A/N: Two more chapters until we meet our first Selected face to face! Three more chapters until formal introductions! I know the exposition for this story has been crazy excessive, but this is an even bigger, more complex project than TBaH, so it's gonna take me a while to hammer out all the pieces before things pick up. Thank you for being so patient. I promise there is an actual Selection amongst all this!

The Thing About Best Friends

Elodie had been watching the train wreck when it happened, looking on in silent horror from the opposite wing of the stage as her sister ran off set. Panic alarms went off the moment "suck a dick" aired on live TV. She had been doing non stop damage control since.

She had not slept. She had not eaten. A cold cup of coffee, Elodie's fourth that morning, sat on the edge of her desk as she ran yet another report. Janus purred happily in her lap, napping the morning away without a care in the world. Oh, how Elodie wished to be a cat, to not have to worry about what anyone thought because cats were always adorable and universally loved. Cats didn't have to fight tooth and nail for acceptance and affection from people...from those they loved most.

Now, Elodie was just projecting. She needed to stop that, or she would end up dripping mascara on her papers.

A sharp knock on the door gave way to her assistant. It was still the same girl, stilettos and all, though her smile had lost some (most) of its luster. She looked like she had gotten as much sleep as Elodie had, i.e none. Elodie praised her silently for lasting this long. She really should learn the assistant's name, but it was still too early to tell if she'd make it to next week.

"The King is ready for you."

Elodie nodded and her assistant backed out the office with a slight limp. Elodie caught a glimpse of blistered, bloody heels. She knew those shoes wouldn't amount to anything good, not that Elodie did any better in her patent leather pumps. At least her shoes had orthopedic insoles. She wasn't that big of a newbie.

Gathering up her stuff and gently placing Janus in his extra plush bed, Elodie walked across the hall and into her father's office, ready to tackle the day.

The King of Illéa seemed just as deeply entrenched in his work as Elodie had been in hers, his head bent over a large volume of papers that littered his desk. Normally the desk was clean and orderly. Now, it was pure chaos.

"You've seen The Report?" he asked, looking up as Elodie approached. He gave her a grateful smile as she handed over a cup of coffee. That was something else they had in common: caffeine addiction. They would never kick it the way that they both fed it to each other, mercilessly.

"I have. My phone has been blowing up all morning," Elodie replied, trying not to sound too irate. It wasn't her father's fault Delia decided to make another spectacle of herself and drag the family through the mud. "You should have let me handle it."

"Delia was on air, with me. This is my responsibility," Dad said tiredly, his own dark circles giving him away. Yet, he still had the audacity to ask, "Have you slept at all Katy Kat?"

Elodie smiled at her childhood nick name as best she could. She would be fifty and her father would still see her as a little girl. "I'm fine. I still think I could - "

"I said that this is my responsibility."

The hurt was irrational. He didn't mean anything by shutting her down. Still, sleep deprived and strung out, Elodie couldn't stop the hurt that came at the heels of failure no matter how hard she fought it. "You don't think I can handle it?"

"I know you can handle anything," Dad said with a certainty Elodie did not doubt. "But it's not your job to handle everything. You don't have to take on the whole world by yourself."

"And neither do you."

"Touché. But I don't want you worrying about that. The whole mess will blow over in a couple days when the Selected start showing up at the palace gates and the press will have something new to latch onto." Dad was taking this far too lightly, in Elodie's opinion, but she did not want to fight with him first thing in the morning. "What we should be focusing on is the reception for the First Family of Allens."

Elodie nearly dropped her coffee mug.

The thing about best friends was that she had such a terrible time remembering she had one. She completely forgot Jordan was coming. Had time really gone by that quickly?

"When are they scheduled to get in?"

"Later today. I was planning on having a small dinner. Family only. How does that sound?"

"Sounds wonderful," Elodie said, and meant it. She was afraid Dad would want to make a spectacle out of Josie's return and invite half of the country. "I'll let my assistant know to clear my schedule."

"How is that I'm king and I don't have an assistant?"

"Because you have me."

Elodie placed her hand over her Dad's, giving it a squeeze. He smiled.

"Well, thank God for that. Otherwise, I'm sure I'd have drowned by now."

"I don't think so. You're the best king Illéa's ever had."

Dad reached up and covered Elodie's hand with his other. He didn't say anything in reply; he didn't have to. The creases in his brow spoke enough to his self-deprecating nature. No matter how many years he sat on the throne, he always found ways to doubt his abilities. Elodie knew it had to do with the traumas he endured early on in his reign, not even out of his teenage years and so easily manipulated by those he relied on. That was part of the reason he refused to retire. Not until I kick the bucket, is what he usually said with that wide, knowing smile. He was protecting Elodie. She knew that. If only he would let her protect him sometimes.

"Help an old man pick his tie, would you?" Dad said, getting up from his desk to stand where a different, more formal suit hung on the back of a bookshelf. There were two options: one with blue stripes and another a solid purple. "Usually your mother has opinions about these things, but seeing as though she's halfway across the world, your'e next best thing."

"The purple, for sure." Elodie pulled the blue one down for good measure, just so he didn't pick it out of deference. "And you're hardly old, you drama queen."

"I've got more years behind me than ahead of me. That counts as old in my book."

"You've got plenty of years left, old man."

Dad rolled his eyes and pulled at his cufflinks. For as long as Elodie remembered, he had always done that. Nervous habit, he said. And then his hands would stop for a second and his eyes would go far away. Elodie never knew where he went in those seconds before he finally let his cuffs go. He never told her that part.

"Now, what about that husband of yours. I was hoping to have the whole family for dinner."

The truth was, Elodie had no idea where Felix was. He hadn't come to bed last night, and she woke up before he got back from wherever the hell he ended up. She had been in the office or around the palace the whole day and not once had she even caught word of his arrival. He could have been dead in a ditch somewhere. Elodie thought that the idea should scare her more, should eat her up inside with fear for her husband's wellbeing. But all that was left was a pit of ice cold realization that Felix cared so little for she and their daughter that he could not be bothered to let her know where he was.

Of course, Dad couldn't know any of that. He was under the assumption that everything was sunshine and roses. So Elodie plastered on a smile and pulled the first lie that came out of her ass.

"He may have to work. I'm not sure yet, but I will let him know how important it is he comes."

"He works more than the both of us combined these days." Dad huffed, but he didn't question the excuse. No one valued a good work ethic more than Kaden Schreave. Which was why it always sure to stick. "This is what? The fifth family dinner he's missed?"

"He feels terribly about it." Elodie was sure Felix didn't even know he was missing something, that was how little he cared. Her stomach turned at all the lies she was telling, but she told herself that it was better than the shame that would come with the truth.

"Well, we will miss him."

Elodie wouldn't. But she couldn't tell her father that either.

Six hours and six more cups of coffee later, Elodie stood in the main foyer of the palace, a ball of nerves.

Jordan was coming.

He would be here any second, and all Elodie could wonder was if the off-the-shoulder red velvet evening dress was too bold a choice for dinner with her best friend and his family. It was too much. Right? Too formal. What the hell was she thinking! The only saving grace was that Dad was wearing his dressed-up suit and Essie was wearing a dress too...though it was much more acceptable for six year old girls to prance about in extravagant formalwear than twenty-eight year old mothers.

Not that Elodie was too old to dress up. No, she knew she married and had children young, that most women her age were just beginning their careers and adopting first pets after obtaining university degrees and accumulating a decade's long string of boyfriends. Elodie never had the option to do things at that speed. Elodie never had the option to be anything other than the kind of woman who wore red velvet evening gowns on weeknights to state dinners.

She used to dress up for Felix. There was a time when he would see her in something like this and wouldn't let her out the room without peeling it off her body. Now, he was an empty space at her side, too busy undressing a girl whose body had never borne a child and preferred leather to velvet.

At Elodie's other side, Essie swayed on her toes, butterfly Mary Janes gleaming blue as she clicked her heels together. She had picked those shoes out all by herself, begging Elodie to get them for her. Essie rarely begged for anything. Elodie had purchased them immediately, and then gotten a tiara commissioned to match. The tiara was missing from Essie's ensemble, her brown curls wild and untamed even though Elodie had ran the comb through them twice before heading to the hall.

Essie was nervous. She didn't particularly like new people. As happy and carefree as she was around her family, she could be terribly shy around guests. Elodie didn't want her to worry, though. She wanted Essie to like Jordan. More than that, she wanted Essie to love Jordan...and the rest of the Reinhardts, obviously.

There was no more time to dwell on nerves.

The doors opened, a butler announcing the arrival of Governor Jordan Reinhardt of Allens, accompanied by Mr Mathis and Mrs Josie Reinhardt.

It was such a formal, pompous introduction that Elodie laughed out of sheer shock. Never before had Jordan been announced before his parents, and from what Elodie could spot on the look on Jordan's face, he was just as baffled.

Oh, how she had missed that face!

Had it really been seven years? As soon as he stepped into her space, all dimples and warm brown eyes, scooping her into a tight hug, it felt like no time had passed at all. Sure, he was a little taller, a little more filled out around the edges, and Elodie wouldn't even begin to indulge in the thoughts of how good he looked in a bespoke suit. But he was still warm, still smelled like the same cologne he got for his sixteenth birthday, and his arms around her were tight enough that she knew he would not let her go until she pulled away first.

They must have been hugging for a bit too long, as a throat cleared to get their attention. Elodie pulled back immediately, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She didn't even dare look at Jordan for fear of what her face might do to betray her next.

"Sorry," she muttered, clearing her own throat - why had it gone dry? She put her attentions on a very perplexed Mathis and a very amused Josie.

"Do we all get hugs like that?" Miss Josie teased, pulling Elodie to her.

"They haven't seen each other in seven years, Josie," Dad said, and Elodie had never been more grateful to have him in her corner. "I didn't see you for seven weeks and I don't think I let you go for hours."

"I had been kidnapped and imprisoned in a foreign country, Kaden. That's completely different." Miss Josie pointed out, letting Elodie go so that she could see her face and all the laughter lines. "I'm just teasing. It has been too long. Look at you! So gorgeous!" Then, she spun on Dad, eyeing him up and down. "Ow! Ow! Looking good."

Dad went red in the face, awkwardly rubbing a hand on the back of his neck while Mathis just laughed to himself. Both Dad and Josie continued on with whatever little song and dance they had established over the last fifty years, and Mathis gracefully bowed out.

Mathis pulled Elodie into a hug, the last one of the bunch but still just as warm and welcoming. He didn't say much, that Mathis, but what he did not say, he could convey. That made him a good match for someone as loud-mouthed as Josie, and Elodie meant that in the nicest way possible, for Miss Josie both liked to talk and spoke at a loud volume.

With Mathis ever silent, Elodie allowed herself to finally, finally look at Jordan. He was looking right back at her, like he had never taken his eyes off of her in the first place.

"Good to see you, Governor," she said, the title strange to say in relation to him and not his father.

"I am still not used to that," Jordan replied, actually looking bashful. The politician in Elodie thought that he would have to nip that in the bud before someone got the impression that he was too soft to hold his own. The rest of Elodie found it very endearing.

"It will come, in time," Mathis said, clapping a hand to Jordan's shoulder in support. He could not have looked prouder to have his son following in his footsteps. And it could not have meant more to Jordan to have that prided leveled at him.

A tug on Elodie's skirts had her diverting her attention downward. Essie had been watching all the hugging and exchanges from afar, still skeptical of their new guests.

"And who do we have here?" Jordan asked, crouching down to the little girl's level. He was never one to be deterred, always smiles and friendly gestures. "Let me guess. This is the Princess Esperanza I have heard so much about."

Essie nodded, ducking her head and hiding in Elodie's skirt. It was a habit she was trying to break Essie of, but right now, Elodie's heart was clenching too tight for her to do anything about it.

"It is an absolute honor to meet you, Your Highness. You are even more lovely than the stories say."

Essie giggled, her face as red as Elodie's.

She nudged her daughter gently. "What do you say?"

"Gracias."

Jordan's smile was bright as he stood back up. "Beautiful and bilingual? Tell me again why I'm here? Surely you don't need me when you have such a talented princess to help run the country."

While he was talking about Essie, he maintained eye contact with Elodie the entire time.

"Alright Jordan, that's enough," Miss Josie chided, though she was clearly as enamored with the show as the rest of the group. She clapped her hands together. "Is it time to eat? I'm starved!"

Dad started ushering everyone towards the dining hall, directing like no one had been in the palace before. It was probably another habit, this one a lot easier to explain than the cufflinks, and soon enough Miss Josie started to mock him relentlessly for it.

The three adults walked ahead of Jordan and Elodie, probably letting them have their time to catch up. Only, how exactly did one start a conversation about their life for the past seven years? Would Jordan want a timeline of events? A summary? A set of memories? Jordan must have been contemplating the same thing, because he didn't say anything either. For someone as sociable and outspoken, Jordan had gone as silent as his father.

A few steps down the hall and Essie's hand came up to tug on Jordan's sleeve, drawing his attention. She had her best puppy-dog face on, eyes wide and long lashes batting against her cheeks.

"Can I show you my play house?"

"Not right now, cariña," Elodie intervened, getting down on her daughter's level no matter how hard it was in her dress. "We are going to have dinner first, and then you can play."

"But Mama!"

Essie pouted her bottom lip, eyes going glassy. Elodie knew that look very well. The waterworks were going to start any second.

"Surely dinner can go on without us?" Jordan tried, shrugging his shoulders. He seemed as eager to avoid upsetting Essie as Elodie was.

Elodie looked up to see that the rest of their party had stopped to watch the scene with open curiosity. She looked up at her father for guidance. This was his dinner after all, his grand plan. She would hate to ruin it.

"Of course. I was planning on a normal, uneventful dinner. For once." Dad said, laughing because they both knew there was never such a thing as an uneventful dinner. But they would make the effort for the Reinhardts. They deserved nothing less. "You two can catch up and join us later."

"Alright," Elodie conceded with a sigh, standing up straight to direct her daughter. "Lead the way."

Essie bound down the hall, running as fast as her butterfly shoes could take her. That was another bad habit Elodie was trying to break her of, but Essie had never taken to someone so quickly, and so she did not have the heart to correct it. Essie did not seem to mind that her Mama was walking much slower than she was, occupying her time by running dizzying circles around she and Jordan. Jordan took this all in stride, bless him, watching Essie run with obvious delight. He had never had siblings, and he didn't have children of his own. This whole experience must have been novel.

It gets old fast, she wanted to tell him. Just wait until this is your whole life, twenty-four-seven, non-stop. Put like that, it sounded like a bad thing, like taking care of her daughter was a chore, something to be suffered through. That could not ahve been further from the truth. While Essie's energy could be draining - especially when compiled with a long work day - Elodie would not trade a single second of her time with her daughter, not for anything. Which was why Elodie knew she would suffer through her marriage, why she would put her own needs last. Because Essie loved living in this palace full of love and laughter and both of her adoring parents.

Essie's play house was in the furthest reaches of the palace, crammed in some forgotten corner. And, of course, there was climbing involved. Easy for an agile child, but not so much for a woman approaching thirty in a restrictive dress. Elodie did her best, however, kicking off her shoes and hiking her dress to her knees. Her hair was falling out of place and her forehead shining with sweat by the time she was inside, but neither Essie nor Jordan seemed to care.

Jordan tipped his head back, admiring the multi-level play area around him. "What is this place?"

It was an extravagant space, set up more like a child's version of a loft with a half-spiral staircase wedged between the different roofing levels and a play kitchen tucked in one corner, a large dollhouse and tea table set up in another. Essie had left her dress up trunk open, costumes spilling out onto the floor, and her monogrammed bean bag chairs had marker stains all over them. So many bad habits, so little time. Elodie briefly thought she was failing at her duties as a mother, but Jordan wasn't judging.

"It used to be a crawl space in one of the servant's rooms, something one of Dad's old Selected showed him. We had it retrofitted for Essie."

Jordan let out a long whistle, impressed. "She's lucky to have such a good mom."

"Sometimes I feel like I'm the worst mom in the world," Elodie confessed, picking up on of Essie's many dolls and brushing back its hair absentmindedly. "Between all the long hours and meetings, I miss out on a lot."

"Growing up, Dad was always on business trips or conference calls or spending whole weeks in the office. Sometimes it felt like I never saw him at all. But when he was home, he always made the most of it, made me feel like he was never even gone in the first place." Jordan had a fond, far-away look in his eye as he watched Essie rummage through her trunk. "It's not the quantity of time. It's the quality."

Elodie tried to let herself believe that.

"I suppose the same thing goes for friendships?"

Seven years was a long time apart. Elodie didn't need to say it for Jordan to hear it. He had to have been thinking the same thing. This nervousness, these butterflies in her stomach that felt more like bees, couldn't be one-sided. Not with the way Jordan was looking at her now.

"Seven days or seven years, I'm always gonna pick up the phone."

Somewhere, somehow, Elodie knew that. She always had. So why, then, had it become so hard to call? It seemed like such a stupid worry now, to think that Jordan would be a stranger just because a few odd years had passed. Look at them now, shoulder to shoulder, smile to smile like nothing had changed at all.

"I've missed you, you know," she said, the words somehow easier to say now, her chest lighter for freeing them.

"I've missed you too, Princess."

Funny, Elodie had never believed anyone when the said that...until now. No one had ever made her feel missed before. Though, she supposed to feel missed, she had to first be wanted.

Of course, there was always one person Elodie could rely on wanting her...

"Do you like my house?" Essie demanded to know, pulling on Jordan's sleeve to show him her kitchen.

"Your house is the best house I've ever seen," Jordan replied, much to Essie's delight. To reward him for his praise, she gave him a piece of plastic toast. She held her own slice up to his, and the clinked plastic bread like one would champagne.

"You hungry yet, cariña?" Elodie asked, ready to go...if only because her poor heart couldn't take much more of this onslaught of cuteness.

Essie dropped her bread immediately, dashing over to Elodie's side and nodding her head. It was comical, how fast she could make that big head of hers wobble like a bobblehead.

Just like that, the trio descended the play house to rejoin the dinner party. It was easier getting down than going up, Elodie finding it easiest overall to butt-scooch her way to the ground level. Jordan and Essie both found her method hilarious, but she made it with minimal damage to her person and dress, so Elodie considered it a success. She did not, however, put her shoes back on. Once the heels were off, they stayed off. Dad would understand.

They were half-way back to the dining room when the revelry ended.

"What's going on?"

The new voice shattered any sense of peace and happiness. It was the exact voice she did not want to hear, especially now.

"Daddy!" Essie shrieked, running into her father's arms and laughing as he spun her around.

"Felix!" Elodie exclaimed, forcing chipperness into her voice to mask her panic. She scrambled to take control of the situation before Felix got nasty, but it was too late. Felix had seen all he needed, from the way Jordan was smiling to her red velvet dress. "You remember Jordan Reinhardt. He's recently been elected Governor of Allens and brought the family back for a trip."

"Pleased to meet you." Jordan stuck out a hand for Felix to take, ever friendly.

Felix, however, looked like shaking Jordan's hand was beneath him. "Normally those in the common classes use the proper honorifics when addressing members of the royal family."

Jordan reeled back, not expecting such a frosty welcome.

"That's not necessary, mi amor," Elodie assuaged, rubbing a hand down Felix's arm. He always was one to diffuse with physical assurance. "Jordan is a longtime friend. He practically grew up one of us."

"No, he is right. I apologize, Your Highness."

Felix smiled smugly. Elodie could feel his ego preening under her fingers. She wanted to pull back, disgusted by her husband's headassery, but doing that would only make the situation worse.

"Longtime friends, is that so?" Felix asked, less than friendly. "And how long will you be staying with us, Jordan?"

"Just a few weeks."

Crippling silence passed over them. Elodie hoped that Jordan would be brave enough to break the tension. She was ashamed to say that, when it came to her husband, she wasn't brave enough.

"I should be getting back to dinner," Jordan gestured over his shoulder. Then he looked back to Essie and smiled. "Thank you, for showing me your play house."

Essie smiled and nodded vigorously. She liked Jordan, Elodie could tell.

"Take her with you?" Elodie asked, knowing that whatever was about to happen between she and Felix was better dealt without Essie in the middle. That was probably the only thing they both agreed on. Jordan was gracious enough to agree, reaching out his hand for Essie to take. She did, small hands wrapping around his, blowing kisses to her Mama and Papa.

"Good night, Your Highness."

Jordan's farewell was given directly to Elodie; he barely paid Felix a passing glance. It pissed Felix off to no end, Elodie could feel him seething. He was, however, a consummate actor, smiling at Jordan's retreating form all the way until he turned the corner.

"What the hell was that?" Felix asked. He said it quietly enough that their daughter didn't hear, but his tone wasn't nice. He never liked it when other men spoke to Elodie, but this was something new entirely.

"I could ask you the same thing," Elodie fired back, offended and mortified by Felix's behavior. "Jordan is our guest. Would it kill you to be polite?"

"Would it kill you to show me some respect!"

The words slapped Elodie across the face. "Excuse me?"

Who the fuck was he to bring up respect?!

"I'm not blind. You're running around in our daughter's playhouse with this man who you haven't seen in years and you want me to be okay with it?" Felix exclaimed, the look on his face close to disgust. "You've lost your mind."

Maybe Felix was right. Maybe she had lost her mind. But she wasn't about to admit to it or apologize for it. So, she deflected.

"I'm sorry, but it wasn't like you were around to know what goes on around here," Elodie snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. "Did you even bother to remember there was a dinner tonight?"

"I did, actually, and when I showed up, you weren't there." Felix's tone was accusatory, his dark eyes narrowing into slits. "Who the hell knows what you two would have gotten up to had I not gone looking, not that you give a fuck about me."

For one, brief moment, Elodie saw nothing but red.

"Jordan and I are friends." Elodie took a step closer, the urge to rip her husband's throat out or cry overwhelming. "Don't you dare ever question my dedication to this marriage. I am not the one who has been unfaithful."

This time it was not words that slapped her. It was the back of Felix's hand.

The shock overwhelmed the pain. The sting of skin on skin was nothing compared to the fractured agony of a broken heart. The thing was, Elodie was used to living with that pain as well, so all she felt was an overwhelming numbness that chilled her to the core.

"You are just like your father."

Elodie hardly recognized her own voice, the amount of venom present enough to poison a whole city. Not that she needed poison when she unleashed the six words certain to cut Felix to the core. It was times like this that Elodie felt she deserved to be hit, the times the bitterness she kept suppressed reared its ugly head. That was the Illéa in her - the cruel, cutting edge that her great-grandfather possessed and who had gotten it from his great-grandfather before him.

She watched with a sick satisfaction as she made Felix hurt as much as he hurt her, if only for a brief moment before his anguish turned into anger anew.

Felix didn't strike her again though. He turned on his heel and stormed down the hall, leaving his family once more.