Quentin let out a sigh of relief as the budgetary meeting finally came to an end. Sure, he was good with numbers, but they were always dreadfully boring. He packed up his things and followed his father from the board room. They had decided to raise taxes to help cover the costs of the war against New Asia that had been going on for as long as Quentin could remember. They were winning, of course, but wars were expensive and money had to come from somewhere. Between that and the food rations, Illéa was in rough shape. The citizens were unhappy, but did that really matter? His father said that the war was in the best interests of the people, they were just too stupid to realise it. They arrived at his father's office and Quentin set his stuff down on a side table.

"As I'm sure you're aware, the people are unhappy, protests and riots in the street," King Jamison said, glancing at his son. "Pretty sure these attacks will reach the palace, unless we do something about it."

Quentin nodded. He, of course, had read the reports of uprising amongst the provinces, which had been swiftly and severely punished. That, however, only seemed to lead to more problems.

"Which is why I'm proposing that you host a Selection," Jamison said.

"It's not a bad idea." Quentin admitted, running a hand through his dark brown hair. "I could use a wife, I was thinking about asking for a Selection, but the timing never seemed right. Are we sure we can afford it?"

Jamison smirked. "Oh, we can more than afford it, especially with the tax hikes."

"Perfect," Quentin said.

"Now, there is the matter of Liam to discuss," Jamison said, as he leaned he sat in his chair and leaned back. "Typically princes get a Selection, and well Princesses are sold off. But he hardly deserves one, does he?"

Quentin shook his head. His younger brother was a piss poor royal, could barely read and write, therefore couldn't take part in royal functions that required speeches. His tutors claimed he had dyslexia, but Quentin and their father knew that he was really just lazy.

"For that reason, I'm going to arrange for him to marry Princess Anaelle of New France, he can become her problem when they're both of age."

"There might be a slight problem with that…" Quentin trailed off. "I'm pretty sure Liam is gay."

Jamison was quiet for a moment, processing the information. He pressed a button on the intercom. "Bring in the boy." he ordered his secretary. He then locked eyes with his oldest son. "What makes you think that?"

"Well…" Quentin trailed off. "I've seen him kiss a boy, one of the servants' kids."

Jamison clenched his jaw and his blue eyes darkened. Of course Liam had to ruin even this. That kid had been nothing but problems since the moment he took his first breath. He wasn't kept waiting long, soon the double doors to his office swung open and Liam was unceremoniously pushed inside. He stumbled slightly, but caught his footing. Liam was only slightly taller than average, with light blonde hair and delicate, almost feminine features. He was on the scrawnier side, and was mostly skin and bones. Quentin couldn't help but be reminded of their mother every time he looked at the blonde, and knew that was why their father despised him. And could he blame him? Liam was the reason his mother was dead.

"Is it true?" Jamison demanded as he leaned back in his seat and looked his youngest son up and down, eyes filled with contempt. "Are you a fag?"

All the colour drained from Liam's face and he stared at his feet, clearly unsure how to answer the question with avoiding a punishment. "I…"

"Don't bother denying it, boy," Jamison snarled as he stood, hands clenched into fists. "Answer me."

"I-it's true, sir." Liam said, ducking his head.

Quinten watched as his father stalked towards his younger brother. In one swift motion, he drew his fist back and punched the boy in the face, the force knocked the fourteen year old to the ground.

"You're useless," Jamison growled. "I was going to marry you off to Princess Anaelle, but now I'll have to make other arrangements for you." He emphasized his sentence by kicking Liam in the stomach. The boy curled in on himself, not bothering to move or defend himself. Quinten watched, uncaring as the scene played out before him.

"Get up!" Jamison snapped.

Liam quickly uncurled and pushed himself to his feet. There was an angry red mark on his cheek, which Quinten was sure would bruise. Liam stuffed his hands into his pockets and kept his eyes glued to the floor.

"Isn't the younger Prince of the German Federation gay?" Jamison asked, turning his attention to his eldest.

"I believe so, father," Quinten answered. He wasn't the heir, which Quinten supposed was a good thing, no children would come of whatever union occurred.

"Good, then Liam will go to him," Jamison said with a smirk.

Quinten's eyes widened slightly at this, he knew the prince was ten years older than his brother, and he highly doubted that anyone would agree to the match. He glanced at his younger brother, who balked at the idea, but kept his mouth shut.

"Unless there's any objections, you're both free to go," Jamison said, then narrowed his eyes on his youngest. "As for you, boy, you are to stay away from anyone who could be of interest to you, in fact, you're restricted to your room except for meals and public appearances for the foreseeable future."

Liam merely nodded, accepting his fate and Quinten wondered idly if his father would actually let him eat, he often withheld meals from Liam as a punishment, but still made him sit at the table to make it worse on the boy. Quinten supposed he should feel bad for his brother, but every time that guilt surfaced he pushed it down by reminding himself that Liam was responsible for his mother's death, and suddenly the guilt was gone.

"I'll make the arrangements, you'll be gone the day you turn eighteen," Jamison decided, and dismissed his children with a wave of his hand. "Quinten, be sure he goes to his room." he added as an afterthought.

Quinten walked from the room feeling somewhat relieved, in four years Liam would be gone and he wouldn't have to deal with the constant reminder of his deceased mother. He glanced over at Liam who obediently started to walk in the direction of his room. Quentin trailed after him, annoyed to be tasked with seeing him there. Why couldn't a guard do it? He sighed as he followed his brother down the halls of the palace and up the flights of stairs.

"I should probably tell you I'll be hosting a Selection soon," Quinten said as they reached his younger brother's room. "Try not to bother the girls too much, they shouldn't have to put up with a disgrace such as yourself."

Liam merely nodded and stepped inside of his room, closing the door behind him. Quentin waved down a guard and informed them to ensure Liam didn't leave his room, then he simply left. He wondered what kinds of girls would be in his Selection, he hoped they were good looking and wouldn't cause him too many headaches, he wasn't in the mood to deal with their petty drama.

Welcome to my story! This is your standard SYOC, the Crown Prince hosts a selection and hopefully finds love.

There are however some rules for submissions.

1) The royal family bios and forms are on my profile, please send in all forms in a PM with the character name as the subject line.

2) To reserve a province, please PM me.

3) If your character is going to have a traumatic background please PM me and ask for approval first, this isn't to say that I'm going to say no, I just don't want this story to be angst central.

4) Not really a rule, but I am looking for someone to make the German Federation Prince. If you're interested please PM, he will be appearing in the story.

And that's it. I'm looking forward to seeing what everyone comes up with!