. "I know. I told Jenna to go get you." With that I remove the hand from his mouth, sitting on my bed. I pat the spot next to me, Henri sits down, placing his arm around my shoulders.

"Why?" he asks, looking confused.

"I hate the selection." I complain bitterly. "And I think I feel guilty about the whole thing? Is that even possible?" I don't think that I've ever felt guilt in my entire life. Usually, things just have a way of working out. Ugh. I hate, hate, hate this feeling. I'm the crown princess for god's sake, and I need to go through this...why?

"I don't know, probably. I would feel bad if I was in your position." Henri says.

"Not helping." I moan.

"Sorry. It could be worse, at least you don't have to deal with Miss Van Der Witts every single day." Henri adds to the pile of complaints we've assembled so far. One of us should really write out a list by the end of this stupid thing.

"Right. She still refuses to tell me anything about the show, and my mom is the one who signs her checks. Clearly she's never heard of loyalty." I whine. That was the only reason why I wasn't totally opposed to Pearl's hiring in the first place.

Henri shakes his head, "At least she doesn't hate you. I don't even know what I did."

"Yes, you do."

"What? Should I have let her carry on the charade that she's related to me?" Henri asks.

"Maybe. She would have liked you more for it."

"You're probably right." Henri sighs, hanging his head. "You think there's any way to make amends?" he asks hopefully.

I could lie, but that's not really my style. "Probably not. Once you reach the level of hate she has for you, there's no turning back."

"Of course there isn't."

"Oh!" I exclaim, "I signed you up for a study group with some of the other selected. Apparently one was about to flunk out of college, so I figured if you all study together maybe he won't end up a college drop out." I exclaim, remembering the conversation I had with Nathaniel earlier. It seemed like so long ago, now.

Henri seems receptive to the idea at least, "Huh. Cool. Oh right, how was your date?" he asks, almost an afterthought.

"You don't even want to know. It was horrible. I had to wear a helmet. Aggie's old helmet. And only two out of the guys could actually rollerskate. One of them, Ryan I think his name is, got carsick on the way over. And Bas -I've told you about him- made me feel so bad about this whole thing." I huff a breath, I can't think about today anymore. "Just kiss me."

"What was that?" Henri asks. My words had gotten incoherent towards the end.

"Just kiss me." I repeat.

He obliges, wrapping one hand behind my head. I press my lips into his, wanting to get the memories of today as far away from my mind as possible. I don't want to be in a selection with all these guys. I don't want Lindsay to sell pictures of me with boys I don't like to the papers in order to cover the costs. Yet, as I continue to kiss Henri, the thoughts get farther and farther from my head.

A/N: We meet another two selected this chapter, Mr. Sebastian Reddlyn-Monroe (If you read tgoac, I know what you're thinking. Please note that this wasn't of my own choice) and Mr. Tex Lands. Also, the first date happened, which yay. I have a lot of plans in store for this story. If you're wondering how Nano is going...it's not awful. I mean, I'm not exactly overachieving, but maybe I'll be able to hit 50k. Who knows.

Have a great Friday, and remember, every day is one closer to the holiday season.