Disclaimer: Original characters belong to Kiera Cass, new characters and storyline belong to us.

Chapter 3

After experiencing my first mental breakdown of the selection (the first of many I predict), I finally sit up in my bed and take a deep breath. I need to look good tonight at the dinner. I'll show all of those guys who were trashing me and my semi-flat chest. I rush into my closet, turning to the wall of gowns, trying to choose the most flattering one.

My eyes roam over the array of dresses, finally settling on a spot of deep red.

I smile as I pull it out, remembering the time my mom bought it for me. I was completely shocked, and back then I couldn't imagine myself wearing something like that. The top is low-cut, but just enough to push up the small amount of cleavage I have. A slit runs up the side to mid-thigh, and the straps hang off the shoulder elegantly and drape in the back.

I grin down at it and lay it across my bed, undressing for yet another shower today.

An hour later, I come out with my hair half up, and in ringlets cascading down my back. My makeup is dark in the eyes, and the lips are a matching shade of scarlet.

The dress slides down my body and I adjust it, trying to position the draping correctly. Mary comes up behind me in the mirror, tugging at some material in the back, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

"I remember when you were just a little baby. And here you are, entering your own selection, wearing dresses like this," she chokes up a little bit, and looks away, covering her lips with her fingers.

I turn and pull her into my arms. Mary has been my second mother. Always there, always ready.

"I'm sorry, you've just grown so much," she says as she attempts to compose herself.

I rub her back, smiling softly into her maids uniform. She smells like laundry detergent and perfume. Her own special Mary scent. I step back a little, looking her in the eyes.

"Don't ever be sorry about your feelings, because most likely, I'm feeling the same exact thing."

She smiles and shakes her head a little bit. "You've always been wiser than you should be at your age."

I smile at her fondly, and she reaches down for the heels that I left at the foot of the bed. They're also red, and higher than anything I have ever dreamed of wearing, with straps criss-crossing over the front.

Tomorrow I'll have to eliminate four guys after breakfast. This dinner was set up by my dad, so I can see the guys first, then afterwards we're supposed to "mingle." I can't do that! I can't ever remember a time when I was alone in a room with 35 teenage guys, let alone 35 guys who all want to marry me.

I take another deep breath for courage and close my eyes, trying not to image all of the ways that this could go wrong. As it turns out, there are a lot of ways for this to go wrong.

I pull my shoulders back, lift my chin and head to the door, forgetting to move my skirt out of the way before my shoe happens to yank me down to the floor in the most ungraceful way. So much for my dramatic exit.

I pop back up, smoothing my hair down, hearing Mary giggle behind me. I turn back and smile at her sheepishly, then open the door and step into the hallway.

After my little encounter this afternoon, I have become more cautious around other people.

I beckon a guard forward and wrap a hand around his bicep, trying to balance myself out. He's a really good sport about it, and he doesn't even laugh at me. He's got black hair and mischevious looking we find ourselves in front of the dining room door, I peer at his name plate, saying, "Thank you officer...Ledger? As in head of royal guard Ledger?"

He smiles at me, his cheeks flushing a little. "My dad is the Aspen Ledger."

"How do I not know you?" I ask, more to myself than him.

"You probably don't remember but we used to play together as kids."

"Ah. Wait... Aha! You're Gerad aren't you?" I practically yell.

His smile widens and he nods a little. "It's been a while, Princess Amberly."

I laugh as two older guards open the doors to about 43 sets of eyes. I nod to Gerad, hoping we can catch up later, and step through the doors calmly.

All of the guys stand and I awkwardly look around before smiling and giving them thumbs up.

They look around at each other for a moment before my mother's voice rings through the room. "You may sit gentlemen."

They all sit, not one of them taking their eyes off of me. Creepy much?

I smile tensely at all of them and find my seat at the head of one of the tables.

It takes me moment to recognize who's sitting directly to my left. It's him. Ryder Greening, with the same smirk as earlier.

"Oh, God," I mutter, acting super interested in the napkin on my lap. He takes one of my hands, forcing me to look up and sets a gentle kiss on the top. "Ryder Greening, your majesty." His voice is silky smooth, and I feel the flush start to grow on my cheeks. "You look exquisite, if I may say so."

I smile and before I can control myself I say, "Well you already did so..."

I'm both relieved and a little aggravated to see that he seems more amused than offended by my response.

"I always mean what I say," he murmurs, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. My eyes widen as I realize that he means my little spy mission.

"...It's super interesting because now I can catch moving objects better without all of the shaky-ness. The shutter speed is way faster than normal cameras and-"

"You like photography?" The words fly out of my mouth as I snatch my hand back from Ryder's. I don't know exactly who I'm talking to but when the dining room quiets down, I realize how loud I said that.

"Um, yes I do," proclaims a quiet voice on the opposite side of the table, a couple chairs down from mine.

"That's really interesting. My father loves photography and has tried to teach me God know how many times," I try my hardest to fix the foot I shoved in my mouth and only succeed in shoving it down farther.

Grayson, still looking slightly confused and nervous, lets a small smile creep onto his face. "I wasn't aware that King Schreave was interested in photography."

"Oh yeah, big time. It's his one main passion." I'm a little worried that I'm giving a little too much away, but I can't stop trying to relate to these guys.

His already bright eyes lighten up even more and I can see him leaning towards me.

"This is kind of disruptive. Oh! Ryder, would you mind switching with..." I already know his name, but I can't show favoritism so I gesture for him to fill in the blank.

"Grayson Archer, your grace."

I smile and continue, "Grayson, would you?"

Ryder's cocky grin diminishes a little as he responds. "Of course not."

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at his dejected tone. "Thank you so much!" I exclaim in the sweetest voice I can muster.

Grayson is still sitting there with a blank look on his face before he pushes the bridge of his glasses up his nose and scoots his chair back. I cringe a little as he narrowly misses tripping over the chair while standing up. He mutters, "Excuse me," a couple times, and that only makes him more endearing. His manners are impeccable from what I can tell.

Ryder, on the other hand, tries his hardest to not look anyone in the eye as he moves to his new seat. There goes his plan to 'woo' me. His movements are the polar opposite of Grayson's. He is smooth and has a certain grace.

Once Grayson is settled in with his napkin on his lap and his hands folded on top, he beams at me. I can't help but blush at his completely unironic enthusiasm.

"So tell me more about this camera of yours," I say, trying to pick the conversation back up.

"Oh it's very interesting, the shutter moves so quick that there is no way it can blur a photo and if you go through the pictures in order, it kind of looks like animation."

"Oh wow, you wouldn't happen to have brought the camera to the palace, would you?"

He nods, little dimples in his cheeks making an appearance with his 100 watt smile.

"I bet it would be great to take pictures for, oh, I don't know... maybe like dance?" I ask, trying to be subtle and failing so ridiculously I grimace at myself.

"Uh, yeah, I guess I cou-"

He is interrupted by the waiter behind him setting his drink down, which poor Grayson proceeds to knock over from lack of seeing it. His blinding smile, dimples and all, completely disappears, replaced by an expression of pure mortification.

"I'm so sorry. Oh my God I can't believe I just did that! Did you get wet?" His words come out jumbled and rushed. The waiter swoops in, cleaning it up in record time as Grayson's wide eyes meet mine.

I pat his hand on the table saying, "It's not a big deal, I'm ok. It's just a little spilled water. In fact, I wish I had a camera to catch that expression on your face."

His face instantly relaxes as he lets out a chuckle and a sigh, running a hand through his unruly hair.

N/A: Hey guys sorry we haven't updated in a while, I was on vacation. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Make sure to review because we read every single one and we appreciate them more than you realize. We will try to update again soon! Love you guys!