It had been a few weeks of Enola "living" in the palace. She had now been subjected to etiquette classes, amongst other things, along with the rest of the selected. Early national polls had been taken, and bets had been made to see which selected girl would win. The results for the polls would be announced tonight after we ate dinner. But since this entire competition started, not only had she found a true friend in Benny, but their group of 35 had also gotten smaller. Seven girls had been sent home, and as Enola had predicted, January was one of the first to leave. Her exit was nothing short of what a girl like January was capable of. Yelling . Swearing . Threats of lawyers being in contact. The works .

In fact, right now, as Reese and Enola had found the time to fence, he had been giving her what she deemed to be a hilarious account of their date. By the end of their conversation, they had both been in stitches. She had hardly been in attire to even get into the sport. Still, she grabbed a sword and fenced in her unceremonious culottes and off the shoulder top without a second thought. Reese had taken off his gunmetal grey suit jacket and had inadvertently given her a peek at his toned chest under his ivory dress shirt that had been partially unbuttoned towards the top. She wasn't about to lose for the sake of distractions. No matter how easy on the eyes said distractions could be. Besides , she could multitask.

"You could have given me a warning about her, you know? aren't you supposed to be my wing-woman?"

He nudged her as they calmed down from the laughter. Enola lunged, Reese parried, then attacked. He tried to knock the sword out of Enola's hand, but she deflects the blade, whirls around, and lunges, securing a point for her.

Chuckling, Enola explained her reasoning,

"I am ! I promise, but the reason I didn't was because I wanted you to formulate your own opinion of her before I told you what I thought. You know, to make sure that she and every other girl gets a fair shot at you before I put my two pennies worth."

Reese seemed to consider what she was saying as he ran his free hand through his silky brunette hair,

"fair enough, but a little heads up would have been great."

Reese got the jump on Enola and came in low, obtaining a point and leveling the two scores.

She lunges, but he sees her trick from a mile away and catches her sword and sweeps it in a full circle pulling them together, chest to chest, face-to-face. Enola softly gasped and tries not to be enraptured by their proximity as she looked up at the tall man who currently had one of her hands pinned behind her back. His dark eyes took her in, and she felt bare to him. He was looking at her with such subtle intensity that had she not been held so tightly to his chest, her knees would have buckled. Enola knew she was passed just simply finding Reese attractive. She could admit that much. And his lithe but muscular body against hers was not helping matters either. She also knew she was reddening as they breathed heavily. He looked like he was conceiving a million thoughts at once, and dare she say it... entranced . Her mind must be playing tricks on her. Anyway, Enola needed to snap out of it and act fast! So she did.

"Sorry in advance," she says, half tender, half mischievous. She sees his delicately chiseled face start to contort in confusion. She stomps once on his foot, frees herself as his grip on her loosens, taking his own sword and disarming him in the process, then sees the same face twist into something of agony. He groans in anguish but recovers, though not swiftly enough to grab her again.

"Agh, you play dirty, Holmes," he says as he straitens himself, no signs of actual annoyance on his features.

"Is there any other way to play? Plus, you should know, I play to win," she quips, tossing her dark chestnut locks behind her, a teasing eyebrow raised and both swords pointing at the heir crossed in the shape of an 'X.'

He chuckles as a response and gracefully accepts defeat.

"You most certainly do," he agrees, a fond smile gracing his features as he regained a steady control of his breathing. Their conversation and banter lasted another twenty minutes before they'd attempted to make themselves more presentable for the walk towards their respective chambers to get ready for dinner.

"I'll see you at dinner," he said as she waved him goodbye at her room door.

She had let her ladies work their magic as they prepped and primmed her for something as basic as eating food. Enola didn't understand the need for such extravagance for a meal with other living, breathing human beings like her, but she didn't voice that opinion.

Enola was in love. This cheesecake she was eating was heaven on a plate. She didn't mean to give the weak moan, but it was by far the best thing she had ever tasted.

"Lady Enola?" a voice called.

The other heads in the room turned to the voice, which belonged to Prince Reese. Enola was surprised that he'd address her, or any of them actually, so casually and in front of the others.

What was worse than being called out so unexpectedly was that her mouth was full of food. She covered it with her hand and chewed as quickly as she could manage. It couldn't have been more than a few seconds, but with so many eyes on her, including Reese's parents, the King and Queen, it felt like an eon. Enola noted Lorica's smug face as she tried to clear her mouth. She must have looked like an easy kill in her eyes. Enola tried not to roll hers to show her that she'd been sorely mistaken because she had other matters to deal with right now.

"Yes, Your Highness?" she replied as soon as she had most of it swallowed.

"How are you enjoying the food?"

Reese seemed on the verge of laughter, either from her bewildered expression or because he'd brought up a detail from their very first conversation.

The little prick. He was having fun with this.

She tried to stay relaxed and answered in a saccharine tone that they both knew she was feigning.

"It's wonderful, Your Highness. This cheesecake. . . well, I have a dear cousin who loves sweets more than I do. I think she'd shed a tear if she tasted this. It's marvelous."

Reese swallowed a bite of his own desert and leaned back in his chair.

"Do you really think she would cry?"

He seemed exceedingly amused at the idea.

She thought about it.

"Yes, actually, I do. She doesn't have much of a filter when it comes to her emotions."

"Would you wager cash on it?" he asked quickly.

Enola noticed every girl's heads turning back and forth between her and Reese as if they were watching a tennis game.

"If I had any to bet, I certainly would."

She grinned at the notion of betting over someone else's tears of joy.

"What would you be willing to trade instead? You seem to be very good at striking deals."

He was enjoying this little game. Fine. She'd play.

"Well, what do you want?" she posed.

Then she wondered what in the world she could offer someone who had already had it all.

"What do you want?" he countered.

Now that was a captivating question. Almost as entertaining as thinking about what she could offer Reese or what he could offer her. He had the world at his disposal. So what did she want?

She wasn't a royal or even nobility, but she was living like she was. She had more incredible food than she could finish and the most comfortable bed she could imagine. People were waiting on her hand and foot, whether she liked it or not.

And if she needed anything, all she had to do was ask.

The only thing she really wanted was something that made this place feel like less of a palace. She couldn't ask for her family to visit for obvious reasons . And she'd only been here a few weeks.

"If she cries, I want to wear pants for a week," she gave.

Everyone laughed, but in a quiet, refined way. Even the king and queen seemed to find her offer beguiling. She liked the way Queen Athena looked at her like Enola was less of a foreigner to her now.

"Done," Reese said.

"And if she doesn't, you owe me a walk around the grounds tomorrow afternoon." His eyes were twinkling with mischief. And she would bet hers reflected somewhat of the same thing.

Someone next to her had interrupted her moment with him by making a disapproving noise. Oh. The youngest Holmes realized that if she had lost, she'd be the first girl there to officially get time one-on-one with the prince after the first batch of eliminated girls. Part of her wanted to renegotiate, but if she was going to be helpful—as she'd promised him—she couldn't brush off what would be some of his first attempts at trying to date. Even if they both knew anything between them wouldn't go anywhere.

"You drive a hard bargain, sir, but you've got yourself a deal."

"Xavier?" The butler he had spoken to earlier as they were having dinner stepped forward.

"Go make a cheesecake and send it to the lady's family. Have someone wait while her cousin tastes it, and let us know if she does, in fact, cry. I'm most curious about this."

Xavier nodded and was off.

"You should write a note to send with it and tell your family you're doing alright. In fact, you all should. After dinner, write a letter to your families, and we'll make sure they receive them by tonight."

Everyone smiled and sighed, glad to finally be included in the goings-on. We finished the rest of our dinner and went to write our letters.

Enola would be writing a letter to her cousin and Sherlock (Mycroft could kick rocks for all she cared). She contemplated writing one to her mother simply because she had tried and failed before. Plus, she simply didn't know where she was or if she even wanted to be found. She decided against it and went scribbling away with the stationary Lillian had provided for her.

We were all in the great room, getting ready to watch the first national poll results about the Selection. Once we were all settled, the TV was turned on, and we watched the report. There were the same announcements as ever—budget updates for projects, the progress of the wars, and another rebel attack in the East—and then the last half hour was the anchor making commentary over footage of our day.

"Here, Miss Lorica Billson says goodbye to her many admirers in Cambridge. It took this lovely young lady more than an hour to break away from her fans."

Enola saw Lorica smile smugly as she watched herself on-screen.

She was sitting next to Cassie Lynch, who had hair straight as a bone and so pale blond it looked white as it fell to her waist. There was no gentle way to put it: Her breasts were huge. They crept out of her strapless dress, tempting anyone to try and ignore them.

Cassie was pretty but in a typical way. It was similar to Lorica's style. Enola wasn't sure exactly how, but the image of them side by side prompted the thought, 'keep your enemies closer.' Enola concluded that they'd singled each other out right away as the other's strongest competition.

"The others from the Mideast were just as popular. Amber Bing's quiet, courteous demeanor sets her apart instantly as a lady. As she carries herself through the crowd, she wears a humble, beautiful expression not too different from the face of the queen herself."

"And Benita James of Kent was all effervescence as she departed today, singing the national anthem with her send-off band." Pictures of Benny smiling and embracing people from her home province flashed across the screen.

"She's an immediate favorite of several people we interviewed today."

Benny reached over and squeezed my hand. That settled it; I was pulling for Benny. She needed to win this thing.

"Also traveling with Miss James was Enola Holmes, the younger sister of the brilliant detective, Sherlock Holmes, and revered minister Mycroft Holmes." She rolled her eyes as she felt eyes on her that now seemed to recognize where they had heard her last name from. The anchor made her look better than she felt at the moment. All she remembered was searching the crowds, sad that her mother had yet again not shown up, even for this. But the footage they chose of her searching made Enola appear mature and caring.

Hugging Edith and her cousin goodbye was touching, beautiful.

Still, it was nothing compared to the images of her at the airport.

"But we know where you grew up means nothing in the Selection, and it seems Lady Enola is not to be overlooked. Upon landing in London, Lady Enola was the crowd darling at the airport, stopping to take pictures, sign autographs, and simply speak to anyone there. Miss Enola Holmes is not afraid to get her hands dirty, a quality that many believe our next princess needs."

Nearly everyone turned to look at Enola. She could see it in their eyes, the same look She'd gotten from Lorica and others. Suddenly those stares made sense. Her intentions didn't matter. They didn't know she didn't even want this. In their eyes, Enola was a threat. And she could see they wanted her gone.