Chapter Ten

Reporting for Duty

Dillon intercepted Imogen right as she was leaving her room. "Hey, I need to talk to you."

"Can't it wait until after breakfast?" While she said the words jokingly, she meant them. She didn't want to miss another meal after last night's dinner.

He pouted. "I thought I was more important to you than pancakes," he complained.

"Hm, I don't know about that." He gave her a look, and she relented. "What's wrong?"

"So, you know how I'm part of this Selection thing now?"

"I did know, yes—" she deadpanned, but he continued as if she hadn't spoken.

"We aren't allowed to leave the palace unless we accompany the princess," he said, huffing slightly. "Which is ridiculous. I live here."

This was news to Imogen. "Wait, really?"

"Yes, really."

"I didn't know that rule applied to you."

He sighed. "Well, it does. So who can you beg to change the rules? Or at least find a way for us to go out?"

"I'll see what I can do," she said, frowning. "Is there a specific reason you need to leave…?" Dillon liked his freedom, but something else seemed to be at stake here.

"Yeah." He quietened. "It's one of my friends from uni. Spring."

"Spring?" she repeated.

Dillon didn't talk about his specific friends very often; general descriptions were all she had been privy to in the past. It was her first time hearing this name.

"She worked on a fashion collection for this brand, and it's launching in a few weeks. I really want to be at the launch party to support her, but these stupid regulations won't even let me leave the palace," he said.

She frowned, fidgeting with her necklace. "Did you try asking Rosemary?"

Dillon nodded. "She said she doesn't have that kind of authority."

"Your parents?"

"Same thing. I think it's more of a security matter." Letting out a sigh, he turned to her with pleading eyes. "Just please tell me you can fix this."

"I'll try," she said. "I mean, I am the princess. This is my Selection."

He sighed dramatically. "Thank god. Do you know how embarrassing it was to get stopped while I was trying to drive my own car out of the garage? I promised half the boys McDonald's, too."

"McDonald's?" she echoed. The heir to House Noel trying to drive his neon-yellow car to McDonald's was not a mental image she wanted to dwell on. She wouldn't expect anything else, though. "Why on earth would you want McDonald's?"

"Hey, sometimes I'm just craving Big Macs. I don't need your judgment. The guards crushed my dreams anyways."

"And you promised half of my Selected McDonald's?"

Despite how genuinely distressed he seemed by this situation, she had to fight to hide her smile, unable to imagine her Selected trying to get McDonald's through Dillon. Then again, considering what she knew of the Selected so far, maybe it wasn't that surprising.

"Are you laughing right now?" he asked incredulously, though his eyes still twinkled. "Because you shouldn't be. They were so disappointed. You should've seen Emory's face when I told him I didn't have his fries."

She snorted. "Welcome to my life." Then, cocking her head at him, "Wait, are you all friendly with my Selected now? Last I checked, you said they hated you."

"I mean, I haven't known them for that long, but… they're actually not that bad."

This admission surprised her. She had expected the men to be even worse when they weren't putting up a front. "Really?"

She was met with a shrug. "I don't know how they feel about me right now, and there are still some tensions, but they're much more pleasant than I expected. Some of them definitely seem ambitious, but they've mostly been civil to each other."

"Civil," Imogen repeated, remembering Colin's words during the outdoor breakfast.

Dillon's mind seemed to go in the same direction. "The worst it ever got was probably around the same level as Colin's behavior from that breakfast, according to Cedric, at least." He looked uncomfortable at the memory. "Other than that, it's a competition, but it hasn't been much worse."

"What about in general? What are the interactions like?"

"There are a few boys who are more popular among us. Most people get along well with Elias," he said. "Connor's also pretty funny. Oh, Caleb has a lot of energy, so he's fun to talk to. And many of us like Ash, though he's not everyone's cup of tea."

Interesting. Those men came from a variety of backgrounds, with Elias's teaching job, Connor's distinguished family, Caleb's work with animals, and Asher's prior fame. They did seem like some of the friendlier candidates—or were, at the very least, good at appearing that way.

"What else?"

"Oh, something funny I noticed is that Cade and Aegon always wear gloves. An interesting fashion choice. You have some Elsas in your Selection." She gave him a blank look. "Never mind—it's a movie reference."

She took mental notes. It looked like having Dillon in the Selection was proving to be even more useful than she had expected. "Is there anyone I should be concerned about?"

"Honestly, they're all pretty polite to me. Almost extra-nice. Maybe they assume that'll give them a leg up, since they know we grew up together. I'm not really part of the competition anyways. But…" He paused. "You witnessed Colin's attitude for yourself the other day. I'm not sure any others are openly hostile. Andres and Bailey are on the quieter side, sure, but they haven't been very open about how they feel."

"That's good. Let me know if any of them cause more trouble," she warned, wincing. "Especially Colin."

Dillon's face grew serious as he nodded. He must have known that the Council had forced her to bring back Colin. But instead of asking about it, he suddenly seemed to remember something else.

"Ah, right." He clasped his hands together. "In terms of things to worry about, Vasilios has been hanging around the Men's Room. Thought you might want to know that."

Vasilios? Imogen tried to hide the way she bristled at the name, remembering the past week's events. She didn't want to run into him anytime soon, even if nothing was stopping him from being in the Men's Room. "Oh?"

"I don't know what he's up to, but he's there quite often, usually reading a book or something. He doesn't really engage in conversations. It doesn't seem like he has any sinister intentions so far."

The so far wasn't lost on her.

She was grateful that Dillon had entered the Selection, so she could have these conversations without worrying about what truly went down in the Men's Room. If any of these men were in cahoots with the Council or working against her, their combined forces would hopefully be enough to uncover any nefarious schemes.

Instead of thanking him for the information, though, what came out was, "Then keep an eye out for me."

But what if neither of them were perceptive enough? What if she played right into the Council's hand?

I won't let that happen.

"Imogen. Can we talk?"

Imogen turned to see Florence hovering by the wall. Keenly aware of the emptiness of her own stomach, she sighed. "Sure."

Dillon gave her a half-smile, shoving his hands into his pockets. "See you at breakfast."

"See you," she echoed, before turning to her stepmother. Florence's eyes followed Dillon down the hall with a knowing smile on her face, which Imogen shifted nervously at. "What's the matter?"

"My birthday is in two weeks." It wasn't easy to forget, given that each royal birthday was celebrated with an elaborate ball. "The original plan was to cancel the usual ball entirely since the Selection is happening right now, but Rosemary suggested that we host it anyway. I wanted to hear your input."

"A ball? So soon?" Imogen frowned. "Are the Selected ready?"

"It is quite early, but it would be a good way to see how the Selected fare in public events, no?" Florence suggested. "A test of their ability to conduct themselves around influential people."

"But… what if one of them makes a scene?" Recalling the incident between Colin and Cedric, she shuddered. "I'm not sure all their etiquette is up to standards." The last thing this Selection needed was some bad press involving the Selected making fools of themselves.

Florence didn't look very fazed. "Have a little faith in Rosemary. I'm certain the Selected will behave themselves. It's an opportunity to see who's unfit for this life, as well." She paused before adding, "If you're okay with it."

I think you're seriously overestimating these men. Instead of voicing that out loud, Imogen nodded. "Alright."

"Thank you. It would be good to make the announcement at breakfast, so they have enough time to prepare. Or would you like to make the announcement?"

"You can do the honors," Imogen said, turning to make her way to the dining hall. After a brief pause, she heard footsteps behind her, indicating that Florence had started following her.

Imogen usually didn't mind balls. There was a lot of small-talk and schmoozing involved, but some of the guests were pretty interesting, especially those that had occupations outside of politics. After all, a ball was where she had first met—

Nope. Think about something else. The upcoming ball, the upcoming ball, the upcoming ball…

Something in her gut told her that this ball was going to be disastrous, but… Maybe some good would come out of it. While she wasn't on Eden's level, she did enjoy a nice dance.

Oh god, the men would have to learn how to dance.

At the end of breakfast, Florence stood, calling for attention. "As you may know, my birthday will be on the Monday two weeks from now. There will be a ball hosted in my honor. As guests at our home, I am cordially inviting you all to attend."

Some jaws dropped. Dillon looked excited. Asher's eyebrows had shot to the top of his head.

But there were also plenty of men who looked less than enthusiastic. As Imogen caught sight of Cedric's grimace, she remembered her plans for the afternoon.

"You're sure this is allowed?"

"Relax," Imogen said. "We won't wander too far, and we can call the driver if anything goes wrong."

With his hands in his jean pockets, Cedric looked worried, but still far more at ease than in a suit at the palace. "But, I don't know, aren't you celebrities worried about being recognized?"

University Avenue was filled with pedestrians, and with their hats and sunglasses, they blended nicely into the crowd. Imogen looked around and shrugged. "We look like normal college students. No one will spare us a second glance."

Cedric relented. "If you say so. Your Highness," he added quickly.

It was her first "public" date of the Selection, she supposed, but they were going undercover. Rather than forcing Cedric to deal with the media attention, she wanted to see him in a space where he might feel more comfortable. Surely, the area surrounding the University of Angeles was less intimidating than the royal palace. "So, we have a few hours. What do you want to do?" She hoped they wouldn't get lost, considering she had rarely been here before.

"Uh. I don't know." He shifted his weight, eyes darting around. "Let's just walk around for now?"

"Sure."

They made their way along the row of small shops in front of the university. Cedric paused at a storefront window, peering inside. "Is that… chocolate?"

"Looks like it." Imogen glanced up at the store's sign. "Why do they sell chocolate in a university shop?"

Surprisingly, Cedric grinned. "Well, I dunno, but I want some."

Before she could reply, he pushed the door open and entered, and she quickly followed. Inside, there were mannequins proudly wearing university merchandise—she was pretty sure Dillon owned several of these hoodies—as well as a host of other souvenirs. She had no idea why people would want to buy stickers with university logos on them, but to each their own.

Cedric made a beeline for the shelf with chocolate. However, after reading the price tag, his face fell.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I, uh…" He cleared his throat, running a hand through his messy red hair. "I think I forgot to bring my wallet."

"Oh, that's fine. I can pay."

Cedric visibly relaxed. "Really? I mean, you don't have to…"

"It's just chocolate," Imogen said. She dug into her purse for her wallet. "Don't worry about it.

"…Right." Cedric glanced at the label. "Just 'smooth and creamy milk chocolate, packed with honeycomb pieces, made from sustainably grown cocoa and handcrafted in Angeles.'" He paused. "Can I get a bar for my sister, too? I bet she'd love it if I sent her one."

"Of course," she assured him. He grinned and grabbed a second bar. "How old is your sister? Is she still in Sumner?"

His smile turned more wistful. "Sixteen, and yeah, Mairin's at home. She was super bummed about that. Keeps begging me to tell her about Angeles."

If the cashier recognized them behind the sunglasses and hats, she didn't say anything, and Imogen successfully paid for the two bars of chocolate. On their way out, they passed a rack full of hoodies that read University of Angeles in the school's signature blue.

Following Cedric's gaze, Imogen turned her attention to the hoodies as well. "You could get one for Mairin, too," she suggested. "Maybe, she could become a student here."

Instantly, his demeanor changed. He snorted loudly. "Yeah, and maybe, pigs could fucking fly—"

Their eyes widened at the same time, and he groaned. "Oh, shit. Sorry. I mean… My apologies—"

"Hey, it's fine." Imogen waved it off. "I won't eliminate you for swearing. Though, maybe be a bit more careful around Rosemary."

He chuckled. "Man, that's a relief. I would've fought you if you did."

Fought me? Imogen frowned. Like, actually, or—

Before she could dwell on his words, he had already pushed open the door. She rejoined him outside, where they continued walking along the shade provided by the storefronts, Cedric swinging his bag from the university shop.

"What now?"

Cedric's gaze fell on the café across the road. "I could go for a coffee right now," he suggested.

The bell over the door rang gently as they walked inside and were hit with a blast of air conditioning. The café was fairly empty, with only a man in line before them.

The man cleared his throat. "Can I get an extra-large, half-whole milk, one-quarter one-percent, one-quarter non-fat, extra hot, split quad shots—one-and-a-half shots decaf, two-and-a-half shots regular—no foam latte…"

Imogen's eyes widened. "What the fuck?" Cedric muttered under his breath. She didn't comment.

…with whip, two packets of Splenda, one sugar in the raw, a touch of vanilla syrup, and three short sprinkles of cinnamon?"

The poor barista hurriedly rushed to make the man's order, as Imogen and Cedric exchanged incredulous looks and tried not to laugh. "Please tell me you're ordering something less crazy than that," Imogen said.

"I can't pronounce half this sh— stuff," Cedric said plainly. "Just get me an iced coffee with milk. None of that 'three short sprinkles of cinnamon' bullsh—" He groaned. "Anyways. Thanks. God, rich people are so weird…"

Imogen raised an eyebrow but turned to the barista. "A regular iced caramel macchiato, and an iced coffee with milk, please. Oh, and one of those chocolate chip cookies."

Soon, they were sipping their cold drinks by the window. "So, how often do you get to go out?" Cedric asked.

She blinked. "Hmm?"

"Like, go into the city, do some shopping, get coffee." He seemed genuinely curious, looking around to make sure nobody was within eavesdropping distance. "You don't see the princess hanging out with commoners very often in the news."

She shrugged her shoulders. "I've gotten pretty good at avoiding the media. But you're right. I don't get away from the palace very often."

"Wow, that must suck."

Imogen nearly choked on her cookie. "Pardon?"

"I-I mean, the palace is great and all," Cedric amended quickly. "Seriously, it must be amazing to live there. The facilities, the food, everything's perfect. But you really just sit inside all day?"

"It's my life," she cut in, feeling somewhat defensive. "I have a job to do. At the palace."

He swallowed hard, then sipped his coffee again. "Right."

They were quiet for a few moments. Apart from visiting August's apartment in Angeles, she really didn't go out very often. But there was nothing wrong with that. Her life was at the palace. Her past, present, and future were at the palace. She didn't need constant interaction with the outside world. (Besides, judging by the coffee she was drinking, the palace's was still the best.)

Cedric cleared his throat. "So. Why did you bring Colin back?"

"Uh." Imogen's brain short-circuited. "Sorry?"

"Colin Eaton, you know, one of your Selected, eliminated at breakfast then suddenly brought back before lunch," Cedric said dryly. "I just want to know: why?"

Was he asking her to explain herself? "This is my Selection," she said, sitting up straighter. "With all due respect, I don't have to justify my decisions to you, Sir Cedric."

"Sorry." He didn't look sorry. "I just… I don't get it. He's a judgmental ass."

She was really not in the mood to defend Colin. "Colin's comments were uncalled for, yes, but I think his intentions—"

"—were to humiliate me because of my background," Cedric snapped. "Since day one, he's been acting like he's better than the rest of us, just because we didn't grow up with silver spoons in our mouths. As if people like him—people like you—aren't the reason for this country's inequality in the first place."

"Hang on." Imogen tried to keep her voice from rising. The barista gave them a weird look. "How is this my fault—"

"Your family has done barely anything to improve the situation since my parents' generation," he accused. "You just sit there in your palaces, patting yourselves on the back for being great rulers, when you've helped maybe a fraction of the people you're meant to! Nothing has changed for over fifty years. When are you going to start caring?"

She flinched. "We have programs in place—"

"We don't need programs." Cedric scowled. "We need meaningful reform for people at the bottom of society. The education system is pitted against us, and those that need the education aren't getting it. I'm bad at Rosemary's history lessons because I had to drop out of school to make sure my little sister had food on the table. Forget the University of Angeles. I'd have to win five Selections to have enough money for that."

Imogen's cheeks burned as she recalled her earlier comment. "I… I see, but you don't need to be yelling at me—"

"You need to hear the truth," he said. "I thought you were different from your family, and that you actually wanted to be the best queen possible, but I guess I was wrong. Because you're willing to overlook that people like Colin don't care about us. I guess you don't care about us."

She took a moment to let those words sink in. How dare he accuse her of not caring about this country?

"If you hate us so much," she finally managed to ask, "why even sign up?"

His reply was immediate. "Survival. Each cent I earn here provides a better future for my family. And," he looked down, "I was hopeful about you, but now I see that you're just a disappointment."

A disappointment. Heat rushed to her head. "In that case—" she stood up— "you can consider yourself eliminated, Sir DunBroch."

All of his bravado disappeared in an instant. She didn't stop to look back, as he rushed after her. "But, Imogen—"

"—That's Your Highness to you," Imogen corrected without looking back.

"Your Highness, I need this money."

"You should've thought about that before yelling at me over coffee."

He groaned in frustration. "Is this really how you're responding when someone tells you the truth? You're not even going to think over what I've said? You can't deny that this country needs someone to take action!"

"No matter what your intentions were, Sir DunBroch," she took a deep breath, spitting out the words, "I don't appreciate having my decisions questioned, my family insulted, and being called a disappointment."

Cedric was quiet. When she dared to look up at him after a while, his eyes were regretful. "I'm sorry—"

"Save it." She pulled her phone out of her purse. "I'll call the driver."

The drive back to the palace was uncomfortable, Imogen furiously pretending that Cedric didn't exist and that she couldn't see the apologetic looks he kept giving her. However, she couldn't help but replay their conversation in her head. It was true that her father's reign hadn't done much for the country's inequality, but were the measures they'd taken really that ineffective? Did they have to do more? Had she been a disappointment for the past few months?

Deep down, she knew the answer. But she turned away, determined to stare out the window.

"You can leave after dinner," she told Cedric when they arrived at the palace. With the preparation for the Report, there was too much for them to do.

She left him alone in the entrance hall. His elimination should've brought her relief, now that she was one step closer to being done with this whole shebang. None of the nobles would force her to bring him back.

So why did she have such a heavy feeling in her chest?

Half an hour before the Report was due to start filming, Imogen was speed-walking down the Selected hallway. "Do you know which room is Sir Cedric's?" she asked the guard.

He pointed her towards the end of the hall, and she came to a stop in front of the door. Steeling herself, she took a deep breath and knocked twice. A moment later, the door cracked open.

Ironic that the last time she had been in a situation like this, it had been Colin standing in front of her. This time, it was Cedric, looking thoroughly confused. Behind him, she could see open suitcases lying on the ground, and his valet was going through his closet.

"Hey." She forced a smile. "I… I need to say something."

"Me too," he said, looking far more sheepish than how defiant he had been during the afternoon. When he had decided to yell at her over coffee. "Uh, you first, Your Highness."

She bit her lip. "I'm sorry about the way I reacted," she managed to get out. "You weren't entirely wrong. Keeping Colin here was wrong, and I wish I hadn't, and I know it doesn't align with everything else I believe in. And you're also right that the royal family hasn't been doing enough. What we do will never be enough. There's always more to do to make Illéa better, but refusing to listen to others isn't going to help."

Cedric was watching her in surprise.

"I've just had… A rough few months," she admitted. "I didn't want to hear your criticism. That hurt."

He let out a relieved sigh. "I stand by what I said; I'm not going to apologize for that. But I was pretty rude about it. So… I'm really sorry. Probably should've thought about what I was doing, but I've never been particularly good at that." He frowned. "Don't think I'll be impressing any princesses with that tactic."

Against her better judgment, Imogen let out a chuckle. "It was a little abrasive. I suggest you be more careful on the Report."

Cedric smiled, then froze. "Wait. The Report…?"

"Welcome back to the Selection, Sir Cedric." She gave him a once-over, noticing that he was still in jeans and a T-shirt. "You have less than thirty minutes to get ready for the filming. I'll escort you downstairs whenever you're ready. Good luck!"

His loud swearing could be heard even after the door had shut between them. Still, to his credit, he appeared outside in a few minutes in a dark blue suit, his red hair still slightly messed-up.

"My valet wants you to know that if that ever happens again, he's quitting his job."

Imogen winced. "My bad. I'll tell you earlier next time."

"I'd rather not be eliminated next time," he protested, and she snorted. "Oh, man. This is really happening." He grinned wildly. "Colin's going to be pissed when he sees my face again."

"They know you got eliminated?" she questioned.

"I had to say my goodbyes. Didn't think I was going to come back." He smiled at her as they entered the studio. "Again, thank you so— uh, this is a LOT of people."

The set of the Report was busy for the first formal segment of the Selection. There were more staff than usual, as makeup artists hurried around to prepare the twenty-three men for the stage.

Cedric looked even more overwhelmed than her, swallowing nervously as his brown eyes took in the set. Still, there was a certain defiance on his face that hadn't wavered. It flickered even now, as he let out a groan. "We have to speak on camera, don't we?"

"Don't stress about it," Imogen said. "The spotlight won't be on each man for too long."

Indeed, there wasn't enough time on the Report to conduct a full-length interview with each Selected. While a script hadn't been written for the men to follow, it was expected that they would be on their best behavior after the etiquette classes they'd already underwent. Each Selected would only get a sprinkle of spotlight-time before one man, decided upon by the public's polls, would be fortunate enough to have his own interview.

Appealing to the people: a classic tactic. It was also a good way to ensure that whoever was chosen would probably be somewhat eloquent. Deep down, Imogen was curious to see who the country wanted her to marry. She didn't have to say much this time, and the twenty-two Selected chairs on the stage left no room for her.

It seemed a little ironic that she was getting kicked off of an episode about her Selection, but she wasn't keen on answering questions about her love life, so she let it slide.

Cedric rolled his eyes. "Well, time to hope the people love me."

She had her doubts. His background left much to be desired, especially when compared with the wealthy heirs in her Selection. Though, as long as he didn't start yelling at Virginia, he would be fine. Hopefully.

"Good luck," she offered.

He gave her a surprised glance. "Thank you, Your Highness."

Imogen watched as he joined the Selected by the stage, receiving many surprised looks. Jack instantly grabbed him by the arm, and while she couldn't hear what they were saying, a lot of intense facial expressions and hand gestures were involved. Jack looked over at her with his mouth wide open; Cedric shrugged with his hands in his pockets but turned to give her a smile over his shoulder.

As Vincent and Dillon joined the two, sparking a full-on conversation, she noticed some of the other men a distance away. Colin seemed to be speaking with Aegon under his breath; his face was dark, and she suspected his words were too. Martel and Quentin were also watching, though they appeared to be more intrigued than angry.

She didn't have much time to dwell on it as the staff suddenly ushered everybody to their places. She was on standby beside the stage. Cedric had chosen the back row, as had a few of the others. The front row, consisting of the more poised men, didn't surprise her, but she hadn't expected the quieter James to be there too.

And then, they were live.

"Good evening, and welcome back to the Illéa Capital Report!" Virginia said. "Today, we'll be dedicating the episode to Princess Imogen's Selection, which is now underway! With twenty-two amazing men still at the palace, it's the perfect time to get to know them. After hearing a bit from each of the men, we'll invite the public's top-ranked suitor to the hot seat for a special interview."

The audience clapped politely, and Virginia turned to Imogen. "Now, Your Highness, we're all excited to hear from you. Now that you have met all the men, how do you feel about them?"

Imogen glanced towards her Selected. "They're… A good group of men. I look forward to getting to know them even better." She really didn't, but nobody had to know that.

"I see. Any standouts? Or particularly memorable moments?"

"I have been on quite a few dates over the past week. I'm sure you've seen the pictures." She shrugged. "If someone is still here… I suppose it means he was a standout, or did something right." At that, she swore she saw Colin raise an eyebrow.

Virginia nodded. "I suppose we aren't going to get all the details out of you. So, let's ask your Selected!"

Imogen stepped off the stage, and Virginia began questioning the Selected, starting with the men in the front row. Quentin spoke kindly of her, mentioning their visit to the Stonewall Shelter in Angeles, and Connor also said that he'd had a great time. Vincent also complimented her, throwing a smirk in her direction as he said he was looking forward to a date.

Everything was going surprisingly well, considering she hadn't thought of her dates as anything special. But then, as Virginia reached Colin and Andres, her heart stopped.

"What do you think of the princess, Sir Andres?" Virginia questioned Andres. "You have not been on a date yet, right?"

"That is correct." Andres's eyes were cold, and Imogen held her breath, hoping he wouldn't say anything biting. "I haven't spent much time with her yet. I hope that we will get along when we do."

Huh. That was civil. It looked like he knew when to be strategic. Unlike a certain Colin Eaton, who was now being asked a question.

"I trust that Her Highness knows the right thing to do," Colin said smoothly, smirking. "She has shown that she is willing to recognize the errors of her ways, which is very promising."

What was that supposed to mean? Virginia frowned. "Could you elaborate on what errors you are referring to?"

"At that breakfast, as you might have seen from the photos, Princess Imogen made a rash judgment in eliminating me," Colin explained, donning a sad frown. "I was disappointed that my intentions did not come across clearly. But she later apologized for the misunderstanding and begged me to come back, which was incredibly generous of her. I'm very grateful that we were able to put this behind us."

If this was the kind of thing he said on live television, Imogen wondered what he had said in the Men's Room. Begged him to come back? In what world?

"That sounds like a rocky start, but it's good that you were able to work past it, Sir Colin," Virginia said. Imogen gritted her teeth but knew she couldn't say anything. He'd somehow managed to paint the entire situation as her fault, as if eliminating him had been some sort of mistake on her part.

"Colin's right," Asher said suddenly, though Virginia hadn't approached him, "in that Her Highness has good judgment. We should trust all of her decisions. She's doing her best."

Colin was response was swift. "Ah, yes, like her decision to welcome me back."

"I think it's time for our next segment," Virginia interrupted. "While I'd love to talk with you all day, it's time to view the public polls and see who has won the public's hearts this week!"

Behind the men, the screen lit up with a bar graph, showing the results of the national polls besides the men's faces.

"The people have spoken! Across the country, the Selected with the most votes was Sir Asher Coulter! He took the first place in nearly twenty provinces, and was the clear frontrunner nationally."

Asher was first, with a clear victory over the second and third place, whose vote difference was smaller. She was surprised to see Dillon's portrait there, followed by Aegon. She didn't know who she had expected to be second, but certainly not Dillon.

"Sir Asher, please join me up here," Virginia said.

As the audience clapped, Asher took the special seat beside Virginia, looking full of surprise and joy. His facial expressions were annoyingly convincing. He must have practiced a lot. At least the poll winner had been someone who could present themselves on camera well.

At least it wasn't Colin.

"So, Sir Asher, did you expect that you would be the public's favorite for this week?"

"No, not at all!" Asher laughed, clasping his hands together. "To be honest, Ms. Taylour-Vasquez, I had no idea. Some of my fellow Selected are incredible people, so I expected them to lead the polls."

"Please, call me Virginia." The Report host looked like she was having the time of her life. "That's very polite of you, but you have one of the largest pre-existing fanbases; you even won an Oscar! It should be no surprise that a successful young actor like yourself is gaining a lot of popularity." With that smile on her face, Imogen wouldn't have been surprised if Virginia was a member of Asher's fanbase herself.

He ducked his head. "Thank you. I'm extremely grateful for that, and for all of the support. But any of these men deserve it just as much as I do."

"How humble of you, Sir Asher. Now, we're all curious: why did you enter the Selection?"

"I didn't have any projects planned for this time period, so, why not?" he shrugged. "It was a great opportunity to meet the princess, so I took it."

"And has it exceeded your expectations? What would you say has been your favorite part of the Selection so far?"

"Well, I've only been here for a week, but the food has been amazing." Virginia chuckled. "No, really! However, everything has been great. The lessons have taught me a lot, the other guys are a lot of fun, and I've appreciated this chance to see the inside of the royal palace. Also, the support on social media has been overwhelming. Again, I'm so thankful for all my supporters; I couldn't do it without them."

Virginia gestured to the camera. "Speaking of which, is there anything you would like to your supporters, or the rest of the viewers?"

Asher beamed. "Whoever you are, you're doing great, and I hope you have a nice week!" he said. "Don't forget to spread happiness. We rise by lifting others, not putting them down. The world needs more empathy and kindness."

That was the most disgustingly positive thing Imogen had ever heard, straight out of the self-help podcasts Eden had tried to get her to listen to, but Virginia seemed completely enamored. "Wonderful. Really wonderful. One final question, Sir Asher: what do you think about our princess?"

Now, this was an answer she wanted to hear. She leaned forward, wondering what Asher would have to say. He couldn't have been oblivious to her true feelings towards him, right?

"Princess Imogen is very inspiring," he said, his face earnest. "I would love to become closer to her, if she'll let me."

If I ever write a chapter WITHOUT some mention of food, call for help, because something is clearly wrong.

Happy first day of a certain month that shares its name with a certain FG character that many people don't seem to like very much! Just a head's up that this is going to be a busy month for me, and the coming months will only get busier, so I'm not sure how long I'll be able to maintain this two-week schedule. If I can get a lot of pre-written material, that would be great, but I've unfortunately got a lot on my plate so we'll see.

This chapter was a fun one! Some insight into how the boys act without Imogen around, an upcoming ball that definitely won't be a disaster, an eventful date with Cedric, and some Report shenanigans. What'd you think?

Until next time!

—Rysa