Grayson wasn't sure what to expect from the selection of the envelopes, but he was surprised by his father's seeming passivity. He had thought that each name would be scrutinized, mayors of their hometowns interviewed, and then specific envelopes presented to him as options. After everything the king had said about the importance of the competition, it was hard to believe that he would leave anything to chance.

And yet, sitting in front of Grayson only two short weeks after the announcement on The Report, were baskets of envelopes. Each one was labelled with a province, filled with hundreds of eligible women's applications. Grayson could hardly believe his eyes. He stared at his father, shocked.

"I'm just supposed to… pick envelopes at random?" he hissed, hoping the others in the room wouldn't hear him. It was loud enough from the chatter of everyone else that they probably couldn't. Winter had been allowed in but was seated in a chair in the back, far away from where the important things were happening. She had a permanent scowl etched into her face, but that seemed par for the course, these days. Grayson felt there was nothing he could do to please her, and she only withdrew further when he tried.

"We'll talk about this later," King Monroe said smoothly, smiling around at the advisors and cameras in the room, not even sparing a glance at his son. When everyone seemed to have settled into their chairs, and the cameras had been set up properly, he placed an arm jovially around Grayson's shoulders. Loudly, he said, "Now, don't worry, son. This is the easy part. All you need to do is select an envelope from each basket. We'll tuck them away until this evening, when we'll read them out on The Report."

Grayson tried to smile smoothly. Though he'd been the picture of calm all week, Winter's words kept coming back to him today, for whatever reason. Was his father really foolish enough to leave this to chance? This was more than just about distracting the people and appeasing the masses. This was about selecting a future queen, and his future wife. He was expected to fall in love with one of the women represented by these envelopes. How could they possibly let this be random?

The Selection was more terrifying today than it had been in the weeks since his father had first suggested it. It had been derailed with the train accident, or what they were calling an accident, but it had always been on his mind, something Grayson felt determined to do. He'd been confident it was the right choice. Now, he wished his father had played more of a role in weeding out the options. Baskets of fifty would have been less intimidating. Not baskets of thousands. How could he possibly find a wife among them all?

Still, there were people waiting, and the cameras flashed expectantly. Grayson had to proceed. He smiled around at the small audience. Only trusted photographers, trusted advisors. And Winter, even though she was a brat sometimes, was family. This was a small audience. He could do this.

Grayson went alphabetically, starting with Allens. He didn't want to draw this out or make it too staged. This was for show, certainly, but people would see through it immediately if he tried to make it look like entertainment. He needed to seem to be taking this seriously.

He rifled through the basket briefly, using both hands to part the pile of envelopes. Selecting one from the middle, he handed it to his father, who nodded approvingly. Moving to Angeles, he smiled a bit, then selected an envelope. Province by province, basket by basket, Grayson calmed his nerves as the options dwindled. From thousands to thirty-five. It was manageable, he told himself. He was doing his duty, honoring his country, and methodically taking the right steps towards peace and stability.

Finally, handing the envelope from Zuni to his father, it was over. Grayson smiled hopefully at the crowd of onlookers. Some of his father's advisors gave him nods of approval. Winter, in the back, rolled her eyes, but at least she wasn't glaring at him. He took that as a positive sign. Maybe she was warming up to the idea. Maybe having thirty-five girls close to her age would be good for her.

"Wonderful," King Monroe said, stepping back into the spotlight. Grayson covertly wiped the sweat off his hands onto his pants while his father thanked everyone for attending and ceremoniously handed off the envelopes into Graham's safekeeping, until they would be read on the night's Report.

The room started to clear. Winter stalked off quickly, disappearing with the advisors, followed by the camera crew as they packed up their things and left. King Monroe steered Grayson to the opposite exit, back towards his study.

In private, the two of them sat back down to work. Grayson knew his father didn't have much time, that he needed to be back in meetings soon, but he patiently waited for the king to speak. He understood the Selection much better than Grayson, after all, and would know where to go from here.

"It's best to have a range of castes," the King said. "It's important to demonstrate their cooperation. This Selection might even streamline some of our ideas."

"How so?" Grayson asked.

"So far, we have unanimous agreement amongst my advisors on the implementation of the wage scale. We've been sitting on it a long time, but it's time to enact it. Citizens will be able to receive educational certifications increasing their minimum wages based on their qualifications. It's the first step to solidifying the castes, by creating the illusion of a ladder to climb. Right now, people see only the top and the bottom. We need them to see the middle steps. These educational barriers will remind them that they have to put in the work to succeed, not just jump to the top."

Grayson nodded. His father continued, "All of our applicants needed to follow these guidelines. Their families follow the caste system, intentionally or unintentionally, and they will be models for those around them."

"So you did vet them, after all," Grayson said carefully.

King Monroe snorted. "Vet them? Of course. There were maybe five to ten names actually in each basket. I'm not going to tell you who to marry, you need to learn to make decisions for yourself if you're ever going to take over, but I made sure that only good families were in those baskets. The country depends on this."

Grayson felt some of the tension relax in his shoulders. Five to ten names per basket, all carefully reviewed by his father. Not random, after all. The King must have been up all night studying reports on the applicants to make that happen. Especially since so few people could be trusted to help.

"You are in my confidence because one day soon this will rest on your shoulders," the King reminded Grayson. "Keep this quiet."

Grayson gulped, nodding. The pressure was back on. So many secrets he had to keep and facts he had to keep straight. It was hard to do this all alone.