A/N: Annnnnnnnd we are back to Gabbi! And there's Aspen content! And the first of the Selected is introduced! This chapter was largely written to the cover of Somewhere Only We Know by Renee Dominique. Hope you all enjoy!

The Thing About Coincidence

The thing about coincidence is that it never worked in Gabbi's favor.

All the coincidences in her life, the big ones at least, were life-changing in the worst ways. Accidentally walk in on a conversation between your cousin and your father? Get knocked down the stairs and end up need emergency heart surgery. Get told you have less than six months left before you kick the bucket? Have your sister announce a Selection and get put under house arrest.

She hadn't actually told her parents about the six months bit. It was only by coercing the doctors into letting her break the news that had kept it all hush-hush. Truth be told, Gabbi was more terrified of how her parents would react to the news rather than the actual dying part. Or maybe it was her constant worrying about their reactions that kept her from processing just how short six months really was. By that timeline, she wouldn't even make it to summer. Would she make it in time to see Auden married? Would she make it in time to see this Selection through? There were so many things she was going to miss out on...and none of them were hers.

Sometimes - rarely - fate brought Gabbi exactly what she needed at the exact right time.

The doors to her rooms opened. Gabbi didn't hear her maid announce who it was, expecting the usual doctor or nurse for her daily blood draw.

Imagine her delight when she turned to see an old man staggering through, leathered skin wrinkled with age, silver hair catching in the sunlight streaming through the window. He kept his head held high with pride, a military neatness to his appearance. There was only one person Gabbi knew who fit that bill.

"General Leger!" Gabbi cried, jumping up from the bed to throw her arms around the old man's neck. "You've returned!"

For someone of his age, he was still rather solid in stature and force. He only wobbled a little, gripping his cane to stabilize the momentum of Gabbi's impact. Yes, just as she remembered: solid and strong and warm.

The General laughed, his chest rumbling with the sound. "Of course I have. And I hear you've been placed under lock and key."

"Mom and Dad are set on torturing me. It's miserable. They think I'll break as soon as I step outside my room." Gabbi lamented, pulling away and plopping back down on the bed, curling up in her oversized sweater. "You'll have to tell me what the outside world is like now. Are there flying cars? It's been so long since I've seen the sun."

"It has been less than a week."

"Your point?"

A smile pulled at his thin lips, the kind that Gabbi liked to imagine he would have given his own children when they said something particularly sassy had he had any children to sass him. He just had to make do with her.

"I was going to suggest we play a game of cards, but it would be a shame to waste such a beautiful day." General Leger looked out the window, a wistful look about him. "Care to join me for a walk?"

"I'm not allowed outside the palace walls," she reminded. Had he not heard her the first time when she said she was under house arrest?

"Well, then it's a good thing the grounds are fenced in."

Joyous! Brilliant! How had she not thought of that? Gabbi had never loved the General more than in this moment.

"You, Sir, are a bad influence." Gabbi couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation, grabbing her extra, thicker sweater with renewed vigor. She got cold so easily these days, it was never bad idea to layer up. Unfortunately, the result was her looking like a mix between a pilgrim and a matronly librarian. Not necessarily the most attractive, but hey, who did she have to impress?

Aspen pressed a finger to his lips. "Hush, or we will get caught."

Gabbi bit down her giggles and took the General's arm. He steered them down the hall and towards the servant's staircase. The whole thing felt like a taboo mission from his spy days, sneaking about her house like it was one of his targets to infiltrate. They ended up in the kitchen, and then snuck out the side door to the garden path.

The air was warm for autumn, the smell of earth and decay heavy in the air as the trees sagged heavy with all the leaves they refused to shed. They wouldn't change color, not for another month or so - one of the drawbacks of living on the coast. Seasons didn't necessarily change more than suddenly snap, taking the overbearing heat and leaving behind the chill of winter and shriveled piles of grey leaves. The grass was still absurdly green as it squished underneath Gabbi's boot, expressing her prints as she and the General forged forward.

"Mind telling me where we are going?" she asked. Not that she didn't like surprises; she still appreciated being surprised. It was that usually, the General had a plan. He was not the type of man for surprises.

"Shopping."

"Shopping?"

That was all he said on the matter until they reached a very familiar stop on this particular garden path: the royal cemetery.

They were going shopping for graves.

Gabbi fought the urge to laugh again. It was such a ridiculous notion, but to laugh at a cemetery would mock the dead. Not that she would have to wait much longer to apologize for offending them in person.

The idea of dying did not scare Gabbi, that much was true. But the idea of the General dying, though he was older and on his way towards a natural end, brought her nothing but sadness. She didn't want him to leave her. Maybe it was selfish, but she wanted to do all the leaving. That way, it would hurt less.

"You're not allowed to die, General Leger. You're immortal. You'll live forever and ever."

"I wish that were the case, my dear. Unfortunately, I think my time is coming to a close."

"I know the feeling. Maybe we will pass together, hand in hand." She took the General's hand and waffled it with hers, comparing his weathered, veiny hands to her smooth, soft ones. How different they looked to be decaying all the same. It was a silly notion, but Gabbi liked to be silly around the General. He was the only one who she could joke like this around, the only one who wouldn't take offense to her morbid tendencies. "You know, you are the only one who has ever treated me like I am here, present, living. You're the only one who has never shown me pity."

"That is because there is nothing to pity." Aspen squeezed her hand once, then pulled back. He looked at her with a mix of amusement and nostalgia. "I think you are the bravest girl I have ever met. You remind me so, so much of your grandmother."

This was not the first time someone had told Gabbi this, nor was it the first time by the General. She wished she had the chance to know this mysterious grandmother of hers, the one they said she resembled less so in body than soul. She had not inherited her grandmother's red hair nor her green eyes, but she had inherited her stubborn nature, rebellious spirit, and unreliable genetics. At least, those were all the things that had been said about her by various people at various times, so who really knew how much truth there was to the claims. It was only when the General said it that Gabbi believed him, but even then she wished she'd had proof. Maybe then Gabbi would know how her grandmother beat the disease that claimed her own father's life, and now Gabbi's. She refused to believe it was something as dumb as luck, but then again, Gabbi did get the Schreave genetics for luck...which were fairly poor given the terrible deaths so many members had suffered at such young ages.

And they were all buried here, in the family plot. Their tombstones were all filed in neat rows, clumped together in family order. None of them were particularly old, given the country's youth, but there was a fair amount of moss and vines creeping up around the more elaborate statues. Gardeners tended to trim the foliage down, but Gabbi liked the look. When she died, she would ask to have flowers planted on her grave so that maybe, as she decayed, something beautiful could live on in her wake.

Gabbi did not have to walk far to get to America's tombstone. It was joint with Maxon's, as was the time of their deaths. She knew if she looked over one to the right, Eadlyn's would sit beside theirs with the same date and time. And beside that was empty space.

"Maybe I should be buried next to her then, if we are so similar. The plot was supposed to be for Uncle Ahren, but I suppose he won't need it now." She tried to imagine a headstone in the empty space, how it would look. Would she pick something opulent or something simple? No matter how hard she focused, the image did not come to her. "It is sad that Uncle Ahren will be buried so far from home."

"France is his home. It has been for quite some time."

"Ahren Schreave, Crown Prince of France. That will be his legacy." Gabbi sighed, giving up on her vision. It simply would not cooperate. "I've always wanted a legacy, something to leave behind my mark on history. But it's too late now to become a great virtuoso or write the next literary classic."

"Your legacy will live on in the hearts and minds of those who love you."

"But that's not enough, now is it? Elodie will be Queen of Illéa one day, Auden flew half way across the world to be the Queen of Portugal, and I will be the girl who died of a broken heart." Gabbi laughed though there was nothing funny about dying. Her mother told her that every time she joked about it. Gabbi reached out to run her fingers along the cool granite, tracing the letters of her grandmother's name. "I want that put on my tombstone. 'Here lies Gabrielle: died of a broken heart'. Sounds mysterious...romantic, don't you think?"

"I think it sounds sad."

Gabbi paid him no mind. She didn't like it when the General started making sense, started making their conversations spin sense. Of course it was sad. The whole Schreave family was bathed in sadness. That didn't mean she had to take a heavy heart to the grave. Just a still one.

"I'm sure you'll want all your awards and rankings listed in alphabetical order on yours." she said, refusing to look the General in the eye lest he see them growing misty. "A record like yours, they're all bound not to fit."

Aspen huffed a laugh. "No, I think 'loving husband' will suit just fine."

When she turned, Gabbi found the General looking at the grave marked under the large willow tree. It was a smaller grave than the others, less opulent, but buried in the prettiest spot on the lot. In the spring, the willow tree bloomed and the blossoms filled the air like snowfall.

It had been so long since Miss Lucy passed that Gabbi tended to forget she had existed at all. How long, Gabbi wondered, would it take for her family to forget her?

"Do you miss her?"

"Every day."

"Me too." That much was true. What little Gabbi remembered of the woman was warm and sweet and scented like baking flour and roses. There were vague memories of summers spent in a small cottage by the coast, toes buried in the sand and none of her siblings around to steal the attention of the old woman looking on fondly, eyes crinkled through smile lines and crows feet. Gabbi wished she could remember more of the only grandmother figure she ever had. "At least you'll get to see her again. I don't have anyone waiting up there for me. At least, not anyone I know and care about."

"You'll have me."

The hand on Gabbi's shoulder was heavy, full of a sadness. Again, with the sadness. She shook it off and pulled a smile on, unwilling to shatter such a perfect afternoon so soon.

"Have you forgotten your immortality already?"

"Oops. I must have. Silly me."

There was no sadness in the General's laugh this time. Only the fondness he reserved specifically for her. Sometimes, when he thought Gabbi wasn't looking, he looked at her like he was trying to see someone else, someone who was not Miss Lucy. Sometimes, on her sad days, she wondered if he only liked to spend time with her to remind him of who he lost. But when the General smiled like that, at her and not the ghost he was chasing, Gabbi knew it was she who brought him joy. It was a strange pride she carried, the knowledge that she could make someone laugh. Before Aspen, she had only succeeded in making people cry.

The hand on her shoulder tightened by a fraction, a steering gesture. The General angled himself towards the cemetery gate.

"Come on now, I think we've had enough for one day."

"You're right." The wind was picking up an autumnal chill, and Gabbi wrapped her sweater tighter around her frame. She cast a look back at the plot and ignored its siren song. "Far too soon to get cozy."

They walked arm and arm back around the bend towards the servant's entrance. Perhaps, if they were lucky, the cooks will have already started making dinner and there would be fresh rolls to pilfer. It was a terrible habit, but hey, Gabbi was dying. Surely God could forgive a dying girl's request for some fresh bread.

Mouth watering at the thought of bread, Gabbi did not pay attention as she took a turn, and wound up running head-first into a young man.

It was the surprise of the collision more than the collision itself that sent her falling on her butt. No one ever took the servant's entrance anywhere. Ever. Unless you counted Delia on her party nights, but she was being watched like a hawk for the Selection now, and it was barely evening time. The coast should have been clear. It should have been -

Her collider scrambled to his feet, brushing off his jeans and extending in his hand to her. "I am so sorry. Here, let me - "

Gabbi took his hand, too curious not to. His palms were warm and rough but gentle as he steadied her, brushing aside dusty brown hair so he could get a better look at all the damage he did not cause. That didn't stop him from looking nervous, like had had damaged her in some way. Gabbi hated it when people looked at her like that.

"Are you new here? I haven't seen you around before."

"Sorry, that's so rude of me." He shook his head, smiling brightly. "I'm Ezra, one of the Selected. And you are?"

He didn't seem as excited as Gabbi thought a Selected would be. But, then again, he was competing for Delia's hand. She would be less than thrilled as well. But Ezra seemed genuinely happy; maybe that would be good for Delia. Gabbi could only hope.

This was probably the only time she'd ever see any of the Selected. Soon, she would only get to see Ezra on TV screens and read transcriptions of his interviews. Still, it was nice to put a face to a name. When it was Elodie's Selection, Gabbi was too young to care about most of it. She did remember sitting on her mother's lap while she brushed her hair, watching recaps of date nights and elimination nights, seeing her sister laugh and cry, wondering what the whole thing was all about. What made these guys so special? Looking at Ezra, he seemed normal enough...just looking at her with wide brown eyes...waiting for something...

Then, she remembered that she hadn't answered his question. Duh.

"Gabbi."

Ezra gave her a funny look. "Gabbi...like the princess?"

Abort. Abort. Abort.

Gabbi had not thought that one through. She should not have used her real name. Now, this rando Selected could go and blow her cover to Mom and Dad and she would never be allowed outside her room again! Not that she was allowed outside anyway, but they could take away her visitation rights, could try to limit how much time she spent with the General, and that was unacceptable.

"Leger," Aspen chimed in, rescuing Gabbi from sheer embarrassment. "Gabrielle Leger, my granddaughter, though she gets compared to the princess often. Nothing but a bit of sheer coincidence."

Gabbi was impressed at how quickly and easily the General could lie. She knew, of course, that it was part of his job for a very long time. He was paid handsomely to keep state secrets for his entire career. However, seeing it in practice was a whole new level of surrealism. Even she believed she was his granddaughter with the level of confidence he injected into his words.

"General Leger, Sir, it's an honor." Ezra stuck out his hand in attempts to recover any kind of formal introduction. It was also clear that he was sincere in what he said: he really looked like it was an honor to meet Aspen.

Aspen took Ezra's hand and nodded. "You'd best be off, young man, before someone a lot less friendly catches you poking around."

"Sorry, of course." Ezra had the sense to look bashful. The General was right, though. Selected probably weren't allowed to be poking around the servant's entries. "I was actually looking for my room, believe it or not. I got lost coming back from the dining hall."

"I'm sure my granddaughter can show you."

"Ahh - "

"Only if it's no trouble. I don't wnat to interrupt your walk." Ezra was quick to interject, clearly as taken aback as Gabbi was.

Gabbi did not like the mischievous glint in the General's eyes. Not one bit.

"No trouble, right my dear?"

"No trouble," Gabbi parroted, glad that she was half turned away from Ezra so she could shoot the General her best 'what the fuck?' look. She was going to kill him for this, if the guards didn't catch and kill her via solitary confinement in the infirmary first. "Are you sure that you'll be able to get to your room alone?"

"I may be dying but I'm not dead yet." The General loved to use that quip. He waved his cane in their direction, shooing them off. "I'll be fine. You two go ahead."

Gabbi did not like leaving the General alone. He had a bad leg and his arthritis could flare mercilessly at the most inconvenient times. But he was also a stubborn motherfucker, and once he made his mind up about something there was no changing it. If he wanted Gabbi to walk this Ezra person to his room, then so be it. There would be no changing Aspen's will. Gabbi both loved and hated that about him.

They left the General to make his own way up the stairs, foregoing the servant's ways and taking the more acceptable common ways. It was risky for Gabbi to be seen walking this close to an "unknown entity" as her physicians would call it, but it was riskier for public image if a gossipy maid caught her with this boy in an off-limits area. The last mark Gabbi wanted to make on this world was that she was a slut who stole her sister's man before the Selection even started.

Ezra kept looking up, taking in everything as they went by. Gabbi hoped he was remembering the way so that she wouldn't have to be inconvenienced again. Not that she anticipated a run in like this happening again.

"So, do you live here, in the palace?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"Yeah. My, uh, grandfather is good friends with the royal family. He's been sick recently and moved back after his wife died."

"His wife...so, your grandmother?"

Gabbi smiled and nodded, catching herself from saying 'what'. She really needed to get better at this whole charade thing. The General had not pulled out all the spy stops for Gabbi to fuck it up now.

The Selected were staying in the guest wing. Thankfully, Ezra recognized his way to his exact room once they hit the right hall. It wasn't until Gabbi was standing beside him as he fiddled with the doorknob that she realized she had followed him.

"So, does this mean I'll be seeing more of you?" he asked, as innocent as the puppy dog he reminded her of.

Gabbi cocked her head to the side. "Shouldn't you be worried about seeing the princess?"

"I am worried. A lot, actually."

"Don't be. She's not what she looks like." Ezra quirked a brow, challenging Gabbi to prove it. He was smart, though, not to voice his protests aloud. That would not be a good way to start his odds in a Selection. Gabbi felt for him, she really did. "A word of advice, though? Be careful."

Ezra quirked the other brow. He wasn't much for words, then. That was fine. His face spoke volumes enough.

"Princess Delia is not cruel, not on purpose, but she can be. I don't even think she knows she does it. I've seen her rip good people apart in the blink of an eye. And you...you seem like a good person."

"Consider me warned." Ezra, while he said he was worried, did not look it. Gabbi said a silent prayer for his stupid, naive heart. For some reason, it hurt her to think that she might not be the only one in the palace with a damaged heart by the end. "Any other advice you'd like to give?"

Gabbi laughed. "Oh, no. I won't help you cheat."

"Worth a try." Ezra flashed a winning smile, and Gabbi felt her heart do something other than its perpetual ache. "Any other warnings to send me running for the hills?"

"I'll let you figure those out on your own." Gabbi said, unable to stop smiling back. "Don't want to ruin the surprise."

For a minute, they just stood in silence. Ezra made no move to enter his room, still leaning in the door frame. Gabbi made no move to walk away. Until finally, a guard passed them by and tipped his hat to them. Then, Gabbi remembered exactly who she was and why she should not be there.

"I should...get going."

"Yeah, probably." While he agreed with her, his tone did not sound all too enthusiastic. The look on his face was pensive...and a little hopeful. "I'll see you around, Gabbi Leger."

Gabbi said nothing in reply. She didn't want to get the poor guy's hopes up any higher.