Here we are! The Selected is about to begin, and the Prince will be calling the lucky girls during the Special Report Show.
Hope you will guess right on who's this crazy curly grandpa in the audience ;)
Previously: A mother and her young daughter flee from a castle at war, leaving behind their whole life. Thirteen years later, they built a new life in Illéa. Katy is twenty-one years old and works as a teacher of language and history of Hestéi. Her mother, Grace, works as a maid at the Royal Palace. When the eldest heir of Illéa, Prince Henry, 23, unexpectedly announced he would have a Selection, Katy thought this decision would not affect her life. Moreover, she has a secret that must be kept at any cost.
The Princess managed to find a moment in her schedule for our class. She also found some time to invite me to the Special Report Show in two weeks. She was so enthusiastic about it and kept asking me to apply... and I kept saying no.
The Saturday of the lucky draw arrived in a blink of an eye. My mother, some friends (all colleagues actually) and I were sitting in the rows of the Palace's Report Room, especially transformed for the occasion.
Cecil, the Prince, and the royal family all together were here. I heard someone behind me said the setting looked exactly just like in his memory. I turned around to see who was talking and saw a grandpa with wild curls. He smiled at someone on stage and I saw Erik, the Prince consort, waved at him.
They might have met during Queen Eadlyn's Selection, I guessed.
The show quickly began and, as usual, Cecil danced his way in and briefly summarized this week's news. At the break, a horde of people rushed to the stage and arranged a new setting while the channel broadcasted a clip showing Prince Henry randomly picking up envelops from boxes. A woman behind the camera started a countdown and Cecil smiled at the camera, on air.
The usual small talk with the guests was shortly replaced by an interview with Prince Henry.
"How are you feeling, Your Highness?" he asked.
"I must admit, I am more nervous than I expected. I could even forget how to read!" he joked.
"I'll help you out, don't worry, Your Highness," Cecil said with a wink. "We all craved for this moment to arrive. Ladies and Gentlemen, let's discover the identities of the thirty-five beloved daughters of Illéa that will have the greatest pleasure to enter the Selection," he announced.
The Prince walked to the desk, took the first envelope, and called the first name as the lucky girl's picture appeared on TV. A cute blond with grey-blue eyes named Susan. Prince Henry went on as the audience cheerfully applauded every Selected. All those girls were pretty in their own way. Caroline was wearing sunglasses, which was a bit strange. Someone suggested she was blind. Emma was curvy with brown tight curls, the total opposite of Jenny: skinny with platinum blond hairs.
Suddenly, my heart missed a bit. The audience exploded as the Prince called my name. Me. Catherine Smith. My picture appeared on screen, confirming it really was me. God knows where they got this picture but most importantly, how did my name end up in this envelope?!
Teddy, one of my oldest friends, grabbed my shoulders and gasped:
"You didn't even tell me you participated!"
She was shaking me like a coconut tree, overexcited. Princess Mary was hardly hiding her joy as well, and our group of friends congratulated me. I saw the old man behind us smiled at me, thumbs up.
The Prince did not seem to understand why the audience went this crazy. He glanced at the public in front of him, and, for a split second, our eyes met. He probably did not see me and continued to name the contestants, as I remain shocked.
The show finally ended after Cecil's brief guidelines to the thirty-five Selected. I ran outside as soon as the live red light switched off. I didn't want to be bothered, congratulated, or anything. I didn't really know how it happened, but I found myself in the Park, by the lake. I thought out loud and might have ended up shouting a few "How the hell?!"
The park was already closed for the night, and I decided to stay here until I calmed down. Once home, I turned off my phone that kept buzzing for the last hours and fell asleep like a baby.
I woke up the next morning when an army of officials knocked at my door. I spent the whole day explaining to them I did not want to be in the Selection, I did not send my form, and that someone must have put a joke on me. But it was too late. What was done was done. Once my name was sorted out... there was no turning back.