Alexandra's POV

"You may now kiss the bride," the priest says.

Alex and I both have to keep in mind that millions of people, worldwide even, are watching the ceremony. Still, with his eyes smiling, he kisses me softly and quickly.

We fly off to our honeymoon tonight, and I have no idea where Alex is taking me. He just said someplace romantic, somewhere where we don't have to worry about his father.

I think it's so unexpected how I'm standing here, now married to a man I never thought I'd love. Alex pulls back, and the crowds are still cheering. Then we sign some papers so they get me in the Pierre family tree.

I'm a Pierre. I'm eighteen, and I'm married and pregnant.

They crown me the Dauphine of France, married to the crown prince. I am now Princess Alexandra Amberly Pierre of Illéa and France.

Alexander and I walk down the aisle to exit, and Alex's uncle is there taking pictures, alongside my father. I'm really glad he chose to do this. Seeing my father, the king, doing an actual, normal job is like seeing a giant mouse shrinking back to normal size. It's comforting, and I'm sure everywhere in the world people are thinking what a great man my father is.

Alex and I linger a bit around to greet and thank guests for coming. We get smiles, hugs, congratulations, and we return them. After all, we are married.

We're married.

I'm not sure if those words will ever make sense in my head. It's funny how two months ago this was an arranged marriage. And now we're joined by love and law, and more importantly, by choice. I've been thinking my entire life about how this would be hell.

I even came up with anagrams for some words (falling in love: Lo! An evil fling; married: ram ride). I even thought love and marriage were against me (love and marriage: die, anagram lover!).

But everything is so different right now, like the world suddenly wants to orbit and revolve the other way.

"Are you excited for tonight, ma cherie?" Alex whispers huskily in my ear. I nearly swoon right in front of the Swendish duchess. When she leaves, I turn to Alex and teasingly smack his shoulder.

"That was embarrassing!" I say. "Don't do that."

He smiles and leans in even closer; so close I can feel his warm breath and his soft lips hit my ear. "Don't do this? Why not, my love?"

I mentally fumble for a witty remark, but I'm saved by Queen Francena. Alex's mother, and I guess, my mother-in-law.

She embraces me in an embrace. "Congratulations, my dear," she says, in a smooth, silky accent.

I smile graciously, curtsying. "Merci beaucoup."

Francena waves it aside. "No, no. No need. I must speak with Alexander first."

I still curtsy and leave them to greet other guests. I'm too curious about what she's saying to my husband, and I'm literally itching just to know what they know.

A breeze blows over me, and I nearly shiver. The air smells fresh and...like gunpowder? I look at the perimeter of the church, around corners and alleys, but I can't find anyone suspicious. I look to the rooftops and...

Oh, no.

A hooded figure with a sniper is on the roof of an adjacent building, poised and pointed to...

The shot rings in the air like a bell. Screams and yells soon follow, and I'm trying to find Alex.

"The king!" I hear.

I see Alexander past the disarray, his eyes transfixed and gawking at his father's dead, bleeding body. Then he roars like an injured bear, like a man that has just been stabbed repeatedly by a sharp knife. The already horror-filled air seems to paralyze me. I've never seen Alex so petrified, and it is so frightening to see someone who is so brave and kind so afraid and terrorized.

When someone shoves past me with a bony shoulder, I'm forced to move to stop myself from falling. I run to Alex, now on his knees. He doesn't do anything, doesn't touch his father. He knows as well as anyone else that it's too late.

The guests are still alarmed, but the initial terror fades away as they notice that there will only be a single gunshot. More gasps of surprise fill the air rather than screams and cars driving away.

"The king," someone whispers again.

I reach Alex and put an arm around the man I love, tearing my eyes away from the corpse. It smells like metal.

"Alex," I whisper in his ear.

His eyes flicker over to mine, looking like a dim light bulb. "Guards!" he yells, standing up so quickly it knocks me over. "Get my mother, Alexandra," he says, extending a hand to help me stand. I take it, and he nearly yanks my arm out of its socket.

I rush to find Queen Francena, and I'm surprised to see her perfectly calm compared to her surroundings. "Your Majesty," I say. "Alex wants to see you."

She sighs, as if she's just absolutely weary and uninterested right now. She nods and allows me to lead her to Alex. "What is it, boy?" Francena says, exasperated.

Alex clenches his jaw and clamps a hand around the woman's arm. "Ow! Alex—"

He says nothing as he drags her back inside the church. He lets go of her arm roughly, and I'm almost expecting him to slap her.

"How could you do this to me, Mother?" he says, his low voice echoing throughout the church.

"Alexander, I do not know—"

"Do not deny it!" he yells, and I swear the stained glass windows will shatter.

Queen Francena glares at him. "You said you wanted your father gone. You knew I would hire an assassin."

"But on my wedding day? How could you be so inconsiderate?!"

"Alexander," she starts.

"No, enough. I should have never trusted you to do this. I said we would outlive him. Why today, of all days?" Alex sounds near to tears, and I want to embrace him right there.

"I didn't have a specific date in mind," Francena admits. "I just told him the most convenient and most unexpected time. I'm so sorry, son."

"No, you're not," Alex growls. "You are not the least bit apologetic. You never loved Father."

"You didn't love him either!" she retorts.

Alex shakes his head. "At least I respected him."

And with that, he leaves the building, and I follow close behind. I put a hand on his shoulder, and I'm expecting him to shake it off. But he doesn't. Instead, he takes my hand in his and pulls me in for a tight embrace. I hug him even tighter. I can feel him shaking, and for a moment I think he's crying.

But no.

Alex is laughing.

"What is it?" I say, pulling back to look at him, wanting to know if he finds humor in something or if his laughter is mirthless.

"I'm so sorry, Alexa," he says sincerely, rubbing my cheekbone with his thumb. "Our wedding was supposed to be the start of something amazing, and yet it was the end of something else."

"Don't be sorry, Alex. It isn't your fault. At all."

He sighs. "I guess you're right. I'd feel worse if I actually devised the plan."

"But you didn't, and you never would. You're much too compassionate for that."

He pulls me to him, and I rest my ear against his beating heart. "We still have months before we reign as king and queen," he says, slightly rocking back and forth. "My mother will most definitely lead France until she retires."

"I didn't know your mother is almost as vindictive as Henry."

"They are certainly a match made in Heaven."

The camera flashes start drowning us again, so Alex and I go to the limousine waiting for us and drive to the reception, as if nothing ever happened.

As soon as the windows obstruct us from view, Alex pulls me roughly against him and kisses me feverishly. My hands want to roam all over his sculpted body, but we must look presentable for the guests.

"Tonight will be a great one," he murmurs into my ear, making my heart stand on edge. "Our honeymoon..." He trails off on purpose to kiss me again.

"Alex," I say, breathlessly pulling away. "We don't have to consummate our marriage. I mean, I'm already pregnant."

He smiles, and the word seems to make him happy. "But that's the thing. I want to make love to you as your husband, and you as my wife. I want you to know that I love you, and that when I look in your eyes, I know you love me too."

I cradle his cheek in my hand. "Alex, I love you."

He smiles cheekily, and nothing ever happened.


Tess's POV

Glass rains down from the sky like hail. A man clothed in black stands several yards away from me, his gun pointed to a figure with a gleaming crown. It's King Henry, I know it.

But when the crowned man looks up, I can see that it's not the king of France.

Matthew's pleading, horrified blue eyes don't meet mine. I try running for him, but something holds my limbs in place, like I am a wooden plank. I watch as the man puts the barrel against Matthew's head and pulls the trigger. I cry out in agony as Matthew crumples to the ground.

The pain in my head is immense, like I am the one who has been shot.

Matthew dies, and I'd die with him.

"My love, please wake up," I hear vaguely.

My heavy eyelids snap open. Matt's face is inches away from mine, and he's completely intact. I wrap my arms around his torso and hold him to me. He smooths my hair like he always does.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he whispers.

I shake my head. Trying to recall the dream would be trying to relive a death sentence. Matt seems to understand. He presses his lips to my forehead, and I try to even my breathing.

Why do dreams occur? Why do they appear when we are at our most vulnerable point? Images that terrify us plague us, even when our eyes are closed.

"Matthew," I choke out. "I'm so tired of crying and feeling afraid all the time."

I'm expecting words of comfort, maybe, or something along the lines of "It's okay to feel that way."

"Me too, love," he says, sighing. "Me too."


I'm not dead. Or MIA. Or stuck in a cornfield with no wi-fi. See what school does to you? Yeah, so I can't even remember the last time I updated. I've had this chapter halfway written last night, I think. Then I thought, heck, I'll just finish it tomorrow.

School is a blast. I haven't gotten lost yet because I ask people where to go (they're actually really nice; except for these girls a while ago who were like "Why do freshmen get to sit here now?" I was thinking, "Well, where do you want us to sit? The roof?).

OH! The Selection! More Selection, more Selection, more Selection. It's happening, you guys. It's happening.

QOTD: Which new Selection installment are you most excited to read? The Queen, The Favorite, or the two new books, with the first one being called The Heir?

Answer to previous QOTD: I really hope you guys read these stories. The Fighting Four is well underway, and I'm so glad we're getting reviews! And NEWS: lilythemermaid and I are so close to updating the first chapter. I really hope you guys love it as much as we do. It's not your average Selection story, but please give it a read.

Follow bita1614 and NinjaBallerina for more updates on stories! Also, follow/favorite The Fighting Four. When the new story comes out, make sure you follow/favorite that as well!

And we have a title: The Fangirls. Hope you enjoy it.

Finally, I'm a sucky lame-o loser. I'm so sorry, but my head is pounding because it's 11:34 and I'm quite exhausted from school. I just wanted to get this chapter out to you guys.

Love ya!- AcademicGirl