My first night in the castle had felt like heaven. The sheets on my bed were made of fine satin, and the duvet of a cotton so soft and warm I thought my skin was undeserving of feeling it. I'd had maid's take my dress away when I changed into the nightgown that'd been provided—they wanted to help me, but I told them I'd been changing my own clothes for years and didn't need any aid.

I slept the night away without so much as stirring, and when Penelope, one of the maids, came in in the morning to wake me up, I wanted nothing more than to keep sleeping.

Still, Penelope insisted I wake up, and eventually I did. I sat up and stretched my arms high above my head, yawning. When I looked over at her, I saw that she had an awkward smile on her face, and in her hands was a hairbrush that wasn't my own.

"I have my own hairbrush," I said, pointing to my bag. When I'd come into my room after the Report, it's been sitting on the chair of the make-up table.

"They bought you one," Penelope said, shrugging. "Now we have to make quick work of getting you ready today—breakfast is in just a half hour."

I sighed, climbing out of bed. Penelope latched her hands onto my shoulders and pushed me towards the makeup table. She took my bag and dropped it on the floor by my bed, ushering me to sit where it had been. When I slid onto the wooden chair, she started untangling my hair with the brush she'd been holding.

It took no time at all for Penelope to brush my hair, when it had usually taken me ages before. Then again, before I'd had more than two feet of hair, and now I had only a fraction of it. I reached up and touched the ends of it when she was done. It fell just under the line of my shoulders.

"What would you like to wear today, Miss?" Penelope asked, walking across the room and pulling open a closet that seemed ten times bigger than what could have been necessary. Still, when she pulled open the sliding wooden doors, fabric and crinoline spilled out like springs. "I'm thinking just a casual dress will do, but still fancy enough that you're catching eyes."

"You pick," I said, spinning on my chair and watching her smile and look through the options. All of the dresses that were there seemed beautiful—she could have closed her eyes and picked one and I would have been happy with it.

Penelope ended up pulling out a red number that I looked at with skepticism. The dress itself was gorgeous, but I'd never been a fan of myself in red. Still I slipped it on and turned to her to do up the zipper on the back. When I turned around and looked in the mirror, I was pleasantly surprised with what I saw. The red was so deep and so nice that it complemented my pale skin instead of the alternative.

It was long, though unlike the dress I'd worn last night, this one fell straight down without any poof whatsoever. It had long sleeves that ended three-quarters of the way down my arm, and a neckline that rose as far as my collar boned. It was modest, a look that I doubted many of the other girls would have been going for.

Last night, there'd been an array of dresses that ranged from short and simple to big and bejewelled, but many of them had been dangerously low cut. I wondered if some of these girls were aiming to be Romans personal doll rather than wife.

"That looks so elegant," Penelope breathed, clapping. She couldn't hold back her smile, "I approve."

I laughed, nodding softly, "alright. I'm good to go, I guess."

Penelope made me wait until she could put a few coats of mascara and eyeshadow onto my skin before I made my way down to the dining room, but I didn't protest. When I finally left my room, I was surprised to find that I knew exactly where I was going. The route from the dining room to my bedroom had somehow mapped it's way out in my brain, and it took me only a few minutes until I was standing outside of the open doorway.

The only people in the room were girls of the selection. There had to have only been half of the girls in the room so far, but almost all of them were sitting and looking bored with the lack of things to do. I found my way to my seat and frowned at the little card that'd been put in front of my plate. My name was printed on the small white piece of folded paper, in cursive letters that seemed entirely too fancy.

When I slide into my seat, I noticed the camera that was set up in the corner of the room. Naomi stood just beside it, talking to a man who I assumed was the director.

The girl to my left—the one with the nasty habit of biting her nails—was already sitting when I made my way over. After a moment or two of silence, I looked over and smiled, "I'm Noah."

"I know." She said, pointing to the white card in front of me, "It says so right there."

I frowned, feeling her hostility. I turned back to facing in front of me, but not before reading the card that sat in front of her—Harriet Fordes. Obviously, Harriet was not looking to make friends.

One by one, girls flooded into the room and took their seats, and when only one empty spot remained, Naomi started talking, her voice echoing across the walls of the room. "This is going to be televised, so please be on your best behavior. When the Royal family enters, you will all stand, curtsey, and take your seats only after they have. Understood?"

There was a wave of 'yes' that went around the room, and Naomi seemed satisfied with this. The man with the camera took the device off of the stand and mounted it onto his shoulder, ready to film the royal entrance.

The last girl sauntered in just on time, running into her seat and falling back just a few moments before the King and Queen came in, followed by Prince Roman and Princess Olivia. Every girl in the room rose to their feet and dropped into a low curtsey, waiting until all four of them took their seats before we did.

The Prince didn't start off with a speech as he had for dinner, and instead the food was brought in right away. I had no protest to this—my stomach felt as though it was going to start growling any second.

The plates were towered with bacon and tarts and hash browns arranged in such a way it felt wrong to pick at it. Every time I took a bite, I felt a wave of guilt and pleasure when I tasted the food. The chef's at the palace had a talent, that much had become clear quite quickly.

Prince Roman didn't make rounds like he did the night before, either. The entire breakfast, though delicious and enjoyable, felt awkward and quiet. The girls talked in whispers, as though they were afraid of being heard. The king and queen conversed by themselves, but from the way they'd both look up and zero in on one girl at a time, I figured they were talking about us.

When everyone was finished, we left and found ourselves in the drawing room. Naomi told us we had an hour or so of free time, and that we could spend it doing whatever we wanted, as long as we stayed out of the North wing and didn't bother the staff. Tamara and Yvette decided to stay in the drawing room and watch television, but a need for fresh air made me make my way back to the West wing and head out into the gardens.

The sun was bright above me, and I could feel the heat of it on my shoulders. Knowing I'd always been the type to burn under too much sun, I told myself I couldn't spend more than twenty minutes outside, unless I ran back into my room and asked a maid to get me sunblock.

The gardens were arranged in such a way that it looked both beautiful and elegant. There were marble statues every so often, and just beyond the line of hedges that the tent had been set up next to the day before, there was a man-made pond that stretched out in a long rectangle. In the middle of it there was a bridge, crafted with an iron railing that matched both the window fixtures of the palace and the front gate, entwining in little black vines.

I'd been so focused on the layout that I almost didn't see the girl that was kicking her feet in the pond only a few feet away. I could only see the back of her head just then, but the long black locks gave her identity away—that, and the tiara that sat on top of them.

Olivia had lifted her dress so as not to get the ends wet while she swirled her feet around in the blue water below her. The bond was lined with stone of some sort, and so didn't look too worried about getting dirty. A twig must have snapped under my feet or something, because her head whipped around and her eyes landed on me.

"Oh," I said, forcing a smile. "Hi."

"Hi," she said, eying me with interest. She turned her head back towards the pond, but she didn't look nearly as relaxed as she had before. She looked tense.

I cleared my throat, making my way around the bushes of flowers that blocked me from her, I stopped only when I stood beside her. With skepticism, I pointed towards the water, in which I couldn't see the bottom. "Are there, like, fish in there? Because I don't want to put my feet in that if there's fish in there."

She snorted, pointing out at the other end of it, where lily pads and rocks lined the edge. "They swim over there, usually."

"So, none are going to, like, touch my feet?" I said, and she laughed. I smiled, moving to sit next to her, I pulled the end of my dress up to my knee's and let my calves soak in the water. It was cold compared to the air around us, but not cold in the way that it was uncomfortable. I let my eyes close, and my face look up towards the sun. "This is relaxing. I might have to steal this spot from you every now and then."

"It's not really my spot," Olivia said, "my parents actually hate it when I come out here."

I frowned, opening my eyes and looking down at her. She was toying with a strand of her hair while she spoke. "They say it's too close to the wall, and there aren't enough guards out here."

I nodded, understanding, "They're worried about the rebels."

Olivia nodded her head, looking up at the wall. From our spot, we could only see the top of the stone blockade—the rest was hidden behind shrubs and tree's and whatever else the gardens had. Olivia looked over at me, then, "What's your name?"

"Noah," I said, "and should I be calling you Princess or your majesty?"

She chuckled, "Olivia works fine."

"I feel like Naomi will have my head if she hears me calling you by only your first name." I said, picturing the woman and her lesson on etiquette. She'd told us over and over again that titles were a must—that we must always address the royal family with their titles.

"Yes, but some how I think she won't be able to get angry if I say it's alright," Olivia said, laughing, "I'm somewhat certain I outrank her."

I snort, "Maybe just a little."

We were quiet for a minute after that, and all that could be heard was the sound of birds mixed with the sound of Olivia's feet swirling around in the water. I leaned back and let my weight wall onto my elbows, enjoying the sun and the relaxation. My thoughts travelled back to home, where I'd have been cooped up indoors all day scrubbing the mud off the floors of the King's house.

I lifted my feet up out of the water and stood, shaking the water off of one foot and then the other before I slid my feet back into the low heels that Penelope had picked out for me that morning. Olivia watched me closely, "Are you leaving?"

"I was just going to ask you if you wanted to show me those fish," I said, pointing off in the direction of the rocks and lily pads.

She paused, letting out a breath before she stood and picked up her shoes. She didn't bother putting them on like I had. "Alright."

I followed her over to the other side of the pond. She dropped her shoes close to the edge of it and peered into the water—unlike the other end, it was easy to see the bottom here. Catfish roamed the water, swimming back and forth under the surface. I grimaced, "I hate fish."

"You hate fish?" Olivia repeated, looking into the water, "Why? They're harmless."

"Yeah, but, I mean," I shuddered, "they have such beady eyes, and they're so weird."

Olivia laughed, "If you're scared of fish, then, as much as I hate to say it, I don't know how good of a Queen you'd make."

"Why? Is there lots of fishing involved in the job?" I said, holding back a smile. Somehow, I doubted Queen Tiana would have spent a lot of time fishing on a boat.

Olivia grinned, "No, but there's probably a lot of things more frightening than fish."

"You're probably right," I said, nodding, "I guess it's a good thing I don't want to be queen then."

As soon as I said it, I wondered if that was the wrong thing to say. Technically this girl was the Princess, and the sister of the boy who I was supposed to be wanting to marry. Still, when Olivia looked up at me, I didn't see any sort of judgement, I saw a face on the brink of laugher.

Olivia snickered, "Finally, someone with sense! I've been wracking my mind as to how there are 35 girls in this palace right now who want to marry my brother. I mean, he's Roman. I don't see how anyone would want to marry him."

I laughed, about to respond when I heard yelling coming from the other end of the pond. The king stood beside one of the palace guards, looking at Olivia and I. I couldn't see his expression, and I hadn't heard what he said, but whatever it was made Olivia grimace. Slowly, she slipped her shoes back onto her feet and flashed my a toothy smile, "It was nice meeting you, Noah."

"You too," I said, watching her run back towards her father.

The king draped an arm over her when she ran up beside him, and the guard followed the two of them out of the gardens. I stayed outside for only a moment longer, staring into the pond at the fish that swam inside it, before I started inside as well. I tried to look back at my shoulders to see if they were burnt, but as far as I could tell they were fine. Still pale and not even tinted red.

I made my way back towards the drawing room, but as I was maneuvering my way through the halls, I stopped just shy of one of the corners. I heard squealing coming from that hallway, and it was more the excited kind than the afraid. I frowned, turning and continuing to walk anyways. I kept my shock free of my face when I walked right passed the prince, in the midst of kissing one of the girls. It took a second glance to recognise her as the girl who'd been late that morning, and I wondered if she'd been late then because she was up to the same thing as she was then.

I knew they'd both seen me, because as I continued down the hall without giving either of them my time of day, I heard the girls squealing stop, and whispering fill the air instead.

There'd been a moment yesterday when I thought that maybe the Prince wasn't all the negative things I thought he was, but I knew now that he was. If he thought himself above the law that he was meant to enforce—the one that protected unmarried girls from lusty-eyed men—he wasn't fit to rule a country. I felt dirty even being a part of his selection, if it meant I was to be grouped with women with so little self-respect as to throw themselves at him like that so easily. It was only the second day!

I kept what I'd seen to myself when I came into the drawing room and took a seat next to Yvette and Tamara. The two of them were in control of the T.V. remote, I gathered, as it sat on Tamara's lap. All around the room, girls had their heads turned towards the screen, where a re-run of The Selection was playing just for those who'd missed it yesterday. My part had already gone and passed, but it made me feel a little lightheaded to know that the nation had gotten a second chance to watch me mumble and fumble for words.

When Naomi came into the room a little while later, she took only six girls with her when she left. Tamara and I shared a look of worry, and I turned to watch the door swing shut as the girls left.

Yvette didn't look very troubled by them being led away—in fact, she looked pleased. I moved a little closer to her and frowned, "Do you know where they're going?"

"They've probably been dismissed." Yvette said, smiling smugly. "That's six less competitors for us, though, right?"

"But it's only been a day," Tamara mumbled, looking back at the door with distress. "He can know for sure that he won't like those girls after having barely talked with them?"

Yvette shrugged, "You've never seen a guy and just known he wasn't your type?"

I laughed, but I sobered quickly. Six girls were having their dreams crushed right then, and it was not the time to be laughing. I turned to Tamara, "She's got a point."

The room got quiet when Naomi came back alone, and no one needed her to explain what had happened to the other girls. Everyone knew then—we were down to 29.

I didn't know any of the girl's that the Prince had dismissed, but I still felt bad for them. By the end of the day, they'd be gone, having only gotten one night in the palace, two meals and one conversation with the Prince.

But, then again, a small part of me wished Roman had sent me home with them.