Hey everyone! It's been a while, but I have another update for you! This chapter features Princess Cassia (to clear up the cliffhanger from last chapter), Pepper Hearst (submitted by 4Love4Love4), and Audrey Matlock (submitted by Cookiedoodles168).
As for last chapter, thank you to Cookiedoodles168, Rainbowcupcakes579, and Issi Herondale for following Rainbowcupcakes579 for favoriting, Monotonic Rainbow, Happygreenbirdy, anaklusmos26, XOstarbrightXO, Booki (guest), fivesauce'n'YAbooks, Rainbowcupcakes579, 4Love4Love4 (x3), and Cookiedoodles168 for reviewing, Rainbowcupcakes579, Monotonic Rainbow, JenHen49, Cookiedoodles168, and 4Love4Love4 for submitting! DEFINITELY DO ALL OF THOSE THINGS AND IN REGARDS TO SUBMITTING, PLEASE READ THE AUTHORS NOTE BELOW!
Enjoy, everyone!:)
…
Princess Cassia Havillard
It was like I caught him in the midst of the murder. My oldest brother, who may as well be an emotionless sociopath: who seemingly wouldn't have even cared if I caught him killing someone. But what I saw was decidedly worse. Not that he cared about that either, I'm sure.
"Oh. Hey, Cassia." Cameron looks up from the papers on his desk to regard me.
"Cameron… Are you-" I step forward, but he's already become bored of me. Cameron goes back to sifting through forms. Each is made of thick manila and filled out with an assortment of writing utensils and colors. A picture is clipped to every one, and the swarm of unique faces is dizzying. These are the letters that have been flooding the palace for the past month. "Are those Selection Applications?"
Cameron doesn't bother to look up this time. "Yep."
"Does Dad know you have these?" I start to notice them everywhere. Sheets of manila oak tag are clumped into distinct piles around my oldest brother's room. A sea of cream washes over his dresser, bed, and stack up along the area behind his desk. Every inch of counter space is used to hold them, and I watch as Cam skims a form in his hand and throws it haphazardly behind him.
"It was Dad's idea. I don't think he's going to be that mad." He places another paper in a pile on the right of the last. "Thanks for looking out for me, though…" I almost feel like I can detect sarcasm in his voice, but I'm not sure.
"Are you choosing your girls?" I can't contain my shock, but I taste a hint of revolt in my tone as the words come out.
"Not yet." He informs me casually. "I get to pick six total, and this is only part three of my screening process."
"Six? Wait, why that many?"
Cameron shrugs. "I don't know." He looks back at his forms. "Want to see some?"
No. No. No, Cassia say no. No. CASSIA DON'T YOU DARE! "Yeah. Sure."
Cameron gives me what looks like an unconvincing attempt at a tight-lipped grin (of sorts) before grabbing my hand and showing me exactly how there was order to the exasperating chaos of his bedroom. The first stop is the stack of forms to the left of his desk. "This pile, over here, are the ones who I'm not even considering. They didn't even make it past part one of the screening process."
"How do you pass part one?"
"Be pretty." He says blatantly. I feel like choking. "Please, do you want an ugly heir? Genetics are like, pretty important, Cassia." Cam moves on. "The ones here, by the window, didn't seem interesting. Like, they'd probably be pretty enough, but the hobbies sounded so vastly boring that I probably couldn't even bring myself to care much about them. You'd be so surprised at how many girls decided that they could sing, or loved to bake, or read. This is the pile of girls who bored me to tears just reading." Cam takes me to the final pile on the right of his desk. "These are the ones who are going through the next part of consideration. They're pretty, and they seem interesting. A bunch come from great families, or have connections that we could need, or even just could bring popular approval. After I finish deciding between if the rest of these forms go past phase three, I can pick the one's I'm considering for my six." He sits at his desk, telling me that my "tour" is finished. "The ones on my bed are contenders. Some of those girls seem like phenomenal choices. Feel free to take a look at them, and if you disagree, I'd like to know immediately."
I walk away from Cameron's desk and position myself at the foot of his bed. There are almost enough forms on this mattress to fill the entire Selection, even though Cameron only gets to pick a few. I take each thoughtfully and begin to shuffle through.
All I can say is that Cam has (mostly) good taste.
The first girl I see is a beautiful female firefighter with gorgeous auburn curls and a bright simper on her lips. Her name is Halley Rowan, a two from Columbia. I can see exactly what Cameron did in her. Halley is gorgeous, and you could assume some redeemable qualities from her occupation.
The next is a blonde from Ottaro with unequivocally perfect features and the most incredible list of hobbies I've ever seen. There's a fairy-like girl clad in a leather jacket and a dainty smile (a tattoo artist! If Cameron didn't pick her, Dad and his advisors never would). I spot an Y'Inquistion model and a famous singer. There's a sexy pool cleaner from Allens and an up and coming flawless looking lawyer from Tammins. Impeccable taste, Cameron. I can picture most of these women as queenly, wifely, fascinating… I'm almost amazed that there are so many who deserve these spots so much, and immediately I'm taken with each.
All of a sudden, in the midst of shuffling through "Cameron's Favorites", a barely detectable gasp comes from behind me. Dropping the forms I have in my hand (a cheerful brunette with the most dazzling hazel eyes I've ever seen), I strut over to peer over my brother's shoulder. My mouth pops open. "Wow."
Aspen Marx, a four from Waverly, is decidedly one of the most beautiful people I've ever seen in my life. She's athletic, tall, fit, and has an impressive list of entertaining hobbies. She speaks three languages and has the dual ethnicity of Bulgarian and Italian. With beautiful, dark brown hair, eyes to match, and flawless olive skin, you could immediately see how attractive she'd look by Cameron's side.
"Should I put her in the pile on your bed?"
"Um… what?" Cam ponders, snapping out of his daze "Oh yeah, sure."
From there, the form sifting continues.
…
Pepper Hearst
"Hmmmm, and what color are they today?" I wheel around in my pale brown, heeled suede ankle boots in indescribable terror. I only narrowly avoid crashing into the source of the voice or stepping on his feet with my shoes, which makes the color drain from my face and my already quick pulse go into rapid overdrive. I can't help but shrink against my reception desk, and almost knock over the computer I'm required to have. Casey Shard and Ian Rison, both clad in azure cashmere sweaters and black sport coats, practically tower over me, and smile as if the thought of me being scared is funny.
"Please-please, leave me alone." I manage, failing to find my strength. My eyes dance between the two of them before I grab the file folder left on my desk this morning and bring it to its intendant.
Ian and Casey do this every morning. It's their little bet: a dollar to the one who could guess my eye color of the day. My irises are far from exciting or hetrochromic, but are… evolving. They move between brown and green, and my coworkers (Or-I mean, they're both superiors) like to amuse themselves with that.
Casey, the shorter of the two, runs to stop me. I bite back a yelp, and swallow the lump in my throat and the need to recoil in an anxious shock. He smiles a perfect, pearly smile, like you'd see in a Colgate advertisement, and he looks back to Ian. "Green. I win!"
"Damn… You son of a-" Casey snatches the dollar from his friend's palm. I take this as my opportunity to make a quick getaway to my superior's desk, near the conference room in the back. But it's only seconds before the pair bolts to catch up with me. "Hey, wait! Pepper, why do you always do that?" Ian falls into pace with my quick stride, and as if that wasn't terrible enough, my heart closes in on itself when Casey appears on my other side to loop his arm with mine. "Casey and I are taking a couple of people from the office out for drinks tonight. Want to come with us?"
"Oh… Um. I'd love to, but I can't…" I fumble for words, or an excuse, and try to politely escape the conversation.
"C'mon, what can someone possibly have to do on a Wednesday?"
"I- uh…"
"Wait… Don't tell me." Ian stops us all of a sudden. Every fiber of my being screams to run away, but I try to stay as still as I can. "Are you entering the Selection?"
I try to object. "I-"
"Ouch," Casey smirks, appearing a bit deflated in the crinkles around his eyes. "And here I thought we were the only guys in your life. You're too special for some stuck up prince."
I'm suddenly paralyzed. I hate this. I hate it when they say things like that, for no reason at all. I've sat up for hours, when I'm supposed to be sleeping, conjuring up why they'd want to plot against me. I'm almost sure that's what they're doing: giving me empty compliments that they don't mean so they can win me over, just to humiliate me-or something along those lines.
I push away and keep my head held high as I walk to my superior's desk. "I'm not joining the Selection."
"Oh my god! Did someone say Selection?" Mila, one of the girls who work with Casey and Ian, rolls back her desk chair and appears out of her cubicle, making me nearly collapse on the floor in surprise.
"No, I-"
"Oh my God, please tell me you're entering, Pepper!" Mila squeals. "The deadline is like, only a few days away and I haven't had anyone to enter with! I hear those lines are, like, three hours long and it would suck to have to wait alone! Oh my God, will you wait with me?"
"I'm-"
"Please!" Mila stretches out every sound, and completes the plea with puppy dog eyes and a pout. I did not wake up ready for this. Not today. I cant do this I cant do this I cant do this… "Ugh this is ridiculous. Just say you'll enter with me!"
"Um. Ok." No Pepper oh dear god what have you done oh god oh god oh god!
"Amazing! Got a free sec? We can fill out the forms now!"
I swallow, my heart sinking to the pit of my stomach as it feels corroded by the digestive acids. So much for my mad-racing heart. No more throbbing pulse for me. "Ok." I hurry to drop the paperwork on my superior's desk before running behind the reception desk and grabbing my backpack. I fish through it before pulling out my Selection form (which was only there because I didn't trust my mom not to fill it out for me, or for my sisters to enter me with false information so something bad happens to me if I get in), and then whatever pen is in closest vicinity before coming back to sit with Mila. Deep breaths, Pepper. Deep breaths it's ok its ok its ok.
"This is so exciting! I'd, like, love to be Selected! I've dreamed of entering since I was a little girl playing princess with my friends." The redhead laughs. "What about you?"
Can we please not talk oh my god I cant I cant! "Well, I guess I've always had a tiny crush on Prince Cameron, from when I was young." I admit lazily. "It's not major, or anything. Just from seeing him on the Report." And an entire childhood of fantasizing about what our children would look like with the best friends I no longer have. But even after Luca and the rest of my sisters stopped bothering with me, he was still the talk of the house, although it was Sage who the sisters fangirled about and shipped with Prince Cameron, since they were the same age (born six months and one day apart). I was stuck smiling in the corner, dreaming about him being mine instead of my sister's. I mean, how selfish of me. How vain, to think that I'd have any sort of chance with Prince Cameron; against Sage, or against anyone. But I couldn't help myself. He always seemed really peaceful, and constantly at ease. Either that, or the exact opposite. I guess I saw a lot of Prince Cameron mirrored in myself, and I figured they were somewhat of the same. And if I allowed myself to think that, for just one second I wasn't alone.
Mila laughs again. "Oh my god, I don't know a single girl who doesn't! He is hot!"
I force a small smile on my lips and the bile rising in my throat to subside. "Yeah, I guess so."
Mila gets to work on her form immediately, scrawling her information in expensive black ink, but I take a bit longer taking out my application (making sure that I didn't crinkle the oak tag, tear the corners, or anything else like that), and write very slowly. I'm horrified when my hands start shaking, and have to rub them quickly, push my hair behind my ear, and take a very deep breath to calm down a bit. At my next attempt to sign my name, everything is loopy and pretty and exactly how it should be. Normal. Just ninety degrees from normal.
Name: Pepper Primrose Hearst
Age: 17
Province: Kent
Caste: Six
Occupation: Secretary and Receptionist for Zarcos Fashion Magazine
Hair Color: Pale Golden Blonde
Eye Color: Brown/Green
Skin Tone: Medium white
Height: 5 feet and 4 inches
Weight: 102 pounds
Languages Spoken: English and Latin, some French and Italian
Hobbies: Designing, styling, sketching, astrology, walking, playing piano
After I put my pen down, I look over to find Mila staring at me. I almost jump out of my seat, and such an intense look makes me want to cry or evaporate or die or all three, I don't know. But immediately, as if I imagined it, her demeanor transforms into a smiley one. "Ready?"
"What? Don't I have to get changed, or something?"
"Well, what you have on is pretty cute, I thought." I look down to check what I'm wearing, surprised that I have any approval at all. Along with my light brown suede ankle booties, I have a shapeless cotton dress in blush (both with spaghetti straps and off the shoulder drapes, and little designs going down the front and hemline), little fake rhinestone studs, and a necklace so small it's practically a choker. I'm plenty aware at how important subtle nuances are when it comes to styling, and how accessories can make an outfit, but I typically can't afford such things. My golden hair is kept out of my face in a long French braid and slung over my bare shoulder.
"Oh. Ok." I say, trying to avoid addressing her compliment. Fake: they're all fake she's trying to set me up it's a fake compliment she doesn't mean it she is lying.
Deep breaths, Pepper.
We step out of the office, with her radiant as the sun and me submerged under a hundred meters of water, my lungs aching for oxygen that it can never have.
…
Audrey Matlock
I graze the spine of emerald and gold binding, and pull the book from the library's shelf. Ad Intentionem. Intention to enter. Not exactly what I'm looking for.
For whatever reason, I couldn't find a single reference to ad litem: for the case. Due to the fact that Professor Archibald has only just assigned the investigation for what's being called "The Interference Call" this morning in my Advanced International Law course, I can conclude that either there is no information surrounding the case, or I've met my match in regards to early preparation.
It's a mystery, this case. Frankly, I'm shocked that such an investigation has been assigned to college students, even though I'm well aware that my course holds some of the most gifted law majors of my generation. I suppose that every mind focused on solving the case could be used, but it doesn't make sense how it's not a matter of national security, to be covered by investigative specialists and members of the Federal Deduction Board only.
Four nights ago exactly, a call was made between a member of the FDB and the telecommunications expert for federal security matters. At two minutes and forty-one seconds into the call, an additional, unidentified foreign personnel intercepted the transmission and stayed as a part of it undetected for thirty six seconds, where nothing out of the ordinary occurred. Then, suddenly, the telecommunications expert, named Harlii Eveble of northwestern Whites, cut out of the conversation without a signal. She was declared a missing person yesterday. The contents of the conversation have not been disclosed, and I'd guess that no more than five people know the matter. This investigation itself has been kept hush-hush and out of political tabloids. It was in the first circles of every prominent political corps, and had funneled down to me through my network from The Seminary. I suppose I have an edge in solving this case over my classmates (the exception, of course, being the imbecile who stole all of the investigatory evidence), but this is something that I'm used to. And still, to this day, relieved about. But I can still do nothing without the case evidence.
You know what? I'd bet the castle knows everything. The FDB, at least, probably know double the contents of that file, and I'd estimate that at least a thirty-second of the members work undercover around the imperial palace.
Oh dear God. That's another reason to enter the Selection.
I'd been debating for weeks now: enter or don't. Yes, I'd have to put my education on hold, but the positives have been stacking up. My mother, for one, seems adamant about forcing me to compete. For years she's hounded me to find a husband (even though I've proved over and over how I don't need one), mainly for the sake of social connections, and what better way to reach the elites of society than through the Selection? It's the Seminary part two: a whole new exceptional network, a specialization facility, and another strict group to force me into line. But even though that terrified me, about as much as the Lexington Hall had, I have to say how much better off I am in the diplomatic world because of my attendance. I'd expect the same results from the Selection. Additionally, it's always been a personal dream of mine to explore the castle. I'd be beside myself if I found the place more spectacular than the Seminary, but I've heard only the most spectacular stories about it. And the books! I've heard enough about the books to achieve my wildest fantasies. It could help me gather information about the investigation (which, even if I'm not actively participating in with the rest of my classmates, I've found a sudden fascination for), and so much exposure to diplomats and ambassadors could do great things for me in the future, when I'm a politician (well, crossing my fingers in that regard). And even more, I might fall in love. Give myself the life my mother has always wanted for me. The typical fantasy every girl lusts over, which could be mine in the mere few minutes it'd take me to fill out my Application.
The case. My own tipping point. Now, I have to enter. I guess you could say I have the ad intentionem.
I make a quick exit from the library and retreat to my dorm, where I pull out the untouched Selection form from its place in the corner of my desk, previously sitting amongst my other important documents. I grab one of my favorite ballpoint pens (from a collection that was custom-made and designed for me specifically), and begin to write.
Name: Audrey Dakota Matlock
Age: Eighteen
Province: Sumner
Caste: Two
Occupation: College Student with a double major in Domestic and International Law
Hair Color: Ashen brown
Eye Color: Grey-blue
Skin Tone: Fair
Height: Five feet and six inches
Weight: One hundred and eighteen pounds
Languages Spoken: Fluent in English, French, Spanish, German, Italian, and Russian
Hobbies: Dancing (specifically ballet), playing the violin, horseback riding, reading, writing, debating, archery
To finish off the application, I find the stamp of my family's crest and firmly eject the ink to the back of the paper. I shake it dry and strut to the ebony wood chest, generously provided by Avenue Paiyn Law School, where I strip from my uniform and carefully select more appropriate attire for such a life-changing photograph. Deciding to stick with professionalism, I sport an elbow length silk blouse, plum knee-length skirt, and ivory flats. I play with my waves and decide to brush them until luminescent, and gloss my lips quickly (I'm wearing enough makeup otherwise). I pick up the form, to find it pleasantly dry, and calculate the time from my watch. There. That's another hour and a half before I have to be back for Intro to Philosophical Reference to Law. That should be plenty of time.
It's almost comical. I'm so concerned to get back to class in time, but if I succeed and get Selected, it wont even be a part of my life anymore. But maybe all for the better. Philosophical References to Law is a useless course. But the Selection; it may as well be one of the most important things I've taken part in so far.
Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!
Oooooohhhh Cameron's six! Kind of nefarious. It didn't exactly make me like him so much as a character, to be honest, but I could only guess that you guys don't like him so much either… hahahaa! But at the very least he wasn't… with… another girl. A lot of you seemed to think he was. BUT NO I HAD TO BE UNPREDICTABLE! I hope you realize that Cameron's six have nothing to do who will be main characters (except for Aspen, who, as my protagonist, is a main character and also one of Cameron's six), but some, of course, will be. I'm beginning to draft who my main characters will be, but I've decided that I'm going to need a whole other category to fit so many of your AMAZING characters into. There are quite a few that I'm fascinated by, but don't believe that I'll be able to write properly, and I'm extremely anxious about that. So, I'm creating another category in the hierarchy of the characters. First, there's Mains (I'm PRETTY SURE they will be the only characters with POVs, some exceptions), Upper Supporting, Lower Supporting, Minor, and the Eliminated (which don't fit into any other category). Tell me, which people (royals included!) that you've seen so far would you like to see as a main! Tell me in the reviews!
NEXT! THIS IS IMPORTANT PLEASE READ IF YOU PLAN TO SUBMIT A CHARACTER! This was my LAST chapter of introductions before the actual Selection, so the next will be the Report where the Selected are announced! I'm not exactly sure when I'm going to post it, but I'm going to need ALL FORMS COMPLETED BY THAT POINT! I'm going to fill the currently unreserved provinces with throwaway characters, but please PM me if you're interested in taking one of the spots. There are also a LOT of people who have reserved provinces, please try to get your applications to me AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. I'd really like to get this competition going, and I cant do that without my Selected! Please aim to get them to me by next week!
Thanks! Submit and review! See you guys next chapter!
xx. Scarlett
