CHAPTER 17

When Cade walked down to the tennis courts that morning, it was with a sick feeling in his stomach. He recognized the nauseating sensation- guilt. It was a common enough occurrence in his life, there were so many things he had done to which he felt the sickening sense of guilt for.

When he had reallocated money from the defense budget to several welfare programs and let a middle manager take the blame.

When he smuggled classified documents out of the palace

When he had betrayed his parents and joined the rebels.

When his parents died in that terrible car crash.

And now, he could add the elimination of Penelope Darnley to the list. He felt awful about it. Penelope was honest, she wasn't the most cheerful or the most compliant, but she was a straightforward, sweet girl. She had done nothing wrong. Cade didn't even know why Vivienne wanted him to eliminate her, she had provided no explanation.

And he went along with it. He felt no romantic feelings towards Penelope, but she was highly capable, very intelligent. She would have made a fine Queen. And they weren't incompatible. He had no reason to eliminate her.

Yet he did. He hoped that she would understand, if she knew the full story. That her elimination was part of a bargain, and that truly, Cade had no ill will towards her. He wished he could have told her, but Vivienne's words were explicitly clear. He supposed that Vivienne didn't want to be caught being too friendly with him. She had clearly learned her lesson from their disastrous engagement. Cade wasn't sure he did.

Because he felt like he had to tell Penelope. She didn't understand why he was eliminating her after only one date. He had been planning to make a subsequent outing to get to know her, something along the lines of a movie, something simple, but he couldn't tell her that. He couldn't tell her anything. He could only watch her face fall, and a look of misery slowly replace one of confusion. She had nodded sullenly, ducking her head and muttering a quiet thank you.

Cade had just stood there, watching. He didn't know what to say or how to fix the situation. The only thing he could do was make it clear how much he had valued their time together. It didn't help.

He supposed he should look on the bright side. He needed the selection done quickly; it couldn't stretch on for months like the events of generations past. He turned twenty-one in three months and six days. His coronation would be the day of his birthday, and he had hoped to be married by then. Even a small royal wedding would take at least a month to plan, probably two, which meant he needed this selection done in…oh.

Could he even do that? There were sixteen girls left. He supposed he could make an event out of announcing the elite, but once it was at the top ten there were certain expectations; that his eliminations would become more private, more sporadic. He could announce the winner with the final three instead of the final two to save a few days.

Okay. Thirteen over six weeks worked out to…eliminating two girls a week.

He couldn't do that.

He had to do that.

Cade shook his head, unzipping his racket from its black case. Lana wasn't here yet. That was strange- she almost always arrived before he did.

Cade spent fifteen minutes alternating between attempting to bounce the ball on his racket and scrolling through his email before Lana hurried down the path. Her blond hair was tied into its usually perky ponytail, a visor shielding her face.

"I'm sorry, Your Highness," she apologized quickly. "Security was a hassle today. They must have checked my ID about four times before letting me through."

Cade nodded, "They upped the security measures after you know."

"Oh, are they still worried about that?" Lana asked the question nonchalantly, but Cade could hear the panic underneath her voice.

"Some of the councilmen are," Cade answered quietly. He lowered his voice walking closer to her. "I don't mean to be rude or anything but…what was the plan behind that? They have security cameras. Was it…what were you looking for?"

Lana rolled her eyes. "I know they have security cameras. We all do. Denny thought he disabled them."

"I could have gotten you a map or a floorplan or something."

"You weren't there. You haven't been there for months, Your Highness. With all due respect, we can't just sit around waiting for you to figure out a way out of the palace. The elections are in five months. Cleveland cannot win another term."

Cade looked down. He didn't know how to respond. It had been a stupid, half-baked plan yes, but wasn't it Cade's job to turn these stupid ideas into feasible ones? If he had listened to Lana or attended the meetings, he would have been able to pass along the blue prints, but he hadn't and he didn't. So wasn't this technically his fault?

"My uncle's security team is investigating it," Cade said hurriedly.

"The National Security Agency?" Lana repeated, bending to re-tie her already perfect shoe laces.

"Yeah."

"That's not good," she muttered. "I thought it would just be the councilmen's own security handling it. How did they get a federal agency?"

"They wanted to delay the election," Cade explained. "Until whoever was behind the break-in was caught. Hyde and my uncle thought that having the NSA take the case would make the whole thing quicker."

"It probably will," Lana sighed. "It definitely will."

"I can try to…I don't know, slow it down, but I don't have a good feeling about it," Cade said hesitantly.

Lana pursed her lips. "That wheezer you have in charge of the NSA is ruthless."

"I know."

The pair was quiet a moment, each contemplating their respectively awful situations. Cade needed to do something to save this, but it wasn't as if the NSA would allow him anywhere near the case files. Unless…unless he didn't get them from the NSA.

"I have an idea."

Lana looked up sharply. "You do?"

"I think so…I'm going to try to get the files. I don't know if that'll actually do anything but…"

"At least we'll have a warning," Lana breathed.

"Hopefully."

Without warning, Lana grabbed the nearest tennis ball to her and backhanded it across the net, into the wall on the other side of the court. Then she sighed, nodding. "Thank you. God, this is going to sound terrible, but if I'm going to be arrested for treason I rather it be after I win the tournament and beat Delphi Nahan out for the second-ranked spot."

Cade didn't particularly like that grim sort of determination, but he could admire Lana's confidence in herself.

"I'll leave a paper on my desk. Could you um, you know-"

"I'll tell Steven to have the messenger pick it up."

Cade nodded, whispering, "Do you know who it is?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Lana answered, shrugging. "Well, I guess whatever happens will happen," she said, her mouth pressed into a firm line.

"I'll try to stop it," Cade answered, although even he could hear the note of insincerity in his voice. Of course he didn't believe what he was saying. When had he ever been able to accomplish anything?

"At least my mugshot won't be ugly," Lana contended, although she only managed to grimance instead of smile.

"It'll be…um, it'll be okay," Cade muttered.

"Maybe. Whatever. Show me your serve. Might as well do something useful."

Cade complied, picking up his tennis racket and attempting to serve the ball to the otherside of the court. It landed in the net with a soft thud. What a beautiful omen.

Lana gave him a few half-hearted corrections, although it was clear that neither could even think to worry about tennis right now. There were much worse things ahead, and Cade ––although he supposed he should consider himself lucky that he probably would not end up incarcerated, and if he did, Andrew would probably have him pardoned half an hour after his coronation–– was terrified.

The strange thing was the terror and the guilt didn't feel much different. Both weighed on him, heavy stones in his stomach, creating a sick, empty feeling.

He had to fix it. He was the only one who could.

After fifteen excruciating minutes, the session came to a mutual end. Neither could bear to pretend anymore. Lana bid him goodbye, her usual cheery face marred by a cloudy look, and hurried away, not bothering to fix her ponytail.

Cade grabbed his racket and trekked back to the palace. It wasn't a very far walk, maybe five minutes at most, but each step seemed to drag longer than the last.

He stopped when the first guard came into sight, "Excuse me," Cade said quickly, "Do you um, uh do you know if my uncle is here?"

"One moment," the guard said. She muttered something into her ear piece. "He's out right now, Your Highness."

"Oh. Do you know when he'll be back?"

The guard tapped her ear again, "Around four."

"Okay, th-thank you," Cade said, walking away quickly.

He wasn't going to steal the case files from Uncle Albert's office. Even if he got away with it, which he wouldn't, it just felt wrong. Besides, he would realize they were missing fairly quickly, and that hallway was riddled with more cameras than Cade liked to contemplate.

He would just ask for them. When Uncle Albert got back. Which would be in…five hours.

Cade couldn't sit here, worried for the better half of the day. Knowing his luck, he would end up fainting and be forced to stay in the Medical Wing for a week. He hated that cold metal hallway and the stinging antiseptic smell. So he needed something to distract him.

Someone perhaps.

No. He was not going to go on dates solely for this purpose. He had already exploited Mona. Cade was better than that.

So he was going to go on a date because he wanted to get to know one of the women, to decipher their queenly potential, and determine his own feelings towards her.

He decided quickly; Blythe Cecilia. They would…they would… they would have lunch on the wide patio attached to the ballroom.

Sure.

He knocked on the door of the women's room and asked Blythe to come out, learning from his past mistakes of inviting a woman on a date in front of all the others. He didn't need to invite tensions into the selection. Though he hadn't heard about any particularities, he was sure that there were already plenty.

Blythe wore a demure pink dress patterned with flowers. Her dark hair was woven into a tight bun, secured with crystal pins. Cade was relieved that he had changed into a more proper outfit, khaki shorts and a striped polo shirt.

"Your Highness," she curtsied, not quite meeting his eyes.

"Miss Cecilia," Cade started. "I was wondering if you wanted to join me for lunch or something."

Blythe nodded quickly, her face flushing with relief, "Oh yes! Of course, Your Highness, thank you," she gushed.

"I thought we could eat outside maybe?" Cade asked.

"Yes, that sounds lovely, Your Highness!" Blythe smiled gratefully.

Cade wasn't sure if he should offer his hand or not. There weren't any photographers around, so really there was no need for any awkward skin contact. Instead, he led her to the ballroom, her eyes widening as she took in the golden arches and exquisite murals painted on the ceiling.

"It's beautiful," she breathed, taking in the ridiculously oversized room.

Cade wasn't sure how to answer that. It wasn't as if he built the room himself, it wasn't even like he had paid for it. He had just been lucky enough to be born into a family so disgustingly wealthy that they could afford to underpay a few sevens to build this room a century or two ago.

"It doesn't get used much anymore. Most parties are held in some of the larger sitting rooms now. It was always such a hassle to clean."

"That's such a shame," Blythe said softly. "If I had a room like this, I would want to show it off."

Cade's father used to love showing off. King Garrison always threw a minimum of four balls a year, huge, resplendent functions with mandatory attendance if you were so lucky as to receive an invitation. He told Cade it was how they kept their power, because if the Royal Family turned out to be just a plain old family, who would listen to a word they said?

He didn't like coming in here much, even when his parents were alive. It usually meant a night of his mother shuffling him from one politician to another, of his father ignoring his existence, of stares and whispers. Now, he hated the sick sense of relief that slid into his stomach whenever he entered. Relief that those parties were so rare now.

"Well, maybe we can use it more," Cade answered. "It is very pretty."

Blythe smiled as they made their way towards the verandah. "Sometimes my movie sets are meant to look like palaces, but they don't come close to this one."

"What's your favorite movie you've been in?" Cade asked, pulling out a chair for Blythe before seating himself next to her.

"My favorite?" Blythe hummed. "I think all of them had their charms, but I did love this film where I played a Victorian girl. Summer at the Banks it was called."

Cade nodded quickly. "I…I haven't seen that one," he admitted.

Blythe shrugged delicately. "It doesn't matter. It was not revolutionary by any means."

Well, that shouldn't be the standard in dating. "I'll watch it. I have nothing to do tonight, so I can watch it. I mean, I would watch it even if I had things to do, I just…" Cade trailed off, his profuse apology becoming muddled.

Blythe blushed, seeming to overlook his stupidity with words. "That's really sweet of you, Your Highness, let me know what you think of it."

"You…you can call me Cade if you want to."

"Oh," Blythe's eyes widened. "Is that proper?"

Cade wasn't sure. It had to be, he reasoned, because surely he couldn't be expected to date, share intimate moments, perhaps even fall in love with girls who weren't allowed to call him by his first name. The council had to anticipate that, and not even they, with their heinously overstretched power, could pretend to dictate what he asked others to call them. He was the Crown Prince, surely he must have some freedom of speech.

"Yeah. It is." Cade said with only slightly more confidence than he felt.

"In that case, you should call me Blythe," she smiled.

"Sure, Blythe, if that's what you want," Cade coughed. "I'm sure the movie will be great."

Blythe took a delicate bite of her salad before answering. "The audience seemed to like it. Not as much as they liked Read it and Weep, but I guess that is to be expected."

It took Cade a second to place the show. He vaguely recalled it as the name of a soap opera that had run for nearly eight years. He had never watched it. He wasn't allowed to watch much television as a child. If it was the weekend, and his parents couldn't possibly think of anything better to do, then they would reluctantly allow him to watch some historical documentary.

They were dull, depressing things, with a heavy-toned narrator and elderly professors. The other boys at his lunch table used to always talk about the latest superhero movies, things Cade couldn't relate to. On the one occasion he mentioned the History Channel, he had been met with blank stares.

"I think the audiences like you," Cade responded.

If Blythe had been blushing before, she turned beet-red. "Well-I..I mean. I enjoy performing."

"Your parents are actors right?" Cade asked. Not even he was sheltered enough to have completely missed that fact.

"Yes, they are far more experienced than me." Blythe's face turned sad for a moment. "I hope that I can be like them. You know, my parents must have seven or eight academy awards combined. It's…I'm not complaining."

Cade just nodded. "It's a lot to live up to," he said quietly.

"I've gotten lucky to have both my parents in the industry. It helps with auditions, with getting parts. I'm thankful for it," Blythe explained quickly. Her words became sloppy as she sped up. She was distressed, she felt like she had to make her point.

"Well, sure, but you still earned it though." That was more than Cade could say for himself.

"I've had an easier run of it than most," Blythe contended, playing with her fork.

"There's nothing wrong with that. With having an easier path, I mean. It's okay."

"I suppose not," Blythe murmured. Then she smiled, "the lunch is delicious."

Cade hasn't touched his meal yet, but he quickly swallowed a forkful of the chicken salad. "The kitchens do a good job."

Blythe nodded her agreement, "It's amazing that they can produce this much food on a daily basis."

"Well, it's a pretty big staff. There must be a hundred and fifty or so people who work in the government offices here, so they also make the food for the cafeteria there."

"I didn't know that."

"Whatever we have for breakfast or lunch is usually just a part of the food that goes to the cafeteria. I don't really know what they do for dinner, now that I think about it." Cade supposed that the kitchens just must simply make less food. The security was very strict that all employees must vacate the palace by eight in the evening.

"You'll have to send them my compliments," Blythe smiled, "It's incredible. I wish I could cook like this."

"I'm not great at cooking either," Cade confided, trying to phrase it as a joke rather than a shortcoming. He wasn't sure how well he pulled it off.

"You must be better than me. I've never told anyone this, but I can't really use a toaster oven," Blythe laughed, a surprisingly loud sound for someone who presented herself as gentle as Blythe.

"Not even to make Pop Tarts?" Cade asked.

Blythe's smile froze for a second, and then she bit her lower lip. "Um, what is that? I've never…I've never had amy."

"Oh. They're um, they're almost cookies with filling inside, and you put them in the toaster," Cade explained lamely.

Blythe repeated the words to herself. "Maybe I'll try them one day."

"The kitchens don't really talk about them, but if you ask one of your maids then she should be able to get it for you."

Blythe nodded again, "I'll see. The food here is amazing though. I don't want to miss any of it."

"I thought…I mean, I thought Hollywood and all. That the food in your normal life would be good, you know?" Is that an insult? To insinuate that he doubted her. The chefs at the palace were extremely good, he reasoned. It was a cushy, stable job for Fours. It generally attracted the best of the best.

"The chefs at the sets try, and I value them very much," Blythe prefaced, "But I don't think they have the facilities to make anything that really tastes that good."

"Oh. Is it terrible?"

"No. Not terrible, just…occasionally still frozen." Blythe blushed as she said that last word, her face turning a surprisingly endearing color as she glanced around to make sure she wasn't overheard.

"That doesn't sound very good," Cade mumbled.

"It isn't." Blythe delicately placed her fork and knife back on her napkin, having finished her plate. "Thank you for the meal."

"Oh, um, yeah. Thank you too. For the conversation, I mean." Cade said, placing his fork down too, and standing to escort her back to the women's room or wherever it was that she wanted to return to. "Is it worth it? You know, with the frozen food and the auditions, is it worth it to be an actress?"

"Oh yes," Blythe answered without hesitation. "I love it. I don't know who I would be if I wasn't an actress."

That Cade could relate to, but he had no desire to find out who he would be if he wasn't the next King of Illéa.

He dropped Blythe off at the Women's Room, bidding her an awkward farewell, before slowly making his way to the governmental wing that covered most of the first floor of the palace.

It was deserted on the Sunday afternoon, a few stationary guards and two butlers dusting the windows were the only ones there. Cade found it oddly calming. He knocked on the door to his uncle's office before opening it.

"Oh, hi Cade," Uncle Albert said, looking up from the few papers on his desk.

"Hey," Cade answered, closing the door behind him.

"Andrew mentioned you all went down to the pool yesterday. How was that?"

"It was really fun," Cade answered truthfully. "I think the selected liked it too."

Uncle Albert nodded thoughtfully, "I suppose we could have it opened for them whenever they like, but I worry about the lack of lifeguards."

"I think they can all swim." Mona at least had been splashing around the pool faster than Cade could have imagined, and even quiet Charlotte had stayed afloat. The only girl who hadn't gone in was Ellis, but Cade was pretty sure that Emmerich Scholz with all his worldly connections wouldn't have let his daughter go through life not being able to swim.

"We'll see. What do you think?"

Cade almost shrugged off the question, but then shook his head. The selected were bored, that was a fact. Cade was in charge of the selection, that was also a fact. "They would probably really like it. Especially with how hot out it's been."

"Yeah…I'll look into finding some lifeguards. Anyway, what can I do for you?"

Cade didn't think hedging his way around the question would help him. He was pretty sure that Uncle Albert wouldn't care enough to think that deeply about why Cade would want the papers, and although that probably wasn't the best quality in the man currently presiding over Illéa, it made Cade's job a little easier.

"Do you know if Cleveland and Meyers ever found out what happened with the break-in?" Cade asked carefully.

Uncle Albert drew his eyebrows together, "You know, I'm not sure. I think if they did we would have heard about it."

"That makes sense." Cade rubbed the toe of his shoe into the plush carpet. It made a dark spot that some poor maid would have to clean. "The NSA is looking into it, right?"

Uncle Albert looked a little pained, but still, he nodded. "They are," he said, fidgeting with a few heavy pens on his desk. "They'll probably make the arrests in a week or two."

"That soon?" A whistle of concern sliced through his voice. Cade hoped that Uncle Albert didn't notice.

"Hyde believes that it'll be better if this doesn't interfere with the elections. You know Cleveland, he'll try to delay it. He might just have the votes to do it too." Uncle Albert's face looked only mildly disappointed, not terrified. Not like Cade was. But of course, no one in his family was ever as terrified as Cade was because no one ever had as much to lose.

(Well, except maybe Aunt Morgan, but she covered up the sadness well.)

"That seems a little hasty," Cade breathed.

"I guess."

It was now or never. Uncle Albert was already clearing his desk for the day. In a minute or two he would get up to leave, inviting Cade with him, and then the opportunity would be gone. He couldn't very well bring it up again without seeming incredibly suspicious.

"Do you have the files from the NSA?" Cade said quickly, the words jumbling together.

"The files? You mean about the break-in?" Uncle Albert asked distractedly.

"Yeah, those."

Uncle Albert nodded slowly, reluctantly, his gaze landing on an ornate, locked cabinet on the left side of the room. "I do. Why?"

"Can I read them?"

There was a moment of hesitation on his Uncle's face, but that look was quickly replaced with one of utter nonchalance. The face of a man who didn't care. Which was exactly what Cade needed. "Sure, if you want to."

Uncle Albert passed Cade a key ring. "It's the silver one. The files should be in the third drawer," he said, indicating towards the cabinet.

Cade's hands shook as he unlocked the drawer. It took him two tries to twist the key correctly, and an embarrassingly long amount of time to remove the key from the lock. But either way, the drawer slid open, revealing stacks of neat manila folders in alphabetical order. The one Cade was looking for was halfway in the back, sandwiched between an investigation report about an ex-council member and a sheet of telephone transcripts.

The folder was heavier than he expected, stuffed with documents. "Can I take this?" he asked.

Uncle Albert shrugged. "Sure, it's all replaceable. I can just get a new file, send it to the shredder when you're done."

The cool sense of success gave Cade enough confidence to nod dutifully. "I will. Don't worry. Thank you for this."

"It'll all be yours soon enough. We should probably have the event coordinators start working on your coronation, speaking of which. There's only three months or so, right?"

"Yeah," Cade looked down, "I'm looking forward to it."

"Your coronation in October, Andrew's wedding in December, and then I suppose whenever you decide to have your wedding." Uncle Albert ticked off the events on his fingers. Somehow the checklist made Cade feel relieved. He liked when things were laid out neat and orderly. When they were simple and straightforward, not the tangling mess of lies he usually found himself snagged in.

"It'll be a busy few months," Cade agreed, trying not to appear too excited at the thought.

"How is it going with all…that?" Uncle Albert asked delicately.

"The selection?"

"Mmhm."

"It's alright," Cade contended. "I don't know..it's…it's sort of stressful but it's nice to meet so many new people. It's weird to think that all of this is going to be connected to a marriage soon. I still feel like I'm just getting to know most of them."

"Well, you'll know them better eventually."

Cade bit back the whine of wanting to get to know them now. Of wanting the awkward phases to be over. He felt he had moved past it with some, with Finley, and Ellis, and Nora Louise, and maybe even Blythe, but if it weren't for the selection, he wouldn't ever consider getting engaged to one of them in a few weeks.

"If it makes you feel any better, I didn't know Morgan's middle name until our wedding day," Uncle Albert added.

"Really?" It was a little sad, but it made sense. It wasn't shocking by any means. That was the world of royalty. Marriages happened quickly, driven for a purpose. Andrew's year-long engagement was an exception, not the rule.

"The first time I saw it was on those commemorative plates." He paused, biting his lip. "Don't tell her I said that."

"I won't." Cade shifted the file from one arm to another. "Thank you for these."

"No problem."

With his prize in hand, Cade made his way out of the office. It was a good thing that none of the politicians were present because the smile on his face alone would have surely landed him in an interrogation room.

A/N: Yes, I know this has been an embarrassingly long amount of time. Lol I'm sorry. I'm hoping for a few more updates this summer. Also, I think this story is almost a year old? Like what? This is the birthday update for now but if I write another chapter to go up on the birthday then I lied and this is a pre-birthday gift. Anywho, thank you for reading !