Notes:

allen Vth – Good idea for the conversation between Star and Ophelia – was planning to include one at some point, but they'll probably be a few conversations between the two. I like the idea of them having their own 'silent war'. Magic doesn't exist in this AU, sorry – so the wand isn't here. But there might still be some sort of heirloom. Glossaryck is in the fanfiction, don't worry. A bit OOC like all other characters but shares some parallels. Thanks for the words of confidence!

Bit longer this one, hope you enjoy~

After he was given the news about his destiny to become one of the Chosen, he carried himself home, half in disbelief of what had just occurred, half of concern about how his mother would take the news. Some teens he passed by gave him high fives and congratulations, others simply gave him a dirty look as they hadn't been chosen. Nobody had expected it though, the chance of a peasant gaining a position in the Choosing was nothing short of a miracle.

Once home he attempted to quietly creep in, however, the door wasn't on his side as it let out a massive creek once moved even an inch. "Marco, are you home?" It was time for Marco to let out his own massive sigh.

"Yeah mom, I'm back." He tried to sound as normal as possible, but mothers have this strange sensing ability when they can tell if something's wrong.

"What's going on?" She called from the back room.

He paused for a moment before returning, "Can you come and sit down?" It took her a moment to come into the room, there were a few *Bangs* and *Dings* to each of which Marco winced slightly.

"Ok…" She let out whilst lowering herself into a slightly crooked chair. "What is it?" Angie said with a small breath afterwards.

"Well… You know how the choosing was today..." He started.

"Oh crap! That was today wasn't it, you went, didn't you?" Her voice was full of worry and concern, if you didn't show up it was treated as a sign of disrespect towards the royal family, you could easily be fined or arrested – neither of which the poor mother could take: Emotionally nor physically.

"Yes yes, I went…" Her breath relaxed at this info, but she proceeded to stare at him. Waiting for him to continue whatever train of speech he had started.

…

…

"Welllll – I uh—I ended up be—hmm- "

"Spit it out dear, we don't have all year."

"I got chosen." He managed to batter out after a few miserable tries.

Where his face had dropped all sign of life, her face had taken in that extra life. She took a moment to process but her joy was evident, Angie's face slowly started to shine brighter and brighter before she let out a wild howl of 'Wows!' 'Hows?' and 'Prouds.'

The Diaz boy was taken aback by his mother's enthusiasm to this news, "Wait so you're not worried?"

"Worried? At what?" She asked inquisitively.

"The royal family." He began, "I mean they haven't exactly done anything to sort our life out. It's their fault that we live in poverty. They are without question the most powerful people in the entire kingdom and I'll be staying with them! They could have me hanged at the snap of two fingers!" His voice had become more erratic and breathless.

His mother brought him into one of those motherly hugs, the kind that make you forget any pain or reason and just leave you in another human's embrace. One which is full of kindness and love, one that can calm you even when the world is on top of you. Which was exactly what Marco had needed right now. "Shush." She cooed, "Marco. You can't blame everything on the royal family, some things are just out of any person's control; they have an entire kingdom to take care of."

"It's not fair." A single tear escaped his eyes as his voice began to crumble, "Why do they get to have it all, and we're left with nothing…"

Butterfly Castle

The door of a stuffy room moaned open, to which princess Ophelia stepped in. It led to the library, more specifically for what she was looking for, the part on all the citizens staying inside the kingdom. She had taken an interest to her candidates, after receiving the list, so she wanted to know more about what kind of people they all were. She was certain that she could find information from looking at which house they all came from. Those at the higher class of society get a 5x more chance to be picked for the Choosing, middle-class get a 2x multiplier and those in the 'worker' category have 1 entry into the pot. With 60% of them not even being entered at all.

"Glossaryck." The princess demanded. To which the old book keeper simply raised his head from his novel slowly.

"Yes?" He asked with an indifferent attitude which didn't feel like the kind of attitude you should have when talking to royalty.

'Filthy old bastard' The princess thought to herself. "Where can I find the book of houses?" Her head was held in an upright manner, looking down upon the old man.

He may have been old and in the presence of a self-proclaimed deity, but he had enough backbone to play coy. "15, 32, 3." He responded. A puzzled look was contorted to the princess' face, she was about to ask what he meant but as her lips opened, Glossaryck continued, "15th Row, 32 Columns Down, 3 Books up." She let out a *hmmpf* and stormed off.

A few moments later Star walked in, to which Glossaryck greeted kindly. "Hey Glossaryck, whatcha readin'?" She asked with her usual bubbly persona.

"Oh, I'm just catching up on the 'Montrialg War', quite fascinating you know."

"Sounds boring." She replied with a look of dread and boredom on her face, to which the old man laughed.

"Anyhoo, I brought you your favourite pudding!" She cried as she held both hands out to deliver the gift. The man's eyes immediately lit up and he hungrily grabbed the food – thanking the princess for her present. The two had always been close, when her parents started to treat her like she wasn't part of the family anymore, he was always there to give her guidance. She loved him like an Uncle, and vice versa for Glossaryck.

"So…" The princess started, "what's your opinion on the 'Choosing' this year?"

Once the candidates are drawn, it's Glossaryck's job to do a background check on all of them, make sure that they aren't some serial killer or anything.

"Well, it's quite interesting – this year we have two worker classes entering the competition—"

"TWO?!" She blurted out, forgetting her environment to which Ophelia turned her head around the corner and motioned a 'shush' gesture.

Glossaryck chuckled to himself, "Yes my dear, two. 7 high class and 4 middle class." However, that was all which was discussed about the 'Choosing', the two ended up falling into a friendly chat over their mutual disgust with Ophelia.

An hour had passed, and Star had to say goodbye to Glossaryck, they both saw each other off and the little butterfly began to hop her way to the exit, once out she fell into a more natural stroll. That was when she had noticed a pair of feet following her, curious, so she turned around to find Ophelia walking behind her with her usual smirk in full-bloom.

"What do you want?" Star asked, her tone shifting from a friendlier one to a cold, annoyed one.

In retaliation, Ophelia's face pouted and she sweetly said "Nothing, just wondering if you and the old fart have done it yet?" Another twitch crept its way into Star's eye.

"Funnily enough, no we haven't. But how about you and that bar boy? You've been a bit of tart to him lately, haven't you?" It felt good to be able to retaliate for once, she had just heard this news a few days ago. "It'd be bad if news spread about you being unfaithful to a husband you don't even know yet."

Ophelia's face shifted from one of joking-ness to seriousness, "Oh? The little butterfly has fangs, does she? No matter, nobody would believe you anyway. Ask yourself, would your parents believe the 'embodiment of formal conduct' or a 'loose canon with no situational awareness'?" Even though Star hated to admit it, she had to – 'phelia had a point, no way would her parents believe her, they don't even see her as a true member of the family anymore.

"So, let me be clear Star." The aforementioned Butterfly looked up, "You tell anyone - I mean a single living soul, about Markus – and I will end you so completely that you'll be banished from this Kingdom."

…

"Now run along dear. I'm busy with stealing your crown and your husband." A fire was lit in Star's heart, this girl – no, this monster, had dared to come into her life. Take her crown, her family, whatever happiness she had before, and raze her mentality. Ophelia strolled past Star, giving her a hair flick when walking by.

Once Ophelia was out of hearing range, "Just wait you pompous, arrogant, little-"

Next Day – Diaz Home

In order to make sure that there could be no sabotage from other candidates or terroristic groups, the police arrived in the morning to take Marco in a wagon to Butterfly Castle. The wagon itself was a marvel, tinted glass with different pieces of history buried into their curves.

"Did you pack your toothbrush? And your comb? And your gloves, you never know when it'll get cold there—oh! And your pillow!" Angie was frantically scrambling around the house.

"Dinnae worry Ma'am." A police officer stated, "The castle will provide all necessities and clothing." Mrs Diaz felt a lot less calmed down by that then the police were hoping for.

"It's fine mom, I'll be fine. If it gets too much, then I'll just forcibly be bad, so I can leave." His mother grabbed him into one last hug.

"I love you, Marco."

"I love you too mom." She began to slightly stroke his hair for a moment before the officer coughed and mentioned that they should be getting moving if they don't want to be late. Two carriages awaited them outside, one was to take Marco to Butterfly Castle, the other was to take Angie Diaz to a resort, a few hours away from the city.

"I'm so proud of you Marco… Now. Go win over a princess!"

"Aye aye captain!" He shouted with one final salute before they both entered their individual wagons and taken off separate ways.

2 Hours Later – Marco's Carriage

"So," the officer who was riding in the carriage with him looked over, "any idea how long the trip is?" Marco asked.

"We'll be there in 4 hours." One downside of living in the city where Marco was from was that there wasn't really anything of important close by, hence the long trip.

"How'd you become an officer?"

"Ah, takin' an interest in me ar'ya? Same story for all, felt that there be a higher calling to me on the field."

"Really?"

"Haha, no kid. It pays decently, my family need the money so here I am. The name's Pete. Pete Broadway." He had a gruff, manly, Scottish voice.

He extended his hand out to Marco who happily received it, "Marco Diaz."

"Ay wee rascal, ever seen the princess?" Pete asked.

"No… A bit scared to be honest. Knowing how they could have my head off and no one would bat an eye."

"Aye, I 'ear ya lad. Is a wee bit scary that someone holds such great power."

3 Hours Later

The hours seemed to melt away, Marco had made a new friend on his way to a possible execution, or at least what felt like it. "Say, have you ever met the princess?" Marco asked.

"No, not me. One of my squad mates over in Chesterson, aye he met the princess. Said there was another lass there in the back… But one thing I can tell ye – keep on yer guard boy. Apparently the good ol' princess isn't as friendly as it might appear." The warning hadn't done anything but scare Marco even more. Here he was just getting mentally prepared to face the royalty but then gets told the princess is out to take heads.

"Oh wouldja look at that!" Pete said before pointing outside to a large castle. "We made it 'ere faster than I thought we would." As Marco turned his head to face the castle he was almost blinded by its ginormousness, if you thought the carriage was fancy, then you might have a heart-attack just looking at it.

Once out, Pete helped him grab his stuff, most of the candidate were already here, apart from 3 who were yet to come. They said goodbyes and Pete left for wherever his next job was. He scanned the competition, whatever warm blood he had in his body after seeing the castle had just been frozen by the others. Most were wearing high-quality formal wear, whereas Marco could only scrape together his father's old uniform from when he went to school. It was a formal school, so he was lucky that it wasn't too out of league compared to his other clothing.

"Hello there." Marco heard a friendly voice and turned to the direction only to find a brown-haired, glasses-wearing, slightly tanned boy standing next to him.

"Oh hi there, you a chosen?" Marco asked, returning the friendly tone.

"Well, you know how it goes - feeding some seagulls one day, and then all of a sudden I see my name on the list of the Chosen." The boys face went blank as he remembered this piece of intel, simply staring into an uncaring void.

"Which class are you from?" Marco questioned.

"Ah me? I'm just a working class citizen, don't stand a chance at winning this thing." Marco's face had slightly lit up at hearing this, he wasn't the only one! He had someone else that he could talk to, someone that understood – to a degree, what he was going through.

"Same here!" Marco practically shouted, making a few heads turn his way who then instinctively put hands over his mouth. "I'm a working-class too!" The other boy's face mirrored Marco's, for one working-class to be chosen was a miracle. For 2? It was nearly impossible. "Marco Diaz." The Diaz stated as he held his hand out.

"Alfonzo Dolittle" The other boy said as he took Marco's hand.

Few things:

Tart – someone who is acting a bit promiscuous (sl**ty) when they aren't.

Also, I did like the idea of bringing in Pete for this chapter, maybe he'll return later. Who knows? And I wanted to try giving the other characters I introduce something a bit more memorable about that, hence the reason why I chose to give Pete a Scottish accent. I tried to keep it so that you can understand what he's trying to say by just using common sense. 'Dinnae' meant 'Don't', 'Wouldja' means 'Would ya' etc etc.

Please review, it gives me a lot of motivation to keep writing, and feel free to leave some constructive criticism. Sees ya later~

Oh and before I leave, little tidbit – while I was writing the conversation between Glossaryck and Star I had a coughing/choking fit.