CHAPTER 5

Continuing with his never ending stream of introductions, Cade had barely fixed his tie around his neck before the next of his selected appeared. This woman was clearly very young, Cade would put her at around eighteen or so, with dark brown curled over her shoulder.

"I'm Catalina Brereton, Your Highness." The girl said, bobbing a surprisingly well-done curtsy.

"Brere…I'm sorry, how do I pronounce that?" Cade asked, hoping that Catalina wouldn't be offended. It would be far worse for him to mess up the pronunciation though. He couldn't risk that.

"Breh-reh-ton." Catalina repeated, enunciating every syllable. "I know it's weird, but I can promise you, I didn't choose my last name."

"I don't think any of us did." Cade answered, smiling a bit. It was true in a literal sense, unless someone filed an exhaustive amount of legal documents, one did not choose their own name. Cade didn't want to consider the deeper meaning of choosing his own last name. That wasn't what Catalina meant, and even if it was, he couldn't afford himself that opportunity to ponder what his life would have been if he wasn't a Schreave. He didn't want to think about that.

"No." Catalina shook her head quickly, "I think if I could, I would have chosen Smith."

Cade raised his eyebrows, "Why Smith?"

Catalina ducked her head, flushing, "Well, so people don't get confused about it so much. "

Oh.

"I apologize," Cade said quickly. "I didn't mean to upset you. I know it can get aggravating to be asked the same question so much."

"No. It's fine, Your Highness. Really, I appreciate you asking. Most people don't. They just pronounce it wrong. That's what I meant." Catalina answered. That made slightly more sense.

Cade decided to move on. "So, Miss Brereton, can I ask you a few questions about yourself?"

"Yes, of course. In case you're wondering, I love cows." Catalina said, practically beaming.

"I think my favorite animals are probably elephants," Cade answered, momentarily startled by her boldness. In a way, it was a nice change from the unrelenting, but understandable, nerves of the previous women. "But that's not exactly what I was going to ask you."

Catalina straightened in her seat, obviously preparing herself for his questions. He hoped that they weren't coming off as too…assertive. Too professional. Of course, his goal was encapsulated in a somewhat professional capacity, but that was only temporary. He didn't want to set the precedent that the whole selection would be this type of questioning.

"What do you consider your greatest fears?" Cade asked, deciding that he would worry about the selected's perceptions of him later.

Catalina thought for a few minutes, looking much more somber than the peppy girl who had entered the room a few minutes earlier. "I think not being seen as my own person. If that makes sense? I just want people to think of me, not someone else when they see me."

Cade nodded, appreciating the answer. "To be your own person," he mused. "I like that. It's a good goal."

"I guess it's a goal and a fear," Catalina answered.

"On the same note," Cade continued, "What do you think is most important in the world?"

"I should say something like world peace. I just…I'm not sure that would be me being truthful." Catalina told him. "I think optimism is important."

"Optimism?" Cade asked, prompting Catalina to elaborate on it.

"Yeah. I think that if everyone were just so negative, no one would succeed. Go after their dreams. I'm a glass half full type of person." Catalina explained, her head tilted to the side as she thought.

Cade was not an optimist. On a good day, he could describe himself as realistic, but he knew that even that was pushing it. He would like to claim that it was just the daily stressors of royal life, of having to hear about so many awful things day after day, week after week. He just wasn't sure that was true. No one else in his family was ever as negative as him. But then again, no one else in his family had to deal with what he did. They all had it easy compared to him.

He should try to be more optimistic.

Cade just knew he wouldn't be able to pull it off. Not for any extended period of time anyway, at least not without it seeming manufactured, insincere.

Still, there was no denying that was an admirable quality to have in a person. A sort of brightness that never was truly extinguished.

"I think you're right. I think the world would be better if people were more optimistic," Cade agreed.

Catalina scrunched her nose, looking down. "I don't know if the world would be better. It wouldn't be like some band-aid solution. I just think everyone would be happier."

Ah. So she was practical as well. "I can see that," Cade agreed. "Before we go, is there anything else you would like to discuss."

Catalina thought for a few moments. "Not really…I don't know. I'm just blanking right now. I'm sorry, I'm just a little nervous."

"That's okay. I know it's probably stressful, but, if it helps, I'm not going to eliminate anyone based on this meeting."

Her dark brown eyes widened a fraction, and then she let out a relieved gasp. "Oh good. Everyone was talking, and the rumor mill, well, they made it seem like so many people were going to go home."

Cade was almost about to ask who had been saying this, and on what authority, but he resisted. He didn't need to know about the gossip that he was sure every girl was engaging in, at least to some extent. Especially not from another one of the selected, who despite Catalina's kindness, most definitely had some vested interest in ensuring others were sent home.

"That's very…well, it's something. You can tell them they're wrong, if you'd like."

Catalina nodded. "I think I will. It was making a lot of people really worried."

"Good. Well then, Miss Brereton, it was very nice to meet you. There should be someone waiting outside the door to accompany you back to the Women's room, if you wish." Cade said bidding her goodbye.

The next woman was familiar to Cade as well. Not like Blythe or Finley, who he recognized immediately from their undoubted stardom, in fact, he didn't recognize her face at all.

When she curtsied, introducing herself demurely as "Pamela Ramseyer, Your Highness," that's when he recognized her.

The Ramseyers were a very political family in Illéa. Not famous in any way, despite maybe a vague recollection of Governor Ramseyer of Fennley and his alleged death at the hands of rebels twenty or so years ago. They were not going to be on the cover of a glossy magazine or brought in for a morning talk show. In fact, Cade would be willing to assume that most of the selected, most of the country, would not have recognized the last name at all.

Cade knew who they were though. He didn't know if he should be relieved or on edge about Pamela. On one hand, her family was very loyal to the monarchy, and had made that clear on many occasions. On the other hand, they were a perfect stereotype of the people who despised Cade for almost destroying the monarchy. There was a rather frightening chance that Pamela believed him to be wholly incapable.

Well, at any rate, he didn't have time to worry about that right now. She was in his selection, whether his fears were unfounded or not would have to be seen. "It's nice to meet you, Miss Ramseyer," Cade said, watching her face carefully.

She barely met his eyes. Instead, she settled herself delicately on the couch, her posture making Cade sit up a bit straighter himself.

Cade coughed. "May I ask you a few questions?"

Pamela nodded. "Of course, Your Highness."

"What do you do for a living?"

"I don't work. I still live with my father," Pamela explained briefly.

"Well, what are you planning to do in the future?" Cade said, rephrasing his question.

"I'm not sure, Your Highness. I'll have to see where my life takes me." Pamela answered vaguely. That was odd. She must not have any sort of plan for the future, which while almost comical, was a bit unsettling for Cade.

He knew that every girl here would have to disregard their future plans if they married him. That was a lot to ask of a person. It might have been a good thing that Pamela had no plans to disrupt.

"So, you would say you're more of a spontaneous person?"

"No. I wouldn't say that. I just don't know what I want to do yet. I haven't had much time to think about it." Pamela explained.

Cade moved on quickly. "Miss Ramseyer, what would you consider your best trait?"

"I would say I'm a peacemaker, your Highness." Pamela answered earnestly. "I don't like conflict much, and I think I'm supportive enough to help most people deal with situations calmly."

Cade didn't quite know what to make of that statement either. "How about yourself? Do you also create peace for yourself?"

"I…In a way. I just attempt not to engage in the first place, so there truly is no peace to be made." Pamela said quietly, agreeing with him. At least, not outwardly contradicting him, which was interesting considering that she seemed to inwardly disagree with him.

Cade frowned. He felt bad dismissing her, but he had asked his questions. Yet, despite her answers he felt as if he had learned absolutely nothing about her. He would always have more time to get to know her, but it just felt awkward to end the conversation here. With him nodding along to her vague, unclear answer.

But he had asked his questions.

He was trying to be fair, and the fair thing to do would be to end the conversation and attempt to learn more about her another time.

"Miss Ramseyer, thank you for coming in today." Cade said, standing to walk her to the door. "It was a pleasure to meet you, and there should be a maid outside to walk you back to the Women's room or to your room."

"Of course, Your Highness. Thank you for meeting with me as well." Pamela said, curtsying one final time before leaving.

Huh.

The next woman to enter the room had dark straight hair. It was held back by a plain cotton headband that matched her practical dress. She gave a woeful curtsy, wobbling a bit on her way up. "I'm Jasmine Andilet," she informed him, "from Belcourt."

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Andilet." Cade answered, shaking her hand. Her handshake was firm, unwavering. "How are you today?"

"I'm doing very well, Your Highness," Jasmine answered, grinning. "It's beautiful outside. Inside too, but that's to be expected."

"What do you mean?" Cade asked. He wasn't sure what she meant, and although he probably should have ignored it, it seemed to him that the start of a romantic relationship should not be based on him attempting to appear cool in an introduction.

Jasmine's smile faltered for a second, "I just meant that the palace is as beautiful as I thought it would be. You know, we only really see the ballroom on television. Sometimes photographs of the gardens. It's nice to see the rest of it."

"Oh. Yes, well, it is very nice." Cade agreed. "So, Miss Andilet, what do you do for a living?"

"I'm a chef. A head chef." She enunciated the word head, her voice lingering on her exalted position just long enough for Cade to see the obvious pride she took in it. Cooking must have been a passion of hers, although Cade didn't know how much that would come in handy at the palace.

"That's a great position for someone so young." Cade complimented. "You must have worked hard to get there."

Jasmine nodded. "I started as a waitress, you have no idea how hard it was to become a chef as a six."

Now that was interesting.

Traditionally speaking, chefs were supposed to be fours, waitresses were supposed to be sixes. Cade knew that the rules weren't always strictly followed, especially in the restaurant industry, where it meant employing different sets of people to wash the dishes than to prepare them. Usually though, there was some attempt to cover it up, to have an excusable position lest government authorities came knocking. This type of indiscretion was not taken lightly by the provincial governments when a new case was always inevitably discovered.

For Jasmine to be a head chef meant she must have been truly talented. She must have been bringing in enough business for the manager to decide that it was worth the ever present risk of breaking the caste system's boundaries.

Personally, Cade thought the whole thing was absurd. There were far worse crimes to prosecute people for than cooking. He was actually sort of happy that Jasmine was challenging the system that way.

"I'm sure." Cade answered, keeping his musings about possible illegality to himself. "It must have been a hard road. It's good that you were able to do it."

Jasmine nodded her agreement.

"Would you say that's your greatest strength? Hard work?" Cade asked, slightly impressed by how smooth his transition was. He usually wasn't able to pull that type of stuff off with any level of ease.

Jasmine shrugged, "Sure. That's one of them, but I would say it's cooking. Those go together though, I guess."

That made sense. All the hard work in the world wouldn't get Jasmine a job as a chef if she couldn't actually prepare a spectacular dish.

"That's true, you probably can't be a chef if you can't cook," Cade agreed. "Miss Andilet, what's your favorite dish to make?"

"Definitely chocolate cake. It's my favorite food to eat as well."

Cade was momentarily taken aback. He assumed that it would be something more extravagant or complex. Even Cade, with his limited cooking abilities and paltry talent could make one. Granted, it was a boxed cake mix that only required an additional egg and he was sure that Jasmine's was far better, but the recipe was fairly standard.

"May I ask why?"

Jasmine shrugged a little, flushing. "It was the first thing I learned to make. I like how straightforward it is."

Ah. Cade could certainly appreciate the beauty in simplicity, not that he often got to enjoy it.

He nodded, "I've only ever made the pre-packaged versions, but I can attest that they were definitely simple."

"You know those are all chemicals right?"

He had assumed as much. Those boxes had shelf lives of about ten years. "I do, but they don't taste bad."

"We can agree to disagree on that, Your Highness."

"Well, Miss Andilet, thank you for coming in today. It was very nice to meet you. There should be someone waiting outside to escort you back if you'd like." Cade glanced at the still rather full cookie plate, "Also, why don't you take a few of the cookies, they're supposed to be very good."

"Oh, uh sure. Thank you, Your Highness." Jasmine said, leaving holding two cookies in her left hand, her right hand free to open the door. "I guess I'll see you later then."

Then came a brunette with her hair straightened so much that the ends almost appeared to be pointy. She was the first girl to enter who wasn't wearing heels, making her already short frame (Cade would put her around five foot three) seem much smaller in comparison to the girls who already came before. Her heels matched her dress, both a matte black with small rhinestones along the edges. It was actually a very striking look with the matching eyeliner.

"Your Highness," she said, curtsying. "My name is Charlotte Reyes, I'm from Calgary."

"Nice to meet you, Miss Reyes," Cade answered, "I hope the trip from Calgary wasn't too bad?"

"Oh no. Not at all." Charlotte said. "We were in the nicest jet in the world, how could it be bad?"

"Well, I don't know if it's the nicest in the world, but thank you anyway." Cade answered. The Italian royal family happened to have beautiful aircrafts, much nicer than their Illéan counterparts. Cade had gone on one when he was thirteen years old, when he had accompanied his father there for a meeting with several other world leaders.

"They were the nicest I've ever been on."

"That's very kind of you," Cade said. "Miss Reyes, what do you do for a living?"

"I'm a real estate agent. My parents own the office, so I work for them."

"It's a family business then?"

"Yes. It is."

"Would you say that your job gave you any special skills?" Cade asked.

Charlotte thought for a moment, "Well, I don't know…I suppose it made me very good at mathematics. Financial mathematics I mean, not the sine and cosine graphs and such."

That was actually a very good skill to have. Cade had no talent for mathematics, trigonometric or otherwise, and it always made budget meetings a hellish experience. Especially considering that everyone in the room knew, from Uncle Albert, to the council members, to Cade himself, that Andrew would have been able to compute the numbers with his eyes shut. In fact, Cade knew that his uncle usually did give Andrew the papers after the meetings for him to look over.

He always had a talent for math that Cade didn't share. Even when they were in high school, Andrew was continuously recruited for the math team. He turned them down every time, saying that he didn't want to waste his lunch on it. The math team was far below his social status. No one ever asked Cade. He probably wouldn't have passed the test to join the program anyway.

"Really?" Cade asked. "Do you like math?"

"Of course, but I suppose it's easy for me to like something that I'm good at," Charlotte said thoughtfully.

"What about any weaknesses?" Cade continued, "What would you say are your weaknesses?"

"I've been told I can be a bit of a tyrant in group projects," she pressed her lips together, "I suppose I can see where they're coming from."

"What do you mean?" Cade asked, again surprised that he was given an honest answer to the ever-elusive weakness question.

"People think I can be a bit bossy." Charlotte explained, looking at the ground.

Cade's first instinct was to ask if it was true.

His second instinct was to shove the first as far down inside him as possible, and forgo his own curiosity and possible amusement for the sake of politeness and common courtesy.

"I'm sure that's not true," Cade said almost robotically. "You seem very nice."

"We met maybe three minutes ago." Charlotte pointed out, cocking her head to the side. "How would you know, Your Highness?" She at the very least seemed to find some humor in the question, even if royal decorum prevented Cade from doing the same.

"Just a gut feeling."

"Thank you, I appreciate the sentiment," Charlotte repeated. "Are there any other questions?"

Cade was momentarily startled. No other girl had asked for another question, had even inquired to that front. Most seemed somewhat scared of them. Charlotte on the other hand, seemed practical. As if she just wanted to get through the questions that she knew she was bound to be asked.

"Of..Of course. I apologize, um, Miss Reyes, what would you say is your best strength?"

"My best strength?" Charlotte parroted, looking confused.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Cade fought the flush in his cheeks, "I meant what do you think is your best quality?"

"I suppose I'm very…straightforward. I don't like to waste time on illogical things."

"Yes. I understand that," Cade said quickly. He took a deep breath, getting the redness of his cheeks and his quickened breathing back under control. "That's a very good trait to have. There are plenty of things that are just ridiculous in the world."

"I know." Charlotte answered. "I could probably name half of them."

"Oh?"

"It'll bore you, I'm sure. Are there any other questions?"

Cade shook his head. 'No. I don't have any others to ask you. It was very nice meeting you, Miss Reyes, there should be a maid waiting outside to escort you back to your chambers or to the Women's room. Thank you for coming in today."

"Thank you, Your Highness."

The next girl was extremely tall, taller than Cade himself. Her dark hair was in a braid down to her waist, gold dye streaked through it making it appear lighter than Cade suspected it actually was.

"Your Highness, I'm Avary Rodrigo, from Midston," she said.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Rodrigo," Cade said as he firmly shook her hand. It was a bit rougher than most of the other girls, but going off what he knew of her, she was a basketball player. He supposed it made sense.

"Thanks."

"You play basketball, right, Miss Rodrigo?" Cade asked, although he already knew the answer.

"I do. For the University of Zuni." Avary said, her voice holding an air of superiority. Pride at her accomplishments.

"Are you planning on continuing after college?"

"Of course. That's why I'm playing in college to go professional." Avary cleared her throat, "Uh, do you play basketball, Your Highness?"

Cade shook his head quickly. "No. I don't. I'm not very good at it."

"Do you follow it?"

Now this was a bit of an awkward truth. If Cade was Avary, he would have assumed that the Prince who had just inquired about her basketball career was interested in the sport itself. Unfortunately, Cade was not. He didn't pay attention to most sports. The only reason why he knew Avary played basketball was because Andrew had mentioned it a few weeks ago.

"Somewhat," Cade lied, biting the inside of his cheek. "Casually. I don't watch many games."

"Oh. Okay." Avary said, giving him an odd glance.

"Miss Rodrigo, what would you say is your life goal?"

"My life goal?" Avary echoed, "Wow, that's deep. Um, I don't know. I guess basketball. I would like to go professional."

"What about in terms of yourself?" Cade asked, pressing on. "What goals do you have for yourself?"

"I guess I would like to be more…more…Independent? Does that make sense? Sometimes it seems like life is a group effort, and I think I would like it to be more…singular?"

Cade nodded. He understood what she meant, in a way. That Avary wanted to go at things alone rather than have relentless team spirit shoved down her throat. He wasn't sure if it was an answer he liked, but it was certainly an answer he respected.

"Yes, I think that being independent is a very good trait to have," Cade said. "It's hard to rely on other people to get places in life."

"Exactly. I always say the only person you can trust is yourself, but my brother always says I'm being too cynical," Avary agreed happily.

"Miss Rodrigo, do you believe that you are more of an optimist or a pessimist?"

Avary didn't need time to think, "I guess if I'm being honest, a pessimist. Not because I'm overly gloomy, I just think that you need to rely on yourself, and things just won't miraculously work out in the end." As she spoke, Avary crossed and uncrossed her arms in front of her chest, a gold bracelet on her left wrist clicking softly.

"I think that's more realistic than pessimistic."

"Well, Your Highness, that wasn't an option."

"Oh. You're right," Cade said quickly, "I apologize it must have slipped my mind."

"It's okay." Avary said softly.

"Miss Rodrigo, thank you for coming today. It was very nice to meet you," Cade said. "If you go outside, there should be a maid waiting to take you back to the Women's Room or to your own room. I hope you've had a nice time today, and I'm sorry for the wait."

Avary looked somewhat amused. "It's fine. I didn't mind."

Cade just nodded and Avary must have correctly interpreted that as her cue to leave, because she did, letting the door shut behind her.

The next girl was tall with curly dark brown hair. Her face, with its high cheekbones and sharp jaw seemed to shimmer, although Cade was reasonable to attribute that to fanciful makeup instead of a supernatural reason. Her curtsy, although not perfect in technique, was graceful.

It seemed like a sharp contrast to her outfit. Whereas every lady before her had worn a dress, this one wore an olive blazer with a button down shirt and a dark skirt. It was a far cry from the wispy patterns and pastel colors of the previous selected.

"I'm Desdemona Phobos, Your Highness. You can call me Mona though, I don't usually use my full name."

"It's nice to meet you Mona." Cade said, quickly deciding against using her last name. That would be rude, and if there was one thing that Cade was not, it was rude. "Where are you from?"

Mona laughed, "That's a long answer. I was born in Italy, and I worked in England for a little while, but now I live in Zuni."

That piqued Cade's interest. "Zuni? May I ask why?"

"I work as an archeologist, and I was given a project based there. I've only lived in Illéa for about a year."

"An archaeologist?" Cade repeated, "That's amazing. It is a fun job?"

"It's very interesting. I enjoy translating languages, so it's nice to use my knowledge in a practical setting rather than typing away at a keyboard."

"And you translate writing on the objects you find?" Cade asked, feeling almost a bit starstruck. It didn't happen to him easily, meeting famous people was part of his day-to-day life, it was nothing special. Still, Cade, like every other boy in Illéa, had his dinosaur phase where he watched the movies and bought the little knick knacks to place around his room. He had long since grown out of it, the disks packed in neat boxes in storage and the figurines thrown out, but there was still something exciting about meeting a woman who was living out eight-year-old Cade's obsession.

"Yes, that's part of it. Most of it is categorizing things, trying to date artifacts. Translating languages is a very small part when you consider how few civilizations actually had a written language."

"I know, I remember-" Cade cleared his throat. "That sounds like a very nice job, excuse me. So, you said you've only been in Illéa for a year?"

Mona nodded. "That's correct, yes."

"How have you liked it so far?" Cade asked, genuinely curious about her perspective on the country. Many had said the culture shock in Illéa was almost impassable when it came to immigrating.

"It's a very nice country. Very efficient. I can't speak much to the history, but most people have been very kind to me while I've been working here."

If she was here to work, most likely on some sort of temporary visa, then Mona was probably a four. That was the default caste they were given for their time, although with an asterisk next to it on all official documents, citing that they weren't truly a four, weren't truly bound to those career paths. Cade didn't know how that would affect her experience. She certainly wasn't far enough down the ladder to have to deal with the inherent classism on a daily basis.

"That's good. I know it can take some getting used to. Mona, what would you say is your biggest weakness?"

"I think…I think I try too hard sometimes. I want to make everyone happy, which sometimes is not possible."

Cade nodded, the words hitting a bit close to home. He had been told he was people-pleaser many times, most often accompanied by some form of yelling. He didn't want to relive those moments. "Yes, I understand that. Anything else?"

"Not that I can think of Your Highness. I'll make sure to let you know if any others occur to me."

Cade went along with the joke, not exactly sure why he was straying from his pre-made questions as he did. Maybe it was just that Mona wasn't from Illéa so she would be much less likely to judge him. Or, maybe it was simply the fact that he had been professional for thirty-three interviews straight and was tired of giving his bland answers. "That would be much obliged. I take handwritten letters on parchment paper."

"Like the ones used for cooking?" Mona asked.

"Mmhm. The ones you put sugar cubes on. Anyway, moving on, so for my last question, Miss Phobos, what do you think is the most important issue in the world?"

"There are a lot of important ones, and I do think I'm biased as I answer this, but I think it's very important to preserve history." Mona answered. "Though, of course world peace is a close second."

"I agree with you. About the history, I mean, not world peace. Although that's very important too." Cade took a deep breath to get back on track, "I think history is important, it's very rare that we want to repeat the past."

"No. I wouldn't want man-eating dinosaurs roaming around again."

"I might want one of those, but, yes, they wouldn't be very safe," Cade agreed. "Well, thank you for coming in, Miss Phobos. It was very nice to meet you. There should be a maid outside to escort you to the Women's room or back to your own room, if you prefer."

"Thank you, Your Highness. It was nice to meet you as well," Mona said, curtsying once again before leaving.

Cade waited for the next girl to walk through the doors, but this time, instead, a young maid with short dark hair walked in.

"That's everyone, Your Highness,"

Cade looked at the maid. "That can't be. I only counted thirty-four." He had been keeping his mental list in his head, and he was positive that there had only been thirty-four girls so far. Thirteen in the yes column, four in the maybe, and a concerning nineteen crowding the no column. He had been hoping that the final girl would be a yes, if only because thirteen was bad luck. Cade was not superstitious in any sense of the word, but he did believe, given his precarious circumstances, that it was best not to tempt fate.

The poor maid looked flustered, tucking her curly dark hair behind her ear. "I don't… I'm not-"

"It's alright," Cade told her. "I'm sure it's nothing, thank you for telling me," he said politely.

"Of course," she curtsied and left hurriedly.

With that, Cade decided to go find his aunt. She was the closest thing to a selected organizer that they had, considering no one had actually found one to hire. He asked four different guards, and a butler before being directed to one of the sitting rooms on the first floor, where Morgan and a woman who Cade was fairly sure was the wife of the Angeles Fire Chief sat in conversation.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Cade started.

"Oh no, no," Aunt Morgan exclaimed. "It's no problem at all. Excuse me. Come, Cade." She said, taking his arm in a viselike grip and walking him out of the room.

Once they were a safe distance from the sitting room, Aunt Morgan sighed. "Thank God. That woman was being insufferable. If I have to hear one more embellished tale about devastatingly handsome dear Arthur," she scoffed, "I would have gouged my eyes out."

Cade chuckled nervously, "Oh..okay then. I just had a question about the selection, I'm sure it's nothing, but I was wondering-"

"Oh yes, tell me all about your little introductions Cade. I want to hear all the insipid details."

"They were okay. We're there…I'm supposed to have thirty-five selected, right?"

"Did we lose a province? I always said we should trade Honduragua to France in exchange for a nice beach. Maybe Albert finally listened to me on something."

"I don't think so. I just thought I was one short during introductions. Do you know anything about that or did I just count wrong? I didn't think I did but…" Cade's voice trailed off as he shrugged.

Aunt Morgan snapped her fingers. "Oh, yes. Did I not tell you about that? I could have sworn I did."

Cade shook his head, "I wasn't told anything."

"The girl from Tammins is in the German Federation for something. Her father is the diplomat and she's his intern or something along those lines. Anyway, I spoke to the President and he told me she had to be there for a conference so she's coming a little late. He was actually quite rude about it. Maybe it's just the beard though," Morgan added thoughtfully.

Oh. Cade had not been expecting that. He had assumed that someone had become homesick and decided to leave, or perhaps actually sick. He supposed that was a good sign, that she knew much about politics already. He should put her on the potential queens list on that fact alone. Perhaps this was his reversal of the unlucky thirteen, although considering that the final girl was an ocean away, he wasn't sure how much additional luck that provided.

"Is that allowed?" Cade blurted out.

"Well, I think so. There's no rule book per say."

"I just…it's a little weird, don't you think?" Cade asked. "I guess it's good that she's involved with politics but how late is she going to be?"

"A few weeks, maybe. Maybe shorter. I can ask," Morgan offered.

Cade nodded, "Okay. So, I guess that's the thirty-fifth selected. Does this count as her introduction?" he asked, grinning.

"Surely it must, since she's in another continent, I would say so."

So, with that weird exception, Cade's selection officially began.

A/N: So with that, we have the end of the introductions! Well, almost that is. I'm sorry about the wait lol, I was super busy, but I did pre-write a few chapters, so hopefully I can get another one up this week. Anyway, I think all the selected were very interesting, and I was so excited to write them all for the first time, now we get to go into the juicy part of the selection though lolz.