Boiiiiiii this took me so damn long to write… Here you go, another chapter!
I'd like to thank my (divinely incredible, in every way) reviewers, Sora Kalopsia, XOStarbrightXO, jenhen48, wolfofstark, 4Love4Love4, Cookiedoodles168, Issi Herondale, and Artemis' hunters (x2). I was genuinely surprised at the amount of support I got on the last one, but pleasantly in every way. Love you all so much, lets try it again;)
Hope you like it!
…
Lady Adriana Foster
Today was Friday, October 4th and I'm pretty sure I was gonna be the last date before the Report but Prince Cameron canceled.
I'm not sure exactly what to take that as. He kept his two dates yesterday (Pepper, though, looked like an actual ghost all this morning and Clio looked at her funnily all day long, as if she just wasn't sure what the two of them could possible have in common), and also his date this morning (Mahalia, who hasn't stopped smiling since she missed breakfast earlier today), so what exactly was my issue? Did this mean he wanted to go back to his elimination streak (unimpressive and disheartening as it was) and wanted to spare me, or was no longer interested? Does it have anything to do with me at all? It could, in reality, just be poor planning on his part. This was the first Illéan Capital Report any of us Selected would be on. It was impossible to come up with a good reason to cancel our date if I didn't know what this day entailed, preparation wise.
But oh, did my maids know a thing or two about preparation. As it would be my "first live television experience" (as about 20 different people have told me, as if nothing I had done in this competition had yet been televised, even though it was, and sort of embarrassing but also kind of awesome at that), it was important, as one of my maids –Kirsten, I finally learned- put it so eloquently, "to be so hot it'll make His Highness so damn sorry he canceled his date with you this afternoon that he whisks you away as soon as the Report is over". She was scary bitter about the whole ordeal, even though Prince Cameron promised he would reschedule.
Regardless, Kirsten, Emily, and April (only took me a week to learn the names of these women, but they seemed pretty unbothered about it) made me more than "hot", as they had promised. Hugging my body was a marvel of a dress, something I don't think I could ever have thought up. Clinging to my waist, torso, and a significant part of my legs was shiny fabric with tight sea green, before flopping out to create a mermaid bottom. A layer of embellishments acted as a division between bodice and skirt, and the haltered top of the gown was beautifully green and beaded. My flaming, auburn springy curls were painstakingly straightened, and pushed behind my ears to show the exquisite diamond drops that hung from them, matching my bracelet and embellished high heels.
Slap a tiara on me, and I could even be mistaken for a princess.
"I feel like I could just kiss you guys, right now." I breathe, with crimson painted fingers covering a properly glossed set of lips as I admire myself in the mirror.
Kirstin grins ear to ear, and April, despite her shy aura and unexplained shell, smiles at the floor. Emily, although especially unimpressed when I told her about my 'natural redhead' joke as I was telling my maids about my interview (or the other attempts I had made at humor) seemed pleased with me.
"Save your kisses for the Prince," Emily reprimands, stern-faced while clearly trying to suppress giddiness. I secretly think she was a 'lil nervous when she got put servicing a country girl from Carolina. I certainly didn't come into this contest as pretty as some of these girls. But they made it work anyways, by some miracle.
"Eh, I need the practice. Y'know, if you're interested." I turn around to meet her saucer eyes and offended posture. Kirsten physically snorts.
"Respectfully," Emily replied, refusing to meet the shadowed eyes she had done a half an hour ago, "no thank you."
"Emily wants to save all of her kisses for her boyfriend." Kirsten teases.
"Rodney isn't my boyfriend." She reports defensively.
"Well, you wish he was." Kirsten places her hands on her hips, ditzily refusing to back down. "Maybe he could protect you from the bombs like he protects Adriana's door. You'd like that?"
"Enough, Kirsten."
"You wanna grow a pair and-"
"Kirsten," April interrupts, grabbing the brunette's wrist softly enough to make her jump, "seriously. Please stop." That was the thing about April. Whenever she said anything at all, you listened. Kirsten nods, barely, and drops the subject entirely.
Emily, mindful of the major event I had to undergo tonight, looks at the clock and reports us the time. "It's already 4:25, you're going to need to make it down to the Women's Room, before the Report."
"Why there?"
"We have it under strict orders to send you there, so Miss Avery may walk you down to the studio as a group."
"Do you think you'll have some sort of a crash lesson?" Kirsten asks.
"Maybe," I respond. I sure hoped not, but it wouldn't exactly be surprising. I look behind and my maids and give them a queasy smile. "I should probably go now. Wish me luck?"
I'm obliged quickly. Kirsten even hugs me, nearly causing me to fall over with so many inches of heels on.
I close the door quick, and join a few girls as we make the journey to purgatory.
In truth, I was less than excited to be on live TV. Sure, I could imagine Jason's hopeful silent prayers for my success, Cooper's clapping and whooping, Evan beaming and hanging onto my every word, and Janet's near-tears as she watched me just smile and move around on stage, but still… Two years as a near-Walsh third child, and I knew I had people in my corner. But that didn't account for the first fifteen, when I didn't even have my own support or faith sometimes. I loved the spotlight on a smaller scale, like attention from my foster family (even the negative kind, as long as I could tell they still cared about me through it all), or from some of the farm hands when boredom got the better of me, but a population of so many hundreds of millions I'm not even sure the full number? A little bit out of my ballpark.
"So are you guys excited?" Aspen asks, clutching her wrist a bit nervously, wincing as she chaffed her palm on the onyx of her bracelet. She bites her bottom lip nervously, as if she had something to worry about. But I remember (albeit jealously) how much the people seemed to love her. Aspen was a clear people person, and there was no doubt in my mind she'd crush it tonight while most of the rest of us sat their floundering. Her perfect side swept curls made me seethe, and the beautiful nighttime sunset ombré of her skirt caused me to feel inadequate. I looked around, but the other girls didn't seem to match my jealousy. Or at least, they didn't show it.
"I certainly am," Mahalia bubbles, pale yellow and intricately embellished flowers in her dress matching her jubilance.
"Well, someone's had their happy pills this afternoon." I joke, trying to pick up some of her excitement.
"Oh, you know." She rolls her eyes playfully and laughs along as the group of us walk.
"I'm feeling a little tired, actually." Lea admits. "I had a terrible night sleep, last night."
"I'd snap out of it, if I were you." Audrey reprimands. Aspen and I look at her a bit funny, not sure how sarcastic she was being. She remained expressionless, but didn't talk again until we all split up, back in the Women's Room.
Girls sit in clumps around the room, in cliques that had been formed since our first meal together. Not so rigid, exactly, but I wasn't used to talking to many people here besides my maids, Prince Cameron (and at that, barely), Avery, and my friends. This was okay with me, of course, but I knew I needed to talk to my family soon enough as well. I promised to write a bunch, but there wasn't time.
The only thing out of the ordinary in this room was that Queen Nadia and Princess Cassiopeia were nowhere to be found. Usually each of the female royals sat in their corner, basking in their excellence like they probably deserved to. Sometimes they would casually strike up a conversation with a Selected near by, but that was rare. I considered that they'd probably try to get to know us better once Cameron had narrowed down his girls a bit, but then again, he had eliminated plenty of us already. Maybe they were waiting till the Elite.
Princess Elena is all alone, not in her corner, but by a group of three of the Selected: Thera, Waverly, and Delilah. They seemed to get along fine, but it was somewhat weird for a royal to be talking to any of us. Even if it wasn't me. Princess Cassiopeia and Queen Nadia were both nowhere to be found. But as long as they were there for the Report, I didn't think it mattered much, even if it was mysterious as to why they were missing.
I join my friends on one of the couches by the window, where sunlight streams in to bounce off of Harper's blonde, bouncy ponytail and lighten the green in Raven's eyes. The two converse while Cat sits close, listening casually.
"Ahhhh there's our tiger!" Raven smiles sarcastically as I walk over. She fiddles with her sweeping skirt in black: the only color I had seen the girl wear so far in the competition. But it suited her, I always thought. Raven may look to be 'damaged' or whatever, but she's always been sparkly to me. Like Edward Cullen, maybe.
"Missed me?"
"Always." Harper sings, smiling charmingly. She was good at the whole 'charming' thing, when she wasn't too busy being very eerily distant.
"Aw how sweet."
"Well, you know me." Harper goes back to playing with the vase of flowers on the little stand next to her chair, taking a second to look at the palace's driveway as if it was a crashing ocean or the rolling hills of Ireland. I think that would be nice, anyway. If I had to pick anywhere to escape, before my live death on television, I'd like somewhere with an ocean. Or the rolling hills of some quaint European city. Or maybe both. I think anywhere in the Britain Sub-Colonies could probably offer me both…
Conversation slows to a chatter, then to silence, as Avery Caxton walks into the room. Dressed in the same black pencil skirt, white blouse, and neat bun as she did this morning, her appearance catches me off guard. For some reason, I think I expected her to be dressed up and ready to come on stage with us. But instead, she informs us that she'll be directly on the sidelines, watching closely no doubt.
With that, however, we collectively realize that it's time to go. Avery tells us very specifically not to curtsey for Brenan as we step up for our interviews, and not to over share. Over-animation, under-animation, drowsiness, rushed speaking, and mumbling should be minded, and avoided at all costs. I try to keep it all retained in my brain, but I have a rather unfortunate habit of taking the information Avery gives me and accidentally pushing it out the other ear.
"Do we need some powwow or something?" Harper suggests, looking for Raven. She was superstitious, as all of us had gathered, and if she thought we needed it, we had to jam one in fast.
"I think we're okay." She replies with an eye roll. She was very particular about her superstitions. We were just beginning to figure them out, but they were obviously things Raven had been thinking for years, if not all her life.
"Just checking."
A short walk to a basement near the staircase made for a quick journey. We still had fifteen minutes until the Report started, and we all waited in anticipation. Avery ushered us all to our seats on a row of risers. She arranged us alphabetically by province, which I supposed made sense, although I was disappointed to be near people I had barely talked to. I found, however, that Lea was surprisingly chill (and assured me she had recovered from her drowsiness from before), and Waverly was very sweet, so I figured things could be worse.
Princess Elena got her own white bubble chair, and waited a few minutes while her family, one by one, took their seats as well. I watched, with probably all remaining Selection members, as Prince Cameron (who I was still angry at because he blew off our date this afternoon, but not so angry), dashed up in a light grey and white suit with black loafers, strutted to his own seat.
As Brenan walked on stage, and shook hands with each of the royals, I realized (in fact, I almost physically gasp) that we were on live in a probably less than a minute. It was hard to move; hard to breath, but I never felt more alive at all before this moment.
…
Lady Ember Saffron
We were getting close to show time, and I knew the seconds were ticking down. My foot was sleep. And my nose was a little itchy. But I certainly wasn't doing the worst of all the girls, even just the ones immediately around me. Cat wouldn't stop scratching herself, Ivy was taking rather rapid breaths in attempts to calm down, and Pepper looked like the walking dead. I tried to say something; help the girls if I could. It wasn't like I was perfect in this situation, but it wasn't like I wanted the rest of them to look bad.
"Uh.. hey Pepper? Maybe smile? You look like you're going to a funeral and we're about to be on TV!" I try to sound excited and funny, as to not scare her, but the poor girl (in either charcoal or black designer, it was hard to say, with expensive earrings, beautiful blonde curls pushed over her shoulder, and nice matte lipstick. She looked just as stunning as she always did, but she acted as if she was about to go on national television with her front teeth missing and mascara running down her cheeks. She went everywhere like that, it seemed like, but it wasn't as if I typically payed much attention) looked like she was about to cry.
Brenan Gavin straightened his tie and touched his hair, was handed a handheld mic from a stagehand, and straightened his posture. Someone offstage called a quick countdown, and I immediately relax into a bright smile. TV… I'm all of a sudden on live TV. How exciting. How… fricking exciting. And a little nauseating.
I wore a smile to mask my need to throw up. It worked out pretty well for me.
"Good Evening Illéa, glad to have you here on this Friday's segment of the Illéa Capital Report." Brenan begins with confident ease. "Before we speak with the Selected, as I'm sure the majority of us are all here to see, we have a few announcements from the Advisors." I let myself check out, and run in my head Avery's advice for today. And also Drew's advice. She had the most natural stage presence of anyone I'd ever met and besides, I figured long ago that the royals wouldn't really tell us, if something was wrong. What would I care if they said something, if I knew in the back of my mind how many things went on behind closed doors?
Scruffy men in tweed suits and 1980s style creases in their pants take residence at a podium by the side of the stage, adjacent to where the rest of the Selected and I were sitting. They pull out crinkly papers from their pockets, where they had probably haphazardly thrown them earlier in the morning, and dried sweaty palms off on their pants.
Now there was a man or two (or probably all of them) that I could have schmoozed into giving me poor Gino's bail.
The day I signed up for the Selection, and a few of us went down to bail him out, we weren't allowed through the door. The price of bail is a lot more expensive than we thought it would be, especially because Gino "failed to fulfill his court-mandated service" or something he was supposed to do around some park a long time ago. And so, as if I wanted another reason to need so desperately to be Selected, my friend was still squatting in the slammer.
Thank goodness for me, they literally pay us weekly to be here. More money at once than I've ever made in my whole life. I hoped my boys were eating as rich tonight as I did now at every meal. I've always thought we were one in the same, me and them.
Despite my maids' initial protests, I wear our gang's signature red bandana on my wrist, instead of the bracelet they originally picked out for me. It didn't exactly go of the theme of dark and brooding, as my black velvet dress seemed to suggest, but I've refused to take it off so far.
After the Advisors talk for a few minutes, Brenan resumes the stage.
"Alright, Ladies and Gentlemen. Our beautiful Selected girls, only nineteen of who are remaining, have been at the palace now for the past two weeks. They've had a chance to get acquainted with the staff, each other, the royals, and the man of the hour. Prince Cameron, could you come down and speak with us for a second?" Prince Cameron joins him at the front of the stage, unsurprised by not happy about it, clearly.
"Your Highness, what can you disclose so far about how the Selection has been going for you? Are we any closer to finding our beloved queen in from the pool of girls behind us?" They both look back, as if to examine each of us. The audience chuckles, and I wave to them because why not? I'd like to be the charming one.
"Well, there are certainly a few girls I've taken a particular liking to." Prince Cameron admits, almost a whisper of smile on his face but not quite. I can hear some girls besides me take in sharp breaths, but I'm not sure why. It wasn't like he was about to marry one of them just like that or anything.
"Ahhh really! Care to disclose any names?"
"Oh, I don't feel that'd be fair of me." Brenan laughs at Prince Cameron's rather un-funny remark. "I haven't been very subtle, thus far, by eliminating girls very quickly who I found a lack of interest in."
"Ah, yes, and you've been very controversial because of your mass eliminations… Could you tell us a little bit about what you were thinking as you sent home these girls?"
"I decided, when I had to start preparing for my Selection-"
"Emotionally of physically?" Brenan interrupts with a smile and laugh, prompting the audience to do the same.
"Well… mostly emotionally, but I suppose both." Prince Cameron tries to get back on track, almost clearly trying to hide some of his annoyance. "Anyways, I decided a long time ago that I would be very upfront and liberal with my eliminations. I don't want to waste my time on a relationship that will never work: I want to find my wife as quick as I can so we can spend the rest of our lives together." The audience coos and primes, but I feel like gagging. Prince Cameron as an emotional sap? Is this the same prince that eliminated thirteen girls on their second day here?
"How incredibly romantic." Brenan rouses applause form the audience. "Anyways, I think we're going to let you back in your seat now so we can start meeting some of those lovely girls you were talking about earlier!" Prince Cameron nods, in his solemn, brooding way, and goes back to join his family. "Lady Raven Cortez, could you join us on stage?"
From almost the entire other side of the stage, Raven gets up and is the first of any of us to meet Brenan Gavin, with her practically trademarked smirk. She's full of sarcastic wit and sass, in her interview, with a sort of casualness that has to come naturally for her. Brenan seems to find her hilarious and charming, and the night is official kicked off on the right foot.
A lot of the other girls go, some charming and relaxed, and others rather shy (ahh Pepper, what'll we do with you?), and by the time it's my turn, I feel prepared enough as it is.
I pick up my black skirt as I walk around the other girls in order to get to the front of the stage. I shake Brenan Gavin's hand and take a seat next to him, smiling as wide as I possibly can.
"Lady Emberly Saffron, you look stunning this evening." Brenan smiles his easy smile that I've seen so many times. His arms relax on the sides of his chair, sporting a blue blazer and matching pants.
"Thank you," I reply politely.
"If I may ask, why the bandana?" I must noticeably brighten, but Brenan looks just as inquisitive as if this would be a ground breaking revelation. "It doesn't exactly fit in, if you don't mind me saying, with the black of, say, your dress."
"I don't mind at all!" I clasp my crossed knees and play with the knot tied around my wrist. "It's just something from back home." I smile wide. I can practically hear the hollers from the boys back home. Ah, how proper! A good noble lady like myself wearing a freaking gang sign on nationally broadcasted TV. I almost want to laugh as well, picturing them dying by some busted, broken down TV, straining to get a good shot of me.
"Oh really? Why don't you tell us a bit about yourself, before the Selection?"
"Well, back in Likely, I was just Ember. Or, sometimes Emmy. My… brothers… had all sorts of nicknames for me, some of which I liked more than others…" Brenan laughs. "But anyways, I was just Ember. No one necessarily special. Home was a little bit cramped, but we all grew incredibly close as a family. I'm a tattoo artist by trade, but I loved painting and drawing as well."
"Are you part of a big family?"
"Oh absolutely." I laugh, albeit a little bit nervously. "We never exactly had much, but we made do."
"I see. Were they all supportive of your choice in signing up for the Selection?"
"Well, there were mixed reactions. Of course some of them couldn't be more supportive, and even encouraged me to join. But you must know how brothers can be: they've always been protective of me, so I think some of them teased me about it so they could get me to stay. Or maybe just for the sake of teasing me about it, I guess it's hard to be too sure." I laugh. Lady Ember, they taunted, the Selected Daughter of Illéa from the province Likely. And now look at exactly what happened.
"Well, as someone who's the youngest of four boys, I certainly know what you mean." Brenan laughs, and I beam in response. "So how would you compare your life back at home to your life here, at the palace?"
"Oh, well, it really is such a luxury being here." I respond. "I mean, as I said before, we didn't always get to eat at every meal back home, and we all shared the same bedroom, and, you know, stuff like that. Here, I'm treated like I'm already royalty. The level of comfort they make sure I have here has made me so grateful. Everyone here is so kind, and in general, it's been very nice."
"So how would you say things have been different, people wise? Have you been able to formulate relationships like you used to have back home?"
"Well, not quite in the same way, but of course I've made a lot of really close friends. I'm so thankful to have them here with me while we all go through this together."
"I'm glad you feel that way. Keep them close." Brenan clasps his hands with mine quickly. "It was very nice to meet you, young lady, you can return to your seat." I oblige with a bright smile, and wave toward the camera again. My handkerchief loosens a little bit, an falls around my elbow, but I fix it quickly as I walk back to my own seat.
Hope you enjoyed the show, boys. I miss you a lot.
…
Lady Aspen Marx
Both my dress and current emotions are an aurora. Yes, bright and beautiful, but also shifting every four and a half seconds. Maybe that's a bad analogy. But in my mind I think it makes sense.
What doesn't make sense? Why does everyone have to be more interesting than me? That's not quite fair, now is it? Maybe I shouldn't be talking about fairness. I know it's not my place to decide that. But at the same time, it's hard not to be a little anxious to be on stage (in front of millions, mind you) when I have yet to do much of interest yet. Except, of course, joining the Selection. But in that regard, we're all in the same boat.
With sweaty palms and chafed wrists, I try to let my nervous energy fall away with an aurora of a smile. How stupid. I'm smart enough to know it doesn't work that way.
"Lady Aspen, how are you on this fine evening?" Brenan asks me, his blue eyes shining. It's as if maybe he's trying to infuse some of his sparkliness into me. For some reason, I always thought he had dark eyes. I was wrong. I'd like to think though, at the very least, he doesn't want me to fail. But more than that, I don't want me to fail.
"I'm good, thanks for asking." I smile easy, trying to reciprocate Brenan's friendliness. Friendly and sparkly… can I have some of that?
I try not to think of Chandler's steely glare against the TV as she watches me, seething. Or of Blanca's transparent laughter in the privacy of her studio apartment. I know that she is. That she's laughing. My sisters always adored watching me flounder. It happened a lot. Or- maybe a lot is an exaggeration, but it happened enough to where I know I can expect it. Now isn't that just pathetic?
"In the very first interview we ever had with you –the one taking place after your makeover was finished, as it was broadcasted on last week's Report- you expressed your very clear excitement to meeting His Highness, Prince Cameron. You seemed to hold him in a very high esteem. How are you feeling now?"
"Well, my opinions have hardly changed." I blush and laugh quietly. "I mean, I guess we've only had our five-minute interview together, but… still. Even though I haven't gotten a date yet, I'm feeling really happy, being here. Just knowing I have the chance to love someone like him… Well, it must make me amongst the luckiest girls on Earth." The audience coos. "I look forward, of course, to knowing him a lot better, but I doubt I'll be disappointed."
"That's wonderful, Lady Aspen. I'm sure he would be lucky to have you." Brenan smiles genuinely. "I wonder, however, what are your opinions about his abrupt eliminations. I know that for some of the public, this has been very controversial. What do you think about it?"
What did I think about it? A lot of my friends seemed to think it was hasty, and reckless. Was it hasty and reckless? I mean… He did know each of those thirteen girls for only five minutes. How could he have been so sure about them so quickly? Then again… How could he have been so sure about me so quickly?
"Well, I think it's good how decisive he's being, actually." I say, once I'm sure I've made up my mind. This isn't the time to question his logic. I'm pretty sure there had to have been logic behind his eliminations. "It sort of lets us know, all of us who are still here competing, that he doesn't want to fool around. You can tell that His Highness is looking for an actual, serious commitment. Or, I mean, of course he is… He is picking the country's new Queen, after all… But being here to compete means to me that I'm not wasting my time with someone who isn't as serious about the relationship as I am. And I say, thank goodness for that." I laugh in a sort of relieved way, glad I was able to finish my rant without sounding absolutely crazy. Or wait… do I sound crazy?
"Well put." Brenan nods his head, as if signifying his respect for my words. I think I'd stand by those words. I meant every one.
"Well, it was certainly nice to meet you, Lady Aspen, and hear your input. You may return to your seat, thank you." I smile quickly and do as told.
The rest of The Report is somewhat of a blur. I pay attention to the other girls interviews, but I allow my mind to be a little bit distracted. I mean, good God that was my first ever interview on live television!
I can only imagine the fast-paced thoughts racing through the minds of the other Selected, in the same way they're racing through mine. Adrenaline courses through my veins, and my temples are absolutely throbbing. My mind swims, leaving me a little loopy, but alert enough to recognize (and smile and wave in response) when Brenan begins to close down this Friday's Report. God, what a rush.
Not immediately sobered, Ivy flocks quickly and begins to ask about her interviews. My shy little friend shined on stage, and I tell her as such. She doesn't seem to believe me. She asks about it for a few minutes. I try to comfort her generically, but in truth, I'm not paying much attention to pretty much anything at all.
Avery releases us to the privacy of our rooms, saying that we're allowed to take dinner alone. Take some peace, and maybe a second to recover from the stress. I began to take increasing notice of the fact that each of us –possibly excluding Ivy- were so… regular. Not to say it in a distasteful way, just all of the girls who were used to fame were already gone. Serena, Manhattan, both reasonably famous performers, were no longer here to help, for examples. Collectively, I think we did fine without them, but then again I can't say that subjectively.
I change into pajamas (a beautiful cream satin nightdress and thick grey robe, with my favorite, brand new fuzzy slippers), throw my hair up, and remove my makeup. Bailey gets on the phone quickly to order me dinner from the kitchens, and I sit and read lazily while I wait for it to be ready. Page flips accompany breathy sighs and absentminded thoughts… pearly trails of brainlessness.
It's hard to think much at all.
In somewhat of a haze, I eat my dinner, brush my teeth and wash my face, read a little more, tell my maids good night, and shut off my lamp. Without so much of a second thought, I fall into a mindless trance of sleep.
It's hard to maintain my mindlessness when the sirens go off a few hours later. In fact, I wind up thinking everything at once. The most pressing of which: someone's attacking.
Today I went on live. Will I still be going on living tomorrow? My chances are shifting like the colors of the aurora. Like my nerves, like my dress: inconsistent.
Ahhhhhhhh I like my cliffhangers. If that so much counts. Whoops.
Make sure you tell me what you think, and if you haven't told me some ideas for your character tag, do that too! Remember to review!
Love you all!
xx. Scarlett
