Out only slightly sooner than the last one, lol. Planning on outlining it soon though, which will hopefully help with the wait times.
I hope you enjoy!
Chapter Five
The boys left quickly, leaving Bea alone and dripping in front of the king.
She knew it must look bad. She was soaked through, dripping on the palace floor and holding her heels in her hands. Bea could only hope that she wouldn't be scolded too severely for it…
King Abernathy's gaze burned her, but she didn't lower her head in shame. She had been outside during a downpour, what else was she supposed to do?
"I see you've met some of the selected," he said. His hands were folded neatly behind his back, and in a way, Bea hated how perfectly kingly he looked.
He didn't deserve to be king, not after what he had done to her family.
Bea pushed the thought to the back of her head with a smile. "I have," she said. "But I still don't understand why this selection is even happening. Not when Corrine's is right around the corner."
King Abernathy chuckled. "Beatrice, I wasn't lying at The Report," he told her. "It really is a birthday gift for you, something nice for my granddaughter."
He must not have known that she knew the truth, because there was no reason for him to be calling her that. She wasn't his granddaughter, and she never would be. Prince Oliver was her grandfather, she had known that for years.
She wanted to counter his words and remind him of all of the laws that he had put in place that made life awful for anyone born out of wedlock. The laws that would affect her much worse if she wasn't of some royal blood, and would completely bring Illea down if they knew about her father.
But she knew better than to try to fight with the king. He had never struck her, but she had seen the bruises on her father, and she knew what had happened to her grandmother.
She wouldn't fight with the king. Not when the situation was calm.
"Well… Thank you," she said.
King Abernathy nodded. "Are there any selected that stand out to you yet?" he asked.
Now this was interesting. Bea hadn't expected that King Abernathy would be trying to get the scoop on her love life, but then again, she knew the story of his selection, Queen Aurora had stood out to him instantly.
"Not yet," she said. "But I only met a couple of them today, and I want to give all of them a chance."
Once again, King Abernathy nodded. "Of course." He cleared his throat. "I have some work that I must attend to, but I will see you at dinner."
Bea watched as the king turned around, and then she remembered something. "Do you know where my father is?" she asked.
King Abernathy looked over his shoulder. "I believe that Adrian is in his office. There were some pressing matters that he needed to address."
This time, Bea let the king leave the room, then she let out a shaky breath. She had no idea what had just happened. King Abernathy had been talking to her, engaging in a regular conversation. He didn't try to fight with her, he didn't say anything about her illegitimacy, or make any comments about her father beyond what she had asked of him.
He had seemed genuinely interested in the selection, and he had seemed sincere when telling her that it was just a birthday gift.
But then again, he had been the one who ordered a hit on her father during his selection.
Bea took another breath, then looked around. She was alone, dripping wet in the main foyer of the palace. Like always, she was a mess…
She made her way to her room and dried off, then walked to her father's office.
When she reached the door, she knocked against its hard wood. If her father was too busy, she could always come back. But she had been in the palace for days now, and she had hardly been able to see him.
Plus, he had also been interested in hearing about the outcome of the group meeting.
"Come in!" She heard him call.
Bea opened the door, then frowned when she saw her father.
On one side of his desk there were letters and papers stacked almost higher than him. On the other were even more papers, though some of them were crumpled up.
Her father looked worse than the desk though. In one hand, he held a pen that hovered above the paper. His other hand was against his head, seemingly the only thing propping him up. His wireframe reading glasses were also on the desk instead of on his face.
"Dad?" she asked.
Adrian startled, then turned to look at her. "Hey, Bea."
Bea's frown only grew as she looked at him. "What's going on?" she asked. "Do you have a migraine?"
"It's nothing," he said. "I'm okay."
She stepped closer so that she could see what was on the desk. When she did, she froze. These letters were from all of the different provinces, and her name was clearly written in her father's handwriting.
"Bea, I can explain…" Adrian said.
Bea looked at her father, at his tired eyes. They looked pained, like something bad had happened. Something bad that involved her.
It always involved her, didn't it?
Her father sighed, then ran his hands through his slowly graying hair. "Some of the provinces weren't exactly… on board with your selection," he told her.
Bea frowned. It wasn't the most surprising thing that she had ever heard in her life, if she was being honest. "Okay? But I don't understand…"
Her father broke off the rest of her sentence. "They're boycotting the selection," Adrian told her. "Twenty eight of the provinces are refusing to send in men."
She knew that she should feel something, shock or hate perhaps, but she didn't. Instead, she just felt numb. Twenty eight provinces decided not to send men all because she wasn't Jehan's daughter.
"Oh," she whispered. It was all she could think to say.
Adrian reached forward and grabbed her hand. His hand was the same strong and warm hand that Bea had always found comfort in, but not this time. "Beatrice," he began.
Bea shook her head. Twenty eight provinces decided that she wasn't worth a chance at love, the same twenty eight provinces that she would have ruled over if she was Jehan's daughter.
"It's fine," she said, though she could feel the tears starting to burn in her eyes. She resisted the urge to wipe them away in front of her father. It felt like her chest was being ripped in two.
Was this why King Abernathy had given her a selection? To show her how much of the country hated her? To laugh in her face as she cried in her father's office because the selection size wasn't even big enough to qualify as the group of the Elite?
Adrian stood up and wrapped his arms around her, and Bea found herself melting into the protective hold.
"If there was anything I could do to change this…" Her father whispered. "I'm so sorry, Bea."
She didn't let herself cry. She wouldn't give Abernathy the satisfaction. Instead, she pulled herself together in her father's arms.
Did the king know that her father was her greatest strength? Did the king know that his nephew was wise beyond his years? Did the king know that she and her father made the perfect team?
She certainly hoped not. She didn't want to lose that too.
After a few minutes, Bea pulled away from the hug. "So, what can we do?" she asked.
Her father sighed. "I'm not sure yet," he said. "I've been trying to work on that all day… Every day that goes by with King Abernathy on the throne is a day we get closer to Illea tearing itself apart. Everything would be so much easier if he wasn't on the throne anymore…"
Bea stiffened. She knew better than most people how her father felt about the king, but he rarely verbalized it. Thinking things like that wasn't considered treason, but saying them aloud could be… And they had to be extra careful, if anyone found out their ties to the disgraced members of the royal family…
"Dad," she said softly. "Remember what you told me years ago?"
Adrian looked at her, his tired blue eyes studying her green ones. After a moment, he sighed. "That there are spies everywhere."
She nodded. It was a horrible truth, but one she had been taught years ago. The price of knowing the family secret, was also knowing the truth. There were people in her family who were out for the blood of others, and anyone who knew that was at risk.
It was so unfair that her father was in the middle of it though. Adrian had done nothing wrong other than her conception, and yet he was blamed for everything. She knew that it was because the king was crazy and jealous, but he was the one who had caused the bomb at the palace, not Adrian.
She was pulled out of her thoughts by her father's voice.
"Why is your hair wet?" he asked.
Bea instinctively reached up and touched her hair, then laughed. "The rain," she told him. "I was picnicking with the first group of the selected when the rain started."
Adrian grinned. "Same thing happened during one of my dates," he told her. "Lilac and I were at the dog park when it started to storm on us."
She found herself smiling at her father's story. It wasn't every day that he told her stories from his selection, and sometimes he would only remember part of what he had wanted to tell her.
All her life she had been wanting a selection, she had wanted to have this fairytale like what her ancestors had experienced…
She had it now. It was right there, waiting to be grabbed with both hands. Her selection, her fairytale was right in front of her.
It wouldn't be perfect, twenty eight provinces had boycotted, but maybe she didn't need a large group. The boys earlier had seemed nice, maybe the other selected would be as well?
Adrian sighed. "I need to keep working on this," he told her. "But I'll see you at dinner, okay?"
Bea nodded as she tried to push back the hatred for King Abernathy. He always forced her father to do all of his work, or at least the work he didn't want to deal with… And of course, her father would never say no to him, not when he had so much to lose.
"I'll see you then, Dad," she said, then left the man who should have been the King of Illea to do the work given to him by the tyrant on the throne.
All of her life, Bea had been left in awe at the size of the palace, but that didn't make going down dozens of flights of stairs any easier.
It was dinnertime, and she knew that if she didn't hurry she was going to be late. In the midst of planning her article, planning the selection, and thinking about the boycotting provinces, she had completely lost track of time.
She had no doubt that King Abernathy would make a spectacle of her if she was late, and her father would have to watch in silence as he did.
Bea wouldn't do that to him. She wouldn't add any more to her father's suffering. He went through enough, there was no reason that she would be contributing any more than she already did.
She was rounding the last flight of stairs when she stopped with a gasp.
She stood frozen as the man at the bottom of the stairs turned towards her. The second she saw his slanted grin, her heart dropped into her stomach.
There was no way.
Of all of the men to be chosen…
"Good evening, Beatrice," he greeted.
"Lysander," she said, though she wanted to run away. "What are you doing here?"
He was a journalist for The Illean Times, her rival in more ways than one… Had the king called him here to do a story?
He let out an easy laugh, one that Bea recognized from the few times she had seen him on television. It was a conversational laugh, as far as she knew, he wasn't laughing at her.
"The same reason why every other young man is here," he told her. "To win the heart of Prince Adrian's daughter."
Of course. Life wasn't supposed to be easy, and apparently the selection wasn't either.
Bea held in a sigh, and instead tried to smile. She gripped the stair rail so tightly that her knuckles were white. "I didn't think you would join," she said. "Considering that we're rivals."
He looked up at her, and dammit, why did his hazel eyes have to sparkle in the light of the chandelier? That was the curse of Lysander Ellsworth, no matter how much she hated him, it didn't mean that he wasn't gorgeous.
"Where's the fun in romance if you don't hate your lover just a little bit, Princess?" He asked.
He was going to make her late. He was going to get her in trouble…
Bea walked down the rest of the stairs and by him. If she didn't hurry, the king would probably have Lysander write an entire article about her being tardy as well as illegitimate.
"I didn't realize hate was a requirement with love," she said when she realized he was following her. Of course he was following her, he was going to be late for dinner too if he didn't.
"Beatrice!"
Bea froze, then turned around at the sound of Jehan's voice. "Mother? What's wrong?" she asked.
Jehan rushed up to Bea, then placed a hand on her arm. "Please tell the king that Adrian and I will be unable to make it to dinner tonight," she said.
Bea's heart sank even further. She should have known… All of the signs had been there when she was in his office, but she had chosen to ignore it. "Another migraine?"
Jehan nodded. "I'm afraid so," she told her. "And it's worse than the last one."
Bea wanted to complain, to say that she didn't want to have dinner with the king and the selected without her father, but she knew better. She knew that it would be childish and silly of her, but also that her father would force himself to come to dinner and make himself even sicker for her sake. And that wouldn't be worth it.
"I'll tell him," she said. "And you tell Dad to feel better."
Jehan nodded again, then gave her a quick hug. "I will. Thank you."
Bea watched as Jehan went back up the stairs towards Adrian's room, then she turned back around to a wide-eyed and head-tilted Lysander.
She didn't have time for him though, and she wouldn't be answering any of his questions. She walked by him, even as he called out her name.
But Bea couldn't keep her heart from pounding in her chest. She would definitely be late for dinner now, and she had bad news for the king…
I hope you enjoyed! I'd love to know what you thought!
Thanks for reading! Love y'all!