I have made a very big mistake.

I have reread The Selection.

I will never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever forgive Kiera Cass for The Crown

So now I'm writing Kile and Eadlyn one-shots as a coping mechanism. Ideas welcome!

In the process of my Selection, I learned a lot, not just about the boys, but about myself. I had to see myself as the public saw me: cold, spoiled, cruel. At first, it felt like a gaping wound. Later, it felt like a challenge, something I could and arguably needed to rise to.

I wasn't quite there yet. But I was about to be, as soon as I took the stage.

I remembered a conversation with my mother and Aunt May and Lady Marlee, when I'd cut my suitors down to the Elite. They're all front-runners! There's no bad choice! Now, looking at the three men left in the studio, I wondered if there was any possible way to make a good choice.

First there was Kile, a troubled look on his face, my former enemy and friend with benefits. He was the selfish choice, and I already knew I couldn't choose him. Literally, I'd banished him the night before. Kile had too many dreams to chase from inside the palace by my side. If I really cared about him- and I was keenly aware that I did- the right thing to do was let him go, no matter how much it hurt.

Then there was Ean, and how could I choose him, either? Calculated, charming Ean was perhaps the only suitor who could claim to be on my level, but he'd made it clear from the beginning he was incapable of having feelings for me. He offered something that, at the time, I wanted quite badly: freedom. A marriage that existed only when the cameras were running, none of that pesky emotional burden. That wasn't what I wanted anymore, and quite frankly, I wasn't sure it was what Ean wanted either.

Then there was Henri, my ray of sunshine. He was handsome, smitten with me, and one of the kindest people I knew. He had all the qualities of a good mate…except for speaking the same language. Even as he worked to learn English and I clumsily attempted to learn Finnish, we were years away from being able to communicate without a translator. Realistically, we only knew each other on a surface level, and how could we possibly build a marriage on that?

I'd even considered proposing to Erik, Henri's translator, but I knew that didn't come from a place of love. That was me looking for a way out, plain and simple. Realistically, I didn't know him much more than I knew Henri, and it was little better than what a marriage to Ean had to offer.

My original plan had been, when we got to this point in the show, to call the whole thing off. Now that, the reclaiming of my own heart, wasn't even an option, thanks to an insufferable prick known as Marid Illea. If I ended my Selection without a ring on my finger, it would give him the opportunity to propose, either turning the public against me or gaining some margin of control over the country depending on how I answered. Both of those things were worse than anything my three remaining Selected were capable of.

It would have to be Henri. He was still a major gamble, but it had the best odds of a positive outcome. We'd hire a permanent translator and the best language tutors in the country, and I'd do all the talking. Maybe someday we'd be happy. It wasn't exactly the future I'd dreamed of for myself, but that was the point. It was a sacrifice- a concept I was still dreadfully unfamiliar with.

But I couldn't do it.

Gavril introduced me and I took the stage, facing the boys, but I couldn't do it. Henri's hopeful smile, Erik hovering behind him like a shadow, Ean's neutrality, Kile's clouded expression. I couldn't make myself say the words I'd drilled into my own head.

Every moment I stood there floundering made it worse. The whole of Illea was surely watching, holding its breath while I tried and failed to pick a fiancé. I thought I'd gotten better- I thought I was ready to make the selfless choice, something that put the boys and the country above my own selfish desires.

I guess I was wrong. It was as if the words were yanked from my mouth; I had no control over what I was saying or the violent pounding of my own heart. Still, my voice came out strong and purposeful, as if this was what I had planned the whole time and not a complete one-eighty from the script I'd built up in my head. "Kile Woodwork, you have won my heart. Will you marry me?"

I don't know if the studio lights actually got brighter or if it was just the weight of the world lifting off my shoulders. The audience burst into applause and cheers. Kile swept me off my feet and hugged me, squeezing me so tight I could barely breathe. "Oh, Eady, thank god. I was so scared-"

I didn't get to hear the end of that sentence, because suddenly Ean and Henri and even shy Erik were joining us, crowing their joy for my decision. My parents and brothers too, even though they'd promised to stay on the sidelines, and even Josie, squealing about how she'd known it the whole time. I couldn't even be mad at her now, because we were going to be in-laws. What had I gotten myself into?

After several minutes of applauding, cheering, and a hug that showed no sign of ending, our host attempted to take back control of the crowd. "Well, isn't this exciting!" he boomed, gesturing to Kile and me. "Perhaps, a moment of privacy for the happy couple to discuss their nuptials? Let's have an interview with the parents…"

God bless Gavril Fadaye. As soon as I officially became queen, he was getting a big fat pay raise.

While the crowd expressed their disappointment, Kile and I were ushered to a dressing room backstage. I found myself growing nervous despite his grip on my hand. This had to be the first time I'd ever acted with my heart instead of my head, and it felt weird. Not bad, necessarily, but weird.

As soon as the door shut behind us, I had to ask. "Did you, um, tell anyone about my…ahem…lapse of judgment last night?"

The banishment. I meant the banishment. It had been eating me up inside since it happened, and I wished desperately I could forget my harsh words.

Kile shook his head, grinning. His blue eyes felt like they were burning into mine. "Not a soul."

I let out a shaky breath. "Would you mind, then, if we pretended it never happened?"

"I was hoping you would say that."

I had to throw my arms around his neck; there was no other choice. Relief. Excitement. A bit of guilt I couldn't quite shake. Selfish Eadlyn strikes again. "You would have said no, right? If you didn't want this?"

"Eady. Of course I want this."

I wanted it too. More than I had known I could want anything. But there had been a reason I vowed not to choose him.

My voice came out soft, barely above a whisper. "I feel like I've conned you out of the life you're meant to live."

"I feel like you've led me to it." After a moment, he added, "Idiot."

"I thought we were past that."

"I'm afraid not. For the rest of my life, I'm going to tease you and get on your nerves and call you out. Part of the Kile Woodwork Is Prince Consort experience." He straightened, looking down at me. He was annoyingly tall. "Don't think for a second I don't want this. Forget everything I said before the Selection. The palace was only a cage because you wouldn't give me the time of day. I want this; I want you. I love you."

"I love you, too." Embarrassingly and to my makeup's downfall, tears welled up in my eyes. I was suddenly certain I had made the right choice. "…idiot."