Woo I'm back! I have been decidedly uninspired for the last few weeks. This one has been sitting in my drafts for a while because I thought it sucked, but when I read through it today, I decided I liked it enough to fix it up and post it.

Now I must take a moment to plug my own work. If you've been reading these one-shots and at any point thought "hmm, I wish this was sillier" PLEASE go read my "10 better endings for the crown" fic (it's not on ao3; it's just on ) because it's literally Keadlyn + wacky scenarios + breaking the fourth wall, aka me in my truest form.

ALSO feel free to drop suggestions or writing prompts, silly or otherwise. I'm having fun with this, but I'm only so creative.

Cons of never leaving the palace: I have the world's worst immune system. The second I'm exposed to any singular germ, I'm all but bedridden. True to form, I came down with something as soon as my Selected arrived, even though none of the boys actually seemed sick. The day I was supposed to meet them for the first time, after they'd all gotten their makeovers, I was running a temperature and fighting a throbbing headache. I wanted more than anything to stay in bed, but I couldn't just skip this. If I wanted the boys to fear me (and that was the plan) I needed to show up and be on my game.

I took as many Tylenol as was medically safe and stationed myself outside the door to the dining hall as instructed. Even with the medicine, my head was pounding and my legs struggled to bear my weight- I so needed to be back in bed- so I leaned against a pillar as subtly as I could. I was the future queen. I needed to keep up appearances, no matter how miserable I was.

The suitors came in one at a time, introduced themselves and chatted with me briefly, and went on to breakfast. I greeted thirty-four of them and retained very little information about them due to the vicious alternation between shakes and sweating. Some of them were weird. Some were unattractive, and some were both. I sent all of them inside; I would decide who to eliminate later, when I wasn't about to crumple with exhaustion.

Then came number thirty-five, the only familiar face in the Selection. I wasn't super excited about Kile Woodwork being part of the "competition for my heart", but at least I didn't have to worry about impressing him with this meet and greet. He knew who I was. He just didn't like it.

As expected, Kile wore a firm scowl and had his hands shoved in his pockets. They could fix up his appearance, but the attitude was his own. His expression changed when he saw me slumped against the pillar. "Are you alright, Eady? You don't look so good."

Apparently I was not doing such a good job of keeping up appearances. I stood up a little straighter and denied everything. "Oh, I'm fine. Some of those boys are just exhausting, you know?"

Kile refused to believe I was well. Could I simply not win? His frown deepened, and he looked me up and down. "You're shaking. Since when does the crown princess shake?"

He reached out as if to feel my forehead. I ducked away. "Oh, I've just been standing too long in these shoes."

My body refused to cooperate with the lie my mouth had made up. As I tried to step away, my knees buckled, and Kile had to catch me. "Sorry, just a little dizzy…"

"You are unbelievable," he informed me, helping me stand up straight. Under different circumstances, I might have been annoyed that he was touching me. "And sick! What are you doing out of bed? You're burning up!"

"I just need to get through breakfast," I insisted, although now that my façade was crumbling, breakfast sounded kind of impossible. "Then I can go to bed."

Kile let out an irritated huff. "You are so stubborn. Do you really think anyone is going to believe you're fine?"

"Everyone else did."

"Alright, up to bed."

No more nonsense, apparently. Kile scooped me up bridal-style- something I normally would have had a huge problem with, but my head was currently spinning- and headed towards the stairs. I accepted it. I was sick. I couldn't believe I'd gotten through thirty-four little chats before succumbing to the need to sleep.

Three flights of stairs, and Kile didn't say a word in complaint, although he was huffing pretty good by the time he set me down on my bed. He even tucked me under the covers, which I appreciated, because I was in that brief stage of chills before I went back to violently overheating. Neena wasn't there, so he got me a glass of water himself.

I propped myself up on one elbow to drink it. I was already starting to feel better from just a few minutes off my feet. Kile sat down at the foot of the bed anyway, watching me carefully like he was worried I might pass out.

I set my glass on the nightstand and met his eyes, confused. This situation was bizarre. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

Kile and I weren't friends. We hadn't gotten along since we were kids playing hide and seek, and he was only in my Selection by mistake. It would have been much easier for him to tell one of the guards I was feeling poorly, or even just mind his own business and go on to breakfast. Instead, he'd helped me himself, up three flights of stairs. That was far more than anyone would have asked of him.

Kile smiled faintly. "Maybe it's just nice to see some proof that you're human."

"What else would I be?"

"A robot that's very, very good at being the princess."

"Makes sense." It didn't, but I blamed it on the feverish delirium. I was so cold and tired that I probably wasn't making any sense either. The pills I'd taken had done nothing for my misery.

"Get some rest, Eady," Kile said gently, standing up from the bed. Confusingly, my first thought was stay, but I could blame that on the fever too. "I'll have someone send some breakfast up."

"No, don't go. Stay." Who was this speaking in my voice? I was Eadlyn Schreave; no one was as powerful as me. Those words could not be coming out of my mouth.

Kile shook his head. "I really gotta go. Nobody knows why we didn't show up to breakfast, so they probably assume we're brawling right now. I'll see you when you're feeling better."

"Oh. Okay." I was almost asleep anyway, so it hardly mattered.

"Sleep well, Eady."

Right before he shut the door, I murmured that I would try. I fell into a hazy sleep plagued with dreams, and my waking hours were blurry enough I could hardly tell which was which. Mom and Dad talking in hushed voices. Kaden reading to me. Kile kissing my forehead. That last one had to be a dream, but oddly, I found myself hoping it wasn't.

When my fever finally broke, Neena informed me I had spent the better part of two straight days tossing and turning. "Your brothers have been sick, too," she informed me. "Even some of the Selected boys."

I groaned. Just because the fever had passed didn't mean I felt all the way better. In fact, I still felt mostly like human garbage, just with a clearer head. "That sounds like a PR nightmare."

"It's not a great start to the Selection, but they've been good sports about it. They all made you cards."

The cards were, for the most part, silly. Hale's included a whole bit on "how to cure the common cold with fashion", including some sketches for a more dignified hospital gown. Ean's just said "Get well soon. Ean." which is about what I had expected. Henri had lovely neat handwriting, but trying to read his terrible spelling made my head spin, so I just set that card aside.

I opened Kile's card last.

Royal Pain in the Ass,

I know what you're thinking: it was an honor and a privilege for me to carry you up to bed. Unfortunately, that honor and privilege has resulted in me being confined to bed with the worst headache of my LFIEE! Note that I did not make anyone carry me up three (THREE!) flights of stairs. When I woke up sick, I stayed in bed, which is what I think anyone besides you would have done. Hopefully you've learned a lesson from that, but if not, I guess I'd help you out again. Kile Woodwork, to the rescue.

If you get better before I do, you should talk to Josie. She seems to think my one act of human decency means you and I are engaged in a torrid love affair, and someone needs to set her straight. She won't listen to me, but over the years, I've noticed people tend to listen to you.

Your friend,

Kile

I just shook my head. I could hear every snarky word as if he was standing right in front of me and saying them. At the same time, I remembered his arms around me, scooping me up and carefully tucking me into bed. This time, when I blushed, there was no fever to blame it on. Had I really been in such bad shape? Had I really asked him to stay? In my room?

Despite my embarrassment, I found myself looking back at the memory with fondness. I hadn't expected to feel that way during the Selection, especially not on the first day, especially not about Kile.

What was wrong with me?

Maybe there was something to this whole Selection thing after all.