Just to clarify, this is by no means an insult to Henri. I adore Henri. If it came down to it, I would probably take a bullet for Henri. I just don't see why Eadlyn would keep him around, other than 'his translator is an important plot point later'. Eady was awfully heartless in her first mass elimination, remember? Henri would've hardly lasted a day.

I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, HENRI I LOVE YOU.

Chapter Four

I took a deep breath as I knocked on the door of Henri's room. I didn't want to do this, not really, but with the serious turn everything in my life was taking, it wasn't fair to waste my time- or his, for that matter. I knew Henri couldn't be my One, by no fault of his own, but simply because of the language gap. As much as I enjoyed Henri's company, it simply wouldn't work to have a Prince Consort of Illéa that only spoke Swendish. It would be better to let him down now, before things went any farther.

From inside his room, Henri called out some Swendish phrase that I could only assume meant something like to, "I'm going to come answer the door now!". He was smiling widely already, but his grin widened even more when he saw me. "Hello! Eadlyn!"

"Hi Henri," I said softly, trying to return his smile. He was so innocent compared to the rest of the Selected; I wasn't sure if he'd be able to tell what was coming. "Could we sit down, please? I have to talk to you about something."

His eyebrows scrunched together; clearly, he had to think very hard about my words. That just made me all the more sure in my difficult decision to let him go. I couldn't imagine marrying someone and needing a buffering period after every word. Even if that someone was as lovely as Henri.

"Talk?" he questioned, comprehending one word out of fifteen. "I?"

"Yes, you," I told him, taking his hand gently and having him sit down at his desk. There was a chance he would cry, so I thought it would be better if he was sitting down. Just in case. "Henri, I'm afraid your time in the Selection is over. I like you, I really do, but…we don't even speak the same language. It would never work out. I'm sorry."

At first, he just stared at me blankly, trying to string all the words together. Eventually, he grabbed one of his English textbooks and paged through it before replying to me. "I…leave?"

"Not exactly!" I said quickly, getting to the more positive part of my speech. "You need to leave the Selection, yes, but I want you to stay at the palace. I want to hire you as a baker."

'Baker' was a word that Henri could definitely translate. His eyes absolutely lit up when I said it. "I stay? I bake? For you?"

"Yes!" I said enthusiastically. "We'll pay you really well, we'll cover all your insurance, we'll hire you a long-term translator and provide English lessons…"

I'm pretty sure at least eighty-five percent of that went over his head, but Henri still jumped up from his seat to hug me. I laughed, mostly because I was just so relieved that he hadn't cried. I really didn't want him to be upset with me. Henri had been such a good boyfriend, and if things were different, he probably could have been a good husband too, but he would be an even better pastry chef. I was sure of that one.

"Thank you!" he exclaimed. "Thank you!"

"You're very welcome," I told him sincerely. "If you don't want to start right away, that's fine. You can move down to the kitchens and bake whenever you like."

Henri grabbed a wooden spoon off his desk (funny, I hadn't noticed that there) and thrust it into the air enthusiastically. "I BAKE NOW!"

There was a lot to be said for Henri's resilience. The palace could not have asked for a better baker.

Fun Fact: I only have 8/10 chapters planned, and one of them I have no clue how to write, so feel free to leave me suggestions. My sister is tired of me asking her for ideas.