The girl, who's name I later learnt was Amber, was not at breakfast in the morning, or any meal after. There had been no formal announcement to tell us that she'd gone home, but everyone seemed to realize it pretty quick, just as they did when he sent three more girls home two days later.

When the first week had gone by at the palace, and already ten girls were gone, I began to feel uneasy. Over the course of the past few days I'd only talked to Roman a few times at dinner, when he did the nightly rounds that everyone had gotten accustomed to. None of which were as eventful as the first two were.

Something about that fact was upsetting, though also relieving. It only got unnerving when girls began exclaiming he'd asked them out on private dates, or squealed about him kissing them. It wasn't as though I wanted Roman to take me into one of the darker hallways and kiss the life out of me—because I certainly did not—but something about the fact that I was being ignored made me feel nervous.

Tamara was one of the girls who'd been asked out on a private date, and though Yvette hadn't said anything on the matter, it quickly became clear she was jealous that she hadn't been asked. I liked Yvette enough, and she was nice to Tamara and I, she was just overly into the competition. I couldn't decide whether or not she was into the boy or the crown, but either way she wanted it bad.

I figured that was why when I showed up in Tamara's room that night just an hour before she was supposed to meet Roman, I saw that I was the only one invited. One of her maids pulled open the door and let me in, and I stepped inside to find Tamara sitting behind her own makeup table, a second maid pulling at her hair. She smiled at me through the mirror.

"Oh, I'm so nervous." Tamara said, bouncing her leg. "He told me to meet him out by the West doors, so I'm guessing we're going to go to the gardens."

"That sounds fun," I said, walking over and sitting on her bed. Tamara's room looked a lot like mine layout wise, but her décor was a lot different. While mine seemed to stick with a black, white and grey mix, hers was more vibrant and colourful. "Romantic."

"I know," she said, grinning. The maid who stood behind her was curling her hair into thick swirls that went good with her hair colour. Hanging off of the bed post behind them was a dress made out of the same shade of orangey-red she'd been wearing the first day at the palace.

I whistled, admiring the piece, "You're going to look so good in that."

Tamara looked ready to jump out of her seat, but she stayed still for the sake of the curling iron that the made held so close to her scalp. She looked back at the dress through the mirror, "I hope so. I really just want this to go well tonight."

I smiled, but it felt a little forced. On the surface I was happy and I felt just as excited for Tamara and she felt for herself, but somewhere deep inside there was a tinge of jealousy that wouldn't disappear.

Tamara told her maids to leave ten minutes before eight, and I was shrugging my jacket onto my shoulders soon after. Outside, there wasn't a hint of sunlight in the sky, and through Tamara's window I could see hundreds of stars lighting up the night. I let out a quick breath of air, thinking that it was a great scene for a date.

When I pulled open Tamara's door, I turned back and waved my fingers at her, "Have a good time, tell me all about it tomorrow."

"I will," she said, grinning. "To both of those."

I left and shut the door behind me. At the end of the hallway, I rounded the corner and walked smack into someone's chest. I stumbled back, blinking at the sudden connection between my face and someone's rock-hard shoulder. When my eyes trailed up, I nearly jumped back another foot.

Roman Séear was intimidating when he was standing in front of you at a dinner table, and he was intimidating when he was sitting beside you on live T.V., but he was more intimidating than both of those instances combined when he was standing in front of you within an arms reach. He was dressed in the same kind if suit he'd been wearing in every instance I'd seen him, with a jacket over a button up white shirt.

He looked down at me with green eyes that looked both curious and cold, and I felt a shiver creep down my spine when I met them. He smirked, "What's your name again?"

"Noah," I said, frowning.

He nodded, "Isn't that a guy's name?"

I blinked, squinting at him, "do I look like a guy?"

I watched his eyes trail down across the dress that I'd kept on after dinner, and I felt my hand twitch at my side. Any other guy, and I would have lifted my hand and slapped them clean across the face, but knowing this was a man who could have me put to death for raising a finger, I kept my hand still. I hated myself for the way my heart raced while I waited for him to look up at my face again. He swallowed, "No, I'd say not."

It was quiet between us for a second after that, and I moved to sidestep him, but he shifted and blocked me again. He ran his hand through his hair, "Okay, that was rude. Starting over. Hi, I'm Roman."

"Bye, Roman." I said, stepping past him. He didn't try to block me this time, but it was almost worse to hear his laugh from behind me while I walked. When I neared the staircase, I turned around to check if he was still there, only to see he wasn't.

Penelope, Hannah and Francine were waiting in my room when I went in. The three of them were sitting at the end of my bed laughing when I pushed open the door, and the they all shot to their feet and sobered. I smiled, "don't stop on my account."

"Sorry, miss," Hannah said, pushing up the glasses that were falling off of her nose. "We were just talking."

"Yeah?" I said, moving to sit on my bed next to where they'd been. "What was so funny?"

It took a second for one of them to speak, but Francine chimed in soon enough. She ignored the looks that the two others gave her when she fell back onto the bed and sprawled herself out just like she had before. She grinned, "So, there's this maid who—"

"Maybe we shouldn't be gossiping about this with—" Penelope started, though she was quickly interrupted.

"Oh, who cares." Hannah said, jumping up beside Francine. With much reluctance, Penelope climbed up last, sitting cross legged at the edge of the bed.

Francine glared at her two coworkers, "Can I continue now?"

"By all means," Penelope said, frowning, she turned to me, "just, miss, if you could not mention this to Mrs. Richards or any of the other officials."

I rolled my eyes, "that's like telling someone not to tell before telling them a secret. I wouldn't dream of it."

Francine smiled, "So the maids down in the room—where we sew all the dresses—are always talking about the girls, right? Well, turns out one of the girls in the Selection is continuously asking for enough padding in the top of her dress to make a boy look like he had boobs."

"Francine!" Penelope scolded, her eyes going wide, "You probably could have phrased that nicer."

I snorted, immediately racking my brain for who that could have been. I figured it had to be one of the girls who'd worn the dresses that cut low enough that cleavage spilled from the fabric. I paused, "Some of the girls in this competition really are classy."

"Oh, you have no idea!" Francine said, leaning back so her head hung off the edge of the bed. While she waved her hands around, I noticed her nails were painted bright red. "There's this other girl who asked her maids to get her one of those... easy shavers, you know, for down there, just in case Roman decides to go that far."

I scrunched my nose, frowning. The maids continued to recount the stories they'd heard of back down in the sewing room. By the time they ran out of things to say, I was already yawning and my eyes were half asleep. I took Hannah's help in unzipping the back of my dress, but then I dismissed the three of them for the night.

When I was redressed in my nightgown, I climbed back into bed and fell asleep quicker than I ever had before.

In the morning, I woke up and let the maids work their magic on my tangled mop of hair and my unevenly coloured skin, and then I scarfed down breakfast like it was my last meal. When the girls all left the dining room, Naomi led us into the ballroom.

It looked different than it had when we'd gone in for the Capitol Report, but I figured that was just because there was no longer a stage set up in the middle of the room, nor tens of chairs in front of it. Instead, it was empty.

The room itself was huge, though I'd noted that the first time we went in. The walls had evenly spaced windows that stretched all the way from the floor to the roof, with a great view of the yard outside. Any words that were said inside the ballroom seemed to echo and only get louder.

Naomi stopped walking in the middle of the room, and she turned to face us all. I felt Tamara bump into my back from the sudden stop, and she mumbled a quick sorry just after.

"Ladies," Naomi started, "today we are going to be learning how to waltz. The Queen is talking about having a ball in honour of the visit of the Queen of France."

By then, Tamara had moved beside me and was grinning ear to ear. I smiled over at her while Naomi continued, "Pair up with one another for now—I'll ask to borrow some guards tomorrow when we practice again."

Tamara and I turned to one another almost immediately. It felt weird to know that I'd made a friend here, knowing I wouldn't be here long, and I'd never been able to make one at home. Still, Tamara and I had become fast friends over the first week of the Selection, and I couldn't have been more grateful.

Naomi demonstrated with the one girl who'd been left without a partner, and we mimicked the placements of their arms. While we moved side to side and spun, I barked out a laugh, almost tripping over my own feet.

"So," Tamara said, holding back a smile. Naomi had begun making rounds of the pairs to check up on their forms. I would have given Tamara an on the effort scale. "Last night he comes to get me, right?"

"Right," I said, swallowing as I remembered. I'd been expecting her recount of the events, and though I was still happy to listen, a part of me didn't want to hear anything about her night out with the Prince. "And?"

"We went out into the gardens and we walked around all of the flowers," she paused, wetting her lips, "He picked one of the tulips and put it in my hair—it was so sweet."

I smiled, "That's cute. Odd, considering he seems like such a jerk."

"Okay, I'll admit he does come across as rude and, well, jerky," Tamara said, pausing, "but he's so nice when he's not around everyone else."

Naomi came up beside us and moved Tamara's hand that'd been resting on my shoulder. After watching us take a few steps, she moved on to the two girls who'd been dancing next to us, of whom I only knew one of their names, which was Janice.

The doors at the far end of the room were pulled open, and everyone's attention turned towards the Prince as he walked in. Every girl in the room dropped into a curtsey, and I couldn't help but notice the gasps and giggles that sounded soon after.

Roman wore a grin as he sauntered over to the group, "I heard you were dancing."

"We are, your highness," Naomi said, stepping out from behind the crowd of girls. She cleared her throat, "I'm teaching them to waltz—there's talk of a ball next week."

"Ah, yes," Prince Roman said, nodding, "the one my mother wants to throw for Queen Charlotte."

"That'd be the one, yes." Naomi said.

Roman looked around and swallowed, "So, if I'm not mistaken you've got an odd number of girls here, don't you?"

"We do," Naomi said, motioning towards Isabelle, who she'd been dancing with. "Isabelle here was just dancing with me."

Over the past week, I'd made it my mission to learn as many names as possible. I'd gotten down to only a few left, but they were people that Tamara didn't know either, and so I was almost out of luck. She'd told me that I could simply ask them if I wanted to know so badly, but I told her that I'd rather just look in her magazine instead. I'd meant to grab it from her last night, but I forgot.

"Well," Roman said, moving over to where Isabelle stood. He dropped into a half-bow and held his hand out towards her. When Isabelle slipped her hand into his, her cheeks blazed a red so fierce it was impossible not to notice. "I'll relieve you, Mrs. Richards."

Naomi smiled, moving out to the side of the crowd, she pressed play on the speaker that they'd brought into the room. When the music began, Tamara and I stayed still for only a few seconds to watch the prince waltz Isabelle around as though it was simple. When Tamara and I began again, we were stumbling all over the place, with no idea how to move our feet.

Naomi came over to try and help us, but for the rest of the lesson we were hopeless, despite her aid. When we left the room to get lunch, Roman left the group to attend to his own daily activities, and Tamara leaned towards me, dropping her voice to a hushed tone, "I'm so jealous of Isabelle right now."

I laughed, looking back at the girl as soon as Tamara mentioned her. Isabelle was walking with a skip in her step, over the moon—the smile on her face was wide enough that I would have assumed she was the happiest girl on earth.

Sandwiches had been prepared for us in the dining room, already served at the table. As per usual, we ate lunch without the presence of any of the royals—that was the meal that they took alone, somewhere else in the palace. Who knew that they'd need time alone and away from the 27 screaming fangirls that they lived with?

Yvette came over to me after she'd finished her own meal bending down behind my chair so she could talk into my ear. I listened while I chewed on a mouthful of ham sandwich. "Tamara has been getting really close to the prince, hasn't she?"

I nodded, "Kind of. They went on a date last night."

"Huh," Yvette said, standing up straight. She stared across the open space in the room to Tamara's seat at the other table. She was absorbed in a conversation with one of the girls that sat beside her. "Lucky her."

I smiled, shrugging. Yvette stayed next to me for only a few more seconds before she went back towards her chair.

One of the maids came in when everyone was done with a bag in her hands. When everyone turned to look at her, she cleared her throat, "Um, I have mail."

One by one, she called out names written on the fronts of the envelopes and girls went up to collect. I wasn't surprised when she yelled my name, but I jumped up from my seat and almost tripped on my way over to her when she did. I grabbed the letter and uttered a small "thank you" before running back to my chair and ripping the paper open.

My mothers script had always been irregularly pretty to me, and when I saw the letter written in her handwriting, it suddenly made me feel homesick. I'd missed her the entire time I'd been there, but seeing something like the letter made it all hit me in one fell swoop.

Dear Miracle,

I'm missing you so much, but getting your letter made me so happy! I'm glad everything is as amazing as we'd thought it was. I'm going to need details on all of the food they're serving you in your next letter though, because I'm really curious about that.

Tell me more about the prince—have you seen him much? Is he as handsome as he seems on T.V.? How about the King

I miss you more and more every day, and as much as I'd give anything to see you, I hope you stay there until the end. You're so beyond worthy of being Queen. You have a heart of gold.

I love you Noah,

Mom.

I let out a breath, smiling down at the page while I folded it back up and clutched it in my hand. I'd mailed her a letter only a few days after the first day, and I was eager to send her another one.

When Naomi came in to tell us we could have the afternoon to ourselves, I ran back to my room to put the letter away somewhere. My maids were nowhere to be seen when I stepped inside. I beelined towards the makeup table at the end of the room, tucking the letter into the top drawer. My hand lingered on the handle when I closed it, and I smiled to myself.

I pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, sitting in front of the mirror, I began to write.