By eight o'clock, every one of the twenty-seven girls were standing in front of the fountain in front of the palace in the exact same dress. It was as if someone had pressed copy and paste, and paste, and paste.

It wasn't even that nice of a dress, compared to all of the others we'd been given. It wasn't as though I was complaining—the rose-coloured fabric was still beautiful, and it was a gorgeous style. However, next to the crinoline and jeweled dresses, it was like putting a hundred dollar bill next to a hundred and five dollars and asking someone to pick. Either one was good, but one was just better.

The prince came out through the palaces front doors dressed in a suit so black is matched his hair. I heard the girls reactions to his outfits chorus from the line around me the moment he started making his way down the stairs. The tie that was tucked under the buttons of his jacket was the same rose colour as every one of the dresses that the girls wore before him, and somehow it didn't seem tacky.

He made his way in front of the camera that was set up by the fountain, toying with the cuff links around his wrists.

Naomi clapped, tearing everyone's attention away from the prince and towards her. She stood near the front of the line, the only girl outside who wasn't wearing a rose-coloured dress. "Alright. Some of these photo's will be featured in the magazine, so, smile the biggest and maybe they'll pick you."

She pointed to the first girl in line, one of the girls who's name I had yet to learn, "You, go."

The girl moved over towards the fountain and stopped beside Roman. The photographer began taking shots from the moment she was within the frame, as if he was trying to catch a moment between the two of them. I watched the first few girls' turns, but the repetition of events quickly became boring and I turned away. It was almost a half hour before I was walking over to the fountain.

When Roman looked up at me, he wore the same smug smile he did every other time I saw him. "Noah."

"Prince Roman." I said, clearing my throat as I stepped up next to him. I saw the flash of the photographers camera while I stood there, and I blinked at it. It seemed so much more overwhelming now that I was standing in front of it.

Roman snaked his arm around my waist, and I felt his fingers on my hip. "You look like you're a deer in headlights."

"I feel like I am," I said, laughing. "That's a bright flash. I mean, I get that it's night and all, but that's a bright flash.

He laughed, "Just don't look at it."

"Where do I look?" I asked.

"You could look at me instead," he said, already turning towards me.

I looked up at his face and wondered if my face was as red as Isabelle's had been earlier that day. His smug expression was still there, and it made the simple action of me looking up at his face seem intimate—too intimate to be happening in front of the rest of the Selected.

"What are you doing tonight?" He asked, ignoring the photographer completely.

I swallowed, "Should we be talking while he's taking photos?"

He shrugged, grinning, "Yeah, it's fine. So, tonight."

"It's already almost nine." I said, frowning, "What, exactly, are you asking me to do tonight?"

"Walk," he said, shrugging. "I was thinking we could go on an adventure."

The camera clicked again, and I felt the slow, rhythmic beating of my heart in my chest. Roman made me nervous, but not in a giddy, romantic teenager way—in a terrified way. I swallowed, "Where to?"

"It's a surprise." He said, turning his head towards the camera, he used one of his hands to turn turn my chin, too, and I posed for a few shots with a smile. "So? Is that a yes?"

"I guess," I said, watching as Naomi told the next girl in line to switch with me. I cleared my throat, "Time's up."

"I'll come by your room after the shoot," Roman said, pulling his arm away from my waist. I nodded, already moving back to where Tamara and Yvette were sitting on the steps. I looked back and watched Roman curl the same arm that'd been around me around the new girl.

Tamara and Yvette had both had their photo's taken already, and they were in the middle of the crowd of girls that'd formed on the steps. The only girls still standing were the four who had yet to get their photo's done, and Sierra, who opted for standing to the side.

I opened my mouth to tell Tamara about the fact that Roman had asked me to go out with him that night, but I closed it when I saw Yvette. We had long since noticed that Yvette was one of the girls that was in the competition to win, not to make friends. Still, neither Tamara or I saw that as a reason to abandon her. She was nice, when she wasn't staring daggers at the other girls, anyways.

I decided I'd tell Tamara later, if we got a moment alone. If not, there was always tomorrow, and I could tell her the details on how it went.

When all the girls had gotten their photo's alone with Roman, Naomi arranged us all on the staircase, spacing us out to fill the middle three steps. Roman stood in the middle of the group, completely unfazed by the camera as it clicked.

I knew that his ability to stay calm and collected, both on video and in photo's, had probably been a habit he picked up after growing up in this life. Still, I envied it. I'd been followed by camera's and had my photo's taken so many times over the past week that you'd think I'd be used to it, but I was far from it. Whenever I found myself face-to-face with a lens, I froze.

The photographer was finished after only a few minutes, and the selected were dismissed for the day. When we moved back inside, Yvette and Tamara both found their way back to my side and we moved as a pack back towards the guest wing.

My maids were waiting in my room when I pushed open the door, but all three of them were busy with something. Hannah was sweeping the floors and Penelope was arranging my bed, and Francine was tucked away in the bathroom, probably cleaning up from the bath I'd had that morning.

Hannah leaned the broom up against the nearest wall and smiled, "Out of your dress, then, miss?"

"Uh, not yet." I said, smiling at the curious expression she took on. Even Penelope looked over, and though she always did a good job of making herself look reserved and neutral, she looked overly interested right then. "I have a date."

"Oh, yay!" Francine called from the bathroom, running out with a cloth and spray bottle in her hands. She grinned, "Finally!"

I laughed, "He said he'd come by after the shoot, but I'm not sure when he was meaning. I don't know what we're going to be doing, either."

Hannah turned and looked the window. She frowned, "Well, you're definitely not going outside."

I moved to look out the window beside her, trying to see what she was seeing. Over the past few days, I'd noticed the numbers of guards that were positioned out in the hallways and outside had grown, but outside it looked like there was an entire army waiting. Men wearing the navy and white uniform were standing every twenty feet alone the outer wall, barely visible in the distance, but still visible.

I frowned, "They're expecting another rebel attack sometime soon, I'm guessing."

"Certainly looks that way," Hannah said. The two of us stared at the guards for only a second longer before our attentions were jolted away with a knock at the door. I blinked, and Hannah grinned.

Francine quickly dropped the cleaning supplies she'd been holding onto the floor inside the bathroom, running up to the door. She paused, her hand on the door knob, she turned to look at me and smiled before she pulled it open.

I'd never taken Francine for an actress, but she did a great job of looking surprised when she saw the prince behind the door. The acting wasn't really necessary, but I figured it was just Francine being Francine. Out of all three of my maids, she was the one who was the most open and easy to know, and I'd definitely gotten to know her.

Prince Roman looked different than he usually did. His hair was ruffled in the way it usually was, and his eyes were the same speckled green, but his attire made him look younger. He'd taken off the suit jacket he'd been wearing for the photoshoot, but he'd kept the white button up. The tie was gone, and the two top buttons had been undone, and while he stood in my doorway he was rolling up the sleeves of the shirt to his elbows.

He grinned, "Sorry I took so long. I stopped by my room to get rid of the blasted jacket."

"Didn't like it that much, then?" I asked, moving towards the door. I heard Hannah giggle behind me—I knew it was her because Penelope really didn't seem like the giggling type. At least, not around the prince.

"Not my finest one." He said, moving out of the way so I could step through the doorway. "So, I have an idea, but you're going to have to trust me. Also, can you run very fast?"

"Um, on a regular day, maybe." I said, looking down at my shoes with distaste. The dress that'd been chosen for the shoot was short enough that I could see the heels without needed to pull up the bottom of it. "But not in these shoes."

He grimaced, "You might need to take them off when we get there, then. A quick escape could be necessary."

"Where exactly are we going?" I asked, my eyebrows furrowing.

"Noah, don't you know the definition of a surprise." He winked, and I rolled my eyes. He scoffed at that, "Did you just roll your eyes at me?"

I paused, "Yeah, I think I did."

"At me?" He repeated, looking down at me. "Why?"

"Your flirting really is something." I said, whistling.

He laughed, "The wink was too much, then? I suppose kissing you goodnight when this date is over is out of the question?"

"I really don't feel like contracting that blonde girl's saliva." I said.

He snickered, leading us down the hallways towards the stairs. While we were making our way up the steps, he turned and looked at me, shaking his head, "I suppose I'll just have to ask again when the evening's over—you'll probably have a different answer by then."

"Prepare to be disappointed." I said.

Roman led us up to the top floor and down the narrow hallway. He stopped in front of one of the doors and reached into his pocket, pulling out a bobby pin. My first thought was which of the girls he'd took that from, but I swallowed the question. I watched as he jiggled the metal into the lock and then pushed open the door.

I frowned, "I feel like there's probably a reason that was locked."

"You're probably right," He said, holding it open for me to walk through. I looked up at the staircase that sat inside and frowned. Another door was at the top of it, and I wondered if that one would be locked as well. When I didn't move, Roman sighed, stepping inside and moving onto the first step, "I'll go first then. Come on."

I stayed a few steps behind him while he moved up, listening to the hinges of the door we'd come in through squeak as it closed. The door at the top wasn't locked, and when Roman pushed it open he was blocking my few of whatever there was on the other side.

When I emerged behind him, I blinked at what I saw. We were standing on the roof, and above us there was a black sky full of stars and not a cloud to be seen. Around us, we could see everything, from the city's tall skyscrapers to the ocean that stretched across the horizon. I grinned, "Okay, this is kind of nice."

"Kind of?" He repeated, scoffing. "I'm risking my neck here, and you only call it kind of nice."

"Maybe I'm afraid of heights." I said, shrugging. I wasn't, though the idea of falling to the ground did terrify me a little, but I found his reaction funny. Roman looked up at me with a look of frustration. "Don't worry—I'm not."

"Good," He said, laughing. "They used to keep both of those doors unlocked, but when I started coming up here they started locking it to try and keep me out. Obviously, that didn't work."

"But I'm assuming they don't know that." I said, and he nodded. "Why don't they like you coming up here?"

He laughed, "Oddly enough, they don't like risking I'll become something they have to scrape off of the patio."

I grinned, "Weird. I mean, how important could you be? It's not like your heir to a throne."

"Exactly," he said.

We were both quiet for a minute after that, and I turned to look out at the ocean again. It was easy to make out the line in which the water turned to sky at the edge of the horizon, but I couldn't figure out just how I could see it. Both of them looked black, tinted that way with the lack of sun.

Roman cleared his throat, and I turned back towards him. He had moved back and was sitting on the raised bit of stone that lined the edge of the roof. I moved towards him, but I didn't dare sit next to him—that was too close to the edge for me.

"So, how are you enjoying the selection, Noah?" He asked, running one of his hands through his hair to push back the strands that had fallen over his eyes.

"It's been good," I said, wetting my lips, "I'm going to miss it when you finally kick me out."

"When I finally kick you out?" He repeated, laughing again. He looked up at me as though he were studying me, and I suddenly felt like bacteria under a microscope. "Maybe I don't want to kick you out."

"I have no intention of winning this competition," I said, surprised at how insincere the words felt. I'd have gone to my grave with that claim on me tombstone not a week earlier, but right then I felt like the phrase was wrong. Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad to live a live at the palace and have a closet full of dresses as fancy as the ones I had then, and a prince at my side.

"Why are you even here, then?" He asked, and after a second he held his hand up to keep me from responding. "Wait, I already know the answer to that. It's the food, isn't it?"

"You're smart." I said, raising an eyebrow. "It's the food and the clothes."

"You like the dresses?" He said, pursing his lips. "Personally, I've never worn one, but Olivia says they're horrible annoying to put on and take off all the time. I mean, I know what it's like to take them off, but I suppose it's not the same experience when you're taking it off someone else."

I blinked, looking over at him with shock. He didn't look embarrassed or even red in the slightest, despite the fact he'd just openly told me something that I thought would have been incredibly personal. I felt my cheeks burn red after just hearing the words.

Technically, he'd broken the law. Or at least I figured he'd broken the law. I'd never actually said he'd had sex, but the implication was there in plain black ink. I wondered how he could think he'd make a good kind if he, himself, did not abide by the laws.

I didn't voice my opinions, and I ignored his words instead. I swallowed, "They're nice dresses."

"Yes, I suppose they are." He said, looking up at me. He reached for the hem of the one I wore, and I watched his hands, ready to step back if I needed to. His fingers grazed the fabric, and then he pulled back. I released a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding. "Tell me about your home."

"Okay," I said, clearing my throat. "I live in an apartment, with my mom. It's kind of out of the way of the city, so neither of us go into town that much, but it's nice. I'm from Allens."

"Allens." He repeated, nodding. He looked out at the city behind me, and I watched his eyes dart from building to building. "I want to go to Allens one day."

"No, you really don't." I said, snorting. "It's plain and boring, and there's not much to do."

"Yes, but it's away from here." He said, looking over at me then. He sighed, "I've been stuck in this palace since I was born, and the few times that I'm not here, I'm with my parents at some function or meeting that's probably far more boring than Allens. All I've ever wanted to do is get out of here."

"But you have so much here," I said, shaking my head, "You can't really be taking all of that for granted."

"It probably sounds selfish, especially to a six," He said, and I frowned, "but we've both grown up in different ways. I've grown up on camera, stuck behind four walls and interacting with the same kind of people for nineteen years. You've grown up… I wish I grew up how you did."

I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest. I looked over at him and watched the way his feet kicked the stone under them. I wondered how many people he'd told that to before, and then I realized there probably hadn't been many. I couldn't tell him his hopes and dreams were wrong, because no one's every really were, but that didn't mean I didn't feel as though he was, in fact, wrong.

I thought about if I'd grown up like he did, trapped in the palace and constantly followed by camera's. I tried to put myself in his shoes and see how he must have felt, but I couldn't.

We stayed up on the roof for only an hour or so, and when he led me back downstairs and dropped me off in front of my door, he didn't ask to kiss my again like he'd said he would. He said goodnight and then he left, and I watched him walk down the hallway, feeling every bit as giddy and happy as Tamara had.

It said something that he hadn't asked again—it said that his whole image, the one that made tabloids call him the prince of hell and the girls swoon, might have been nothing but a surface. One that could be cracked.