Author's Notes: I am hoping you guys are liking this story. It's a bit slow to start but I promise things will start to pick up speed! Please leave a review so we know you want us to write more.

Thanks to Supergirls2008 for her wonderful intro to this chapter!

If you posted a review to Chapter One see your special message at the end of the story!

Enjoy!

~Sweetwaterspice

Chapter updated: 05/15/2020

A Gilded Cage Just for Me

Chapter Two

~Marguerite

I made my way down the hall as quickly as my feet carried me. I was already running late. "Great, Marguerite!" I chided myself. "Great way to make an impression on your new group!" I tugged at the cuff of my uniform, making sure it lay neatly folded. A couple of maids rushed past me. At least I wasn't the only one with tardiness as a bad habit.

A hand grabbed my arm as I headed towards breakfast, pulling me into an alcove.

"There you are," Ramsey whispered. "I've been looking everywhere for you, Marguerite."

At the recognition of his voice my heart flip-flopped and then filled with anger. Yanking my arm back I said, "Well stop," and proceeded smoothing my skirt just to give my hands something to do otherwise they'd end up on his chest, yearning to feel the hard muscle beneath his guard's uniform. The man was my irresistible magnet. "I told you, I don't want to see you anymore."

"Well we both know that is a lie. I'm irresistible," Ramsey said echoing my thoughts. He smiled with that mouth that made my knees weak and reached for my hand.

I snatched it away. "Well watch me resist." I spun around, but Ramsey's hands caught my shoulders. His big hands curved around sore muscles beginning to knead the tension out of them in the way only Ramsey knew how. I bit back a groan of pleasure. I hated how easily he could make every muscle in my body melt.

"I told you, nothing happened with Skyler," he said in my ear. "And whatever she said happened isn't true. She's just jealous of what you and I have," he breathed across my ear in his most sultry voice. A voice full of poison that I wanted to taste. But he didn't need to know any of that.

"Which is what, exactly?" I said, turning to face him. "I'm not going to be just another one of your girls."

"You are the only girl for me," he said, a broad grin lighting his face. He was one of the most handsome guards; devastatingly beautiful with a cock that could go for hours and had been through its fair share of maids.

"You say that to all the girls," I replied coolly.

"Well what I don't say to all the girls is that my service is almost up. Another year and I am busting out of this joint, and I want to take you with me." He bent his head and kissed me. It was soft and sultry. His lips were like two clouds I could just sink into. I couldn't help but moan. All of his experience had certainly equipped him with the knowledge of how to please a woman. My fingers clutched his jacket drawing him closer. Damn my weakness.

"Do you mean it?" I asked against his mouth. As I looked up to him, my heart threatening to burst, I saw him wink over my shoulder. I turned and saw two of Ramsey's friends, fellow guards smiling at him, making suggestive hand gestures. I gasped and slapped his shoulder, making to get away but he wrapped his arms around me, pulling my back to his chest, before I could move away from him, nipping lightly down my neck.

"Stop it!" I wriggled. "Someone could see!" His two friends chuckled as they turned to leave us alone and I felt heat flash over my cheeks.

"Then you better stop resisting me," he voiced. "You know I'm not going to let you go."

His words shouldn't make me feels special but they do so I give in.

"I think we have something really special," he said, "Truly," as he found the sensitive spot behind my ear. I closed my eyes, the outside world muting. Nothing would drag me away from him now. I knew Ramsey had a rep and I almost didn't care. Almost. I still had my dignity or what was left of it. But reality was I couldn't afford not to take my chances. To get away from the palace, launch a career in jewelry designing… it was my dream. And I would never have the chance to have any career of any sort as a Six, but as a Two… Ramsey was my ticket out of this place.

"Meet me after your meeting? I can show you just how special you are," he said, his erection pressing into my bottom.

"Fine," I sighed, my nipples already perked, anticipating what another bedroom romp would be like with him. "But you are going to have to do that extra-special thing you do to repay me."

When I turn my head I see a wicked grin on his face. He whirls me around, pulling me in for a kiss, which ends with his teeth raking across my lower lip. "I'll see what I can do."

He was so deliciously wicked. So addicting. I suppose that's why so many of the maids fawned over him. But the thought that he was mine made my heart do a bit of a somersault. I pulled away, smiling flirtatiously, before leaving the alcove.

A jolt of anxiety shot through me. The hallways were empty, which meant I was late for breakfast. Damn!

I gathered my skirt and rushed away, not wanting to make more of a spectacle of myself with Ramsey. Let's be real though. When you work in a place where the vitality of youth is abundant and the level of pheromones so thick you could slice it with a machete, there aren't enough laws to keep what nature intended to happen, happen. When the mating call went out, we listened. Liaisons between guards and maids was common knowledge, but flaunting it was just asking to get thrown into jail, or worse.

I rushed into the servant's hall, scanning for friendly faces. My eyes met Skyler's for a split second. I glared and looked away. 'Bitch,' was the only word that came to mind. She had been my friend, how could she lie to me about her and Ramsey? And if she wasn't lying, how could she have done it? Either way, I hated her.

I finally found the table where my new team sat, and started walking towards it. Reaching it, the head maid of my new group bolted up from her seat. She looked pissed.

"Where have you been?" she hissed. "You are late!" she scolded through gritted teeth. Her ghostly pasty skin, sharp cheekbones and dark eyes reminded me of Maleficent. You know, the witch.

"Sorry. I lost track of time."

She narrowed her eyes, and for a second I thought she might have guessed exactly what had made me lose track of time. She took a hold of my arm and squeezed tight digging her nails into my flesh. "Are you trying to make a fool of me? Of all days?!"

This bitch must've lost her mind!

"I will not put up with your little games, Marguerite. I expect you to be prompt from now on. You've caused a lot of hassle lately, and I would hate to see you lose your position in the palace. Understood?"

I had to bite back the smartass remark ready to leap from my mouth and the bite of pain from her grip on my arm. I'm sure there were some nicely crescent shaped indentations there. I wasn't stupid enough to get into any altercation, verbal or otherwise with my new team leader. I couldn't afford to screw things up let alone lose my position and end up in the kitchens. "Yes ma'am," I replied. Inside I wanted to break everyone of her dainty fingers.

"Good. I'm glad we understand each other." With those words she let her hand fall and gestured for me to join my table. I took my seat feeling as if the entire room was looking at me. I hated this place. If Ramsey was my ticket out of here I would give him whatever he wanted in return for my get out of jail free card. At least, I would be more than just a maid.

~Anne

The servant's hall was not fancy by any stretch of the imagination but it was clean, well-lit and overall, practical. A huge fireplace kept it warm during the cooler winter months which in Angeles weren't anywhere extreme unlike other parts of our country. The big church-like windows invited the cool breezes in the warmer months which again weren't anywhere as extreme except when the dry Santa Ana winds blew in making their unwelcome visit every summer. It was during the sweltering Santa Ana's that we were more than thankful for the relief of fresh air.

Four large televisions were mounted on each corner of the room. The Report of course, was mandatory, requiring all staff to be present. Like a school of sardines we gathered in here every Friday to watch. I supposed King Clarkson thought this would be a way to keep us informed. But when the story is only spun from one side who was to tell what the real truth was. The rebel attacks were becoming more frequent and I worried with the Selection about to begin.

Rows of picnic length tables draped in white tablecloths along with the appropriate table setting accommodated the myriad of servants, maids and butlers that the palace currently held in its employ. Each table was large enough to seat sixteen, eight on each side. Today though, the servant's hall had been reserved specifically for the maids of the palace— some, not all. Mrs. LaFontaine, of course, still had standards. I felt privileged to be in this group as I sat with Mary and Lucy.

A maid had to be young, most of all attractive and definitely in possession of a figure that would make most women envious. I didn't think of myself as anything special but I wasn't unpretty. Lorna LaFontaine was Head Maid and her position carried not only a lot of responsibility but much weight. She had her own reputation to uphold— one that championed excellence and nothing less. Her handpicked staff of maids, those of us seen by their Majesties guests, were to bring nothing but high praises to the Royal family. At times I envied her position. If nothing better were in the cards for me, no husband, no family, I would love to be Head Maid one day. Lorna was the standard I chose to measure myself by.

I could see how pride gleamed in her eyes as she surveyed the army of maids behind her steaming cup of tea, all dressed in black and white uniforms, perfectly arranged. Hair was never to be worn loose but neatly pinned up or under a maid's cap. Personal hygiene was imperative at all times no matter what time of the month. Nails were to be trimmed and colorless though she did concede to clear polish to keep us girls marginally content. And though make-up was allowed it was to be kept to a minimum— no dramatics. Mrs. LaFontaine prided herself in her maid's natural beauty and to be overly made up was not just a waste of time but a waste of energies in her opinion.

Lorna, though strict was no stick in the mud. Realizing quite well that even young people needed the occasional distraction, she had made request of their Majesties to allow for an annual picnic in the gardens and an annual dance around the holiday season for both maids and butlers. These were highly anticipated events during the year for the staff. And though fraternizing was something she did not encourage she understood all too well it happened. She was no fool, after all, she'd said. She had at one time been a young, adventurous girl herself, she reminded us. She very well recognized what hormones did to the female anatomy and the need for satiation through sexual intimacy to quiet those urges. (Not that I would know since I've never been anyone's love interest.)

Regardless, Illéa had its laws but she had hers— as long as she didn't know of it or heard of it, there was nothing for her to discipline or report and setting that boundary made her sleep well at night which in truth, was just fine by many of the maids.

Of course, as I looked across the room to see Marguerite being talked to by the head maid of her new group there was without fail the sporadic bickering and the request to be moved to another group as in the recent case between her and Skyler. Though pressed to some measure, Marguerite was no snitch. In the end, we'd heard that Mrs. LaFontaine had concluded it must've been a quarrel over a young man as was usually the case in her experience. And showing a measure of diplomacy, she hadn't pressed Marguerite further than giving her a stern talking to about team work and getting along with her workmates. Granting Marguerite her request, she thereby, safely stood unencumbered behind her self-made boundary.

Breakfast had come to its end and the room was still alive with the buzz of nervous anticipation. Standing from her seat at the head table she shared with her assistants, Lorna shook the small bell. The musical dings of the bell were her preferred method of signal whenever an announcement needed to be made. It always amazed me that such a dainty tune could quickly quiet down a room full of chattering young women but it always worked.

"Ladies," she took in a breath, meeting the room full of eyes glued to her.

It was finally here. The day she had groomed us girls for. She'd tried convincing us that this was just another assignment but as she looked down at the 35 folders in front of her, no, this was not just another assignment. I'm sure excitement swelled in her bosom, matching my own at this very moment. I sat up a little taller. I could feel Lucy practically bouncing in her seat. So many other faces around me brimmed with widened smiles. Yes, I could feel the electric charge zinging around the room. It was thick. But being the standard of professionalism, Lorna kept it contained from our eyes. It made me want to be more like her.

"I realize you are all eager and no doubt excited about the Selection. It is not every day we are entrusted with such a heavy duty as we are at this very moment," she started, her voice steady and resolute. "Nevertheless, I want you to remember that our Prince Maxon is counting on you to help him choose not only the next princess of Illéa but most importantly his wife and our future queen.

"The privilege bestowed upon you is a great one indeed, for in your capable hands, one young woman can be made to stand out above the rest in such manner as our beautiful Queen Amberly, to take her rightful place next to our beloved prince and future king. Make her shine through your labors, make her soar right into his heart, for a prize not only awaits her but a prize awaits you as well. You have within your grasp the opportunity of becoming our new princess' and future queen's personal assistants. There is no honor greater than that."

Applause echoed through the room. Once quiet was reestablished she continued, "Before me" she gestured to the files, "I have the young women, the 35 Daughters of Illéa that have been delegated to you. The file handed to each head maid in your group contains solely a picture of your Selected lady, her vital statistics— height, weight, hair and eye color, her province, caste and a list of talents which you may pay close attention to and I strongly suggest that you do. Please do not open your file until everyone has received their assignment."

And to end her speech which I'm sure she hoped had been inspirational, added, "Our King Clarkson has provided you with this critical information and with his full confidence in your abilities, needs your assistance to help find his son, our Prince Maxon, find a princess. Make him as proud of you as I am."

Another wave of applause rained and she gave us one last smile.

"Please come forward as I call your name."

What did you think? I think I like Ramsey! Woo-Hoo! Bad boy in the house!

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Special Shout-Outs:

*wavebreak01 - Thanks for reading! We are highly dedicated to bringing the best written stories to the fandom. No shortcuts here! I hope you continue along as we bring more behind the scenes Selection goodies your way!

*wordfuls - It's always nice to see your reviews and to have your support. We will continue to keep slaying! Things are going to start getting very, very interesting! And love you too!

*Supergirls2008 - my partner in crime! Raunchy side? What?! LOL!

Don't forget to check out the Author's Notes section in my story "At Last" for a summary on Chapter Two and a little preview!

Chapter Three..

Stay tuned!