"I think maybe we die every day. Maybe we're born new each dawn, a little changed, a little further on our own road. When enough days stand between you and the person you were, you're strangers" - Mark Lawrence
Chapter 1: The Selected
Morning came too early, its light spilling into her room with perseverance cutting passed her curtains and into the crowed space. Her room was small but on the third level, the roof was tilted slightly, and she'd hung up ribbons she'd won from countless horse riding competitions. While summer was a busy time for the family, and those around them, winter was always slow; which meant time to learn skills and catch up on missed schooling. It also meant competition was rife among all ages.
Josie rolled out of bed at the sound of Laia storming out of her room and barrelling down the stairs. While Laia was a bundle of energy it wouldn't do to be up later than her. Josie opened her door and walked down the stairs rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Morning," She said to a very asleep Hugo. The boy simply groaned and rolled over, hitting his head against the wall. She continued, finding the kitchen busy as usual. The apprentices were back, they waved, she waved back. "Do you even go home?" She asked them, they nodded with grins on their faces.
Shaking her head she pulled a chair over and grabbed a banana, the chair had belonged to Leandro but that was irrelevant, he'd stood up. "Hey! That's my chair."
"Mine now." Leandro pouted and sat on the door, knowing he'd have to wait for someone to get up. "Morning, princess," a whisper came from behind her ears and Josie slammed her elbow into Hugo's chest. He gasped and crumpled. "Too low…" He breathed. Josie shrugged.
"Don't call me princess." Leandro laughed until Hugo glared at him. Their mother brushed in. "Are you ready to go, Josie? I have a meeting in an hour and I want to get that silly form in quickly." She glanced at the clock. Josie shoved the banana in her mouth and turned to her mother, her right hand up, showing her fingers; five minute? Her mother nodded, "Be quick about it. If we're late I'm blaming you." Josie ran up the stairs.
She pulled out her draws and found her Sunday best. Wrapping around the nicest necklace she owned she tucked in her brush, the letter, grabbed shoes and brushed her teeth the fastest she ever had. Down the stairs again she pulled on the shoes. "Done! Ready to go Mama!" Her mother nodded and they walked to the car.
It was parked outside the stables, old and worn it was used to pull carts when a horse was sick or when they needed to travel in to town. Hopefully it wouldn't break down. They climbed in and Josie settled into the front, a first. She touched the smooth leather and carved wood and felt a unique type of bliss. It soon faded as the car started, the engine growled and rumbled and the wind grabbed at her hair pulling it away as she brushed it.
They drove down the property's main road and onto the Line. The road had once been a railway track; the metal now ripped up and melted down. Soon enough they were passing the small village Josie went to school at, community kids sometimes came down to watch the Report with the rest of the people on Fridays, and every Sunday they had a market set up to sell food and wares.
The town was a lot bigger. It was where most old Twos and Threes chose to live and where old Sixes and Sevens had to live. There were some in the village of course, they cleaned the farm houses and help with markets and such, but most of them lived around the mansions and estates that the old nobles lived in. The road turned from gravel to bitumen ten minutes out from town, and they made faster progress. They passed small patches of farming land which probably wasn't that profitable, there was a limit to how small you could go; something her mother knew all too well.
She pulled out the letter, the slip inside. She marked the date down and checked over her responses;
Name: Josephine Anna Agrarian
Birthdate: 27 October 249
Age: 17
Address: 2039 Farmer's Line
Province: Bonita
Parents' names: Jorge Harris Agrarian, Alise Rea Agrarian
Parents' birthdate: 12 November 215 (father), 30 November 218 (mother)
Sibling no.: 9
No. boys: 4
No. girls: 5
Languages known (150 words or more able to be used in conversation): English, Spanish,
Notable skills: horse riding, farming, painting, flute, voila, theatre
Reason why you should be chosen (200 words or less; in clear, legible hand writing): I believe I have a good a reason as anyone to be chosen. I'm down to earth, I've got practical skills, I can talk my way out of most situations and my family is strong and stable. I believe in that most of all, much of who I am is my family.
Date admitted: 24 June 366
Josie looked over her response to the 'reasons' questions and frowned. She sighed, "Are you going to do what you said Mama, because you don't have too. I can't craft like you can, I tried, you can't see it right now but I got more space and it's only 52 words. I counted. I'm going to look like a buffoon." Her mother glanced at her.
"Craft? Aren't they just one word questions?" Josie shook her head.
"Most of them are, like how old are you, but I have to make up a reason why I should be in this competition." Her mother pursed her lips.
"Wasn't like that when I was a girl. Right, then this is our chance, is there a world limit?" She nodded. "200 words or less, clear and legible handwriting, can't let the rift raft in."
"Hmm. You see want I mean, Josephine? They aren't you're sort of people. I think you'll see that when you get there."
"If I get there, I'm not getting in with this I swear."
"Don't swear, Josie, it's bad for you." Josephine nodded and stared at the form. "I wonder why they want to know you're name, and how many siblings I have." Her mother didn't hear the question. The town began to grow up around them. "You think they want to find out what our old caste was?" Her mother sighed, and smiled.
"Doubtful, but maybe. Most likely they just want that for confirmation, and if they need to contact us. Say you fall sick, I'd want to know. They have our castes in system I'm sure, and our address is related to our caste; they won't be so blunt about it if they wanted to know, if they wanted to know. I know lower caste girls sometimes got chosen. After all, our Queen was a Five. Perhaps being old Fours will help us."
"What about siblings, that makes no sense." Her mother shrugged. "Maybe they just put that in there to thrown you off, if you were really curious you should have asked you're father, he will give you a theory to rival the best mad minds." Josie laughed with her mother and slipped the form away. "I'll craft you're response for you, if you'll write it. We won't have time when we get there." Josie nodded digging out her pen.
The hall was crowded but her mother brushed passed the masses with ease, holding Josie's hand lightly, pulling her through it. There was something about being an old Four, you weren't treated with distain by the lower castes and many of the higher castes – while they didn't like to admit it – needed them even more that they'd ever done before. They arrived at the desk and Josie handed over her form. The woman at the desk stamped it and scanned it. She passed it back and pointed silently to a series of stairs with a line of girls, all dressed their best, disappearing to an upper level. Her mother looked at the woman and handed over a few bills.
"For the wait," She whispered. The woman nodded and got out of her desk. She quickly led them to a smaller workers stair well. She nodded for them to go up and returned to her desk, tucking the money away. There were marks of a dozen or so girls having the same idea. They pushed open the door and joined the line as it turned. No one notice, nor complained. Josie only waited five minutes to have for photo taken; she smiled opening her eyes just so. She wanted that to be the think the camera noticed, nothing else.
She got off the chair and hurried over to her mother, who nodded and patted her head. "Don't worry, no one here has words like mine." Josie nodded looking over her competitors; it was easy to think that she won't have any competition. But a few of these girls were really pretty, while Josie wouldn't say she was ugly there were things one could only describe as plain or unfitting. She sighed, at least I tried, she thought, at least I tried.
Josie sat in the small school hall in the village. Every family who were close enough to walk or drive if they owned a car were there. The room hushed as the report began. The national anthem began to pay and everyone stood, holding a hand over there heart. They sang the song with the music; a grand choir was being filmed as they performed. In the hall it was a good thing that Josie's choir wasn't being filmed, the room of people echoed out the off-key music with surprising success. The worse the sang the louder they became, and the louder they became the worse they sang. It was over to quickly, and the Report room was displayed.
The royal family sat regally on two tiers of thrones; King Maxon, Queen America, and Prince Xavian at the front with the four princesses; Caia, Marlia, Lucienne and Daphne. For a long time Josie hadn't looked at any of them; other girls had their favourite royal, most liked Marlia, the striking image of her mother. The old noble girls liked Caia because she looked like her father and radiated 'royalty'. Josie had never found any of them real enough to 'like'. To have a favourite was like choosing a colour you wanted to call your own, and all the options were unnatural figurations of the mind. They were imagined, something someone had wished into place. She had always preferred the greens and browns of the earth.
Maybe she'd made a big mistake.
She was suddenly gripped by a shiver of cold; it ran up her spine and littered her skin with goose bumps despite the hot summer night. She took a shaking breathe as the normal announcements were made, she moved towards the wall, she felt her mother come up behind her. "Darling, are you okay?" She asked her voice soft. Josie turned to her, and knew she couldn't say that she regretted signing up. She knew that her mother had pulled more than a few strings to give her a running chance. Where could those favours have taken her family is she hadn't been so greedy. No, she'd use this to help them. If all went well some other girl with more influence and money would get picked and be kicked out just as quickly.
"Good evening, Illea." Gavril Fadaye stepped in front of the screen. His hair was grey with only wisps of the old colour it used to be. He had lines on his face showing his age. But his eyes were bright with life and no one ever called him old. "Tonight is a special night, for we begin the event of the year, the decade, the generation! Lovely ladies from every province will be given the chance to fall in love with our Prince Xavian." The camera panned to the prince who smiled and nodded his head slightly.
The prince looked nothing like his father, favouring his mother. His hair was a dark red almost brown, his eyes were light green like a reflecting pool, and his skin was tanned from hours in the sun, with his mother, talking to the masses. Yet there was something about how his eyes seemed to reflect your own emotions and not his own that made Josie suspicious. She was over reacting of course, if anything her suspicion made her suspicious.
She watched him as Gavril spoke, trying to glean just what the boy was thinking, was he happy? Was he excited? Did he hate the entire thing? Did he princesses were silly things of dreams, too? As she wondered she realised that just maybe, soon, she might just be able to ask him. The thought made her see what girl's saw in his tight smile; because if they got selected they might be able to find the answers to their questions.
"Now this time around, we are doing things a little different." If the room was hushed before it grew absolutely silent. Josie frowned, a little different? Queen America smiled, and Josie knew that if the Queen was happy about it, it couldn't be that bad. "This year two girls from every province will be joining the ranks of the Selection. Ladies and gentlemen, it's my pleasure to tell you the names of the 62 new Daughters of Illea."
Someone whistled. There was buzz in the room, people started muttering. "Six-two girls? Why? That seems a little extreme."
"More like greedy…" One boy whispered; he was shushed instantly, "Miles that's treason." Miles seemed to just realise what he'd said and clamped a hand over his mouth.
"Now for the first province…from Allens: Katrina March and Abygale Cook!" Gavril announced. The two girl's faces appeared on the lower screen. There was around scorn just the populace of the hall. Abygale March was notorious even in the small back water they lived in, who a girl like her was ever selected Josie didn't know, maybe it really was random this year after all. "From Angeles: Patricia More and Gwendolyn Edette." The list went on; so many girls' faces flashed onto the screen Josie felt overwhelmed. Bonita was seventh on the list, and all conversations ceased.
"From Bonita: Susan Clean and Josephine Agrarian." Josie frozen, her name seemed to echo around the school hall. She stared as her face appeared on the screen. It was Laia who responed first. For the others they seemed to think it was an other girl. There were shrugs and cheers, salutes to the girl on the screen. Who wasn't all prettied up, with out makeup or a big up do. She was who Josie wanted her to be, just Josephine Agrarian; old Four, blue eyes and a good explorer. It would be nice to think that that made her princess material but she knew it wasn't true. Her mother had more influence than Josie had given her credit for.
"Josie? Josie that's you! Eww, you're going to have marry a yucky prince." She shook her head. Heads turned, first to Laia then to Josie.
"It's you..." Someone began. Josephine closed her eyes, breathed in, opened them again, and nodded. Some eyes were of pity, some of annoyance, but then a little girl named Sahna began to clap. It was loud and brilliant. Josie smiled.
"Well if I'm a daughter of Illea; I think Bonita's representative is the best outcome." The claps grew louder, as more people joined in. Her mother took her hand and embraced her, Josie deepened it into a hug. Their was a tightness in her grip, "Come back to me, okay, darling?" She whispered into her daughter's eyes. Josie realised suddenly that her mother didn't want her to go; her mother thought perhaps this journey, this adventure would be so satisfying that she'd choose not to come back. She pulled her mother closer, kissing her shoulder, "I love you mother, more than I'll ever love any man. Family is there when you're heart leaves, isn't that what you told me?" Her mother pulled away, there were tears in her eyes, "Yes, darling, I did say that. Once." They hugged again, quicker this time.
The cheer was drowned out for a second, and then everyone stood and come over to congratulate her, and her parents. "Show those Honduraguans for us alright." One girl said. "Make sure that Abygale girl doesn't become Queen, got it?" Her neighbour told her, she nodded not sure what to say. The people swamped her, and she smiled at them responding best she could, holding her mother's hand. At last the commotion settled, but then someone said, "Do a speech, we don't get a lot of speeches out here."
"Speech! Speech!" the country folk yelled, euphoria filling the room, inflecting them all. "I can't…I…the Report is still on!" She told them, grabbing at straws, "I can't do a speech over Gavril." There was a consensus at that, and Josie slipped down against the wall.
"You'll make me proud, darling, maybe you'll enjoy it there. The Prince's eyes are your favourite colour."
"Yes, maybe I'll fall in love. I doubt though, I'm going there to solve a mystery and to give our family's fame a boost. Can't sell good food without have customers first." Her mother smiled and nodded, "You're right of course, absolutely right."