As promised, "Kile has had a crush on Eadlyn this whole time" AU. May deserve a second chapter somewhere down the line.

"Will you quit stepping on my feet?" Eadlyn huffed.

"I'm not trying to!" I insisted, narrowly avoiding her toes for probably the tenth time. "You're supposed to be teaching me how to do this."

"You've been waltzing since you could walk! I should hope you know what you're doing!"

Alright, maybe the problem wasn't that I couldn't waltz. The problem was, actually, that I was a tiny little bit very distracted. By my dance partner. She had such an ego/attitude problem that I was able to forget how pretty she was. Usually. When we were dancing, closer than we ever had reason to be, her prettiness was kind of punching me in the face. Even when we were doing what we did best- slinging insults at each other- I couldn't stop noticing her sharp hazel eyes and walnut hair, one of the only times I'd ever seen it loose and spilling around her shoulders, and her collarbone. Freaking collarbones. I was determined not to let my gaze slip any lower, because I could only imagine how she'd let me have it, but let me tell you, it was not easy.

I'd been telling myself for years, trying to make myself believe it: there were plenty of girls out there just as pretty as Her Royal Highness Eadlyn Schreave that didn't have her mean streak. Unfortunately, I had yet to meet any of them, and unfortunately, I wasn't waltzing with one of those girls. Unfortunately, it was Eadlyn so close to my chest, her fingertips brushing the back of my neck. Also, it was her snapping at me to pay attention, Kile! because I really was not doing a good job of that.

"You're making me look bad!" she went on. I could not stop staring at her mouth. Hopeless, that was what I was. "Silvia's going to be so mad at me! I know you can do better than this!"

I sighed heavily. As infuriating as Eadlyn could be, I did have this deep-seated need to please her, so I really did my best to shape up. "One, two, three. One, two, three."

She curled her lip at me. Dammit, I really shouldn't have noticed that. "You have to count for a waltz?"

"Shh. It's helping."

With my careful count and newfound dedication to not stepping on Eadlyn's toes, our awkward shuffle turned into something that might have had a place in a ballroom. I even managed to dip her, complete with grace and style, and her pleased little smile after made it all worth it.

The song came to an end, and Eadlyn and I stepped back from each other. It was instant, the way my arms missed her shape. I mentally kicked myself in the ass. Those were the bad thoughts, and they needed to shut up. Eadlyn hated my guts. I couldn't be making lost-puppy-dog eyes at her, because she'd never let me hear the end of it.

"Just a short break, everyone!" called Silvia, the dance/general etiquette instructor. "And remember- dancing is an art, not a science! Your movements should be smooth and graceful as well as precise."

Apparently Silvia had not gotten the memo that I was doing my goddamn best.

Eadlyn ran a hand through her hair, which left me, quite frankly, mesmerized. She never left her hair down- it was always in a businesslike bun atop her head, or the very serious French braids that kept every strand out of her face. "Oh, I just want to put this up!" she lamented, holding it back into a ponytail. "C'mon, are you sure you don't have a rubber band or something?"

I cocked my head towards my sister, across the ballroom with Ahren. "Josie always has a couple extra hair bands on her wrist."

In a rare moment of un-princess-like behavior, Eadlyn pretended to vomit. "That's never going to happen, and you should know better than to imply that it might!"

I should know better than a lot of things. Namely, I should have known better than to ever get this close to her, because this foolish crush of mine was going to knock me on my ass one of these days.

It was one thing to acknowledge that the princess was pretty. That was objectively true. She knew it and everyone else knew it; it would have been more suspicious to deny it.

But to be head over heels in love with her?

That, I was pretty sure, was going to be the death of me.

Not like that was anything new.

"Just relax!" Silvia trilled when we began to dance again. Yeah, like that was even possible for me in this moment. "And closer! The two of you need to stand closer!"

Eadlyn shuffled a step closer to me. I immediately- though not on purpose- stepped on her foot, and she rolled her eyes to high heaven. "I can't help it!" I hissed, not wanting Silvia to hear. "You're too close to me! I can't see where my feet are!"

"You shouldn't have to look!"

Silvia heard that, and she shot Eadlyn a withering look. "Your Highness, some of your suitors may be even worse dancers than Mr. Woodwork."

Thanks, Silvia.

"Some of them may not know how to dance at all. Before the Selection begins, you will need to learn to be gracious."

That's what all this was leading up to, the dance practice and general extra Silvia lessons: a Selection. One boy from each province would be chosen to compete for Eadlyn's heart and the role of Prince Consort. It seemed a bit archaic, and certainly not something fiercely independent Eadlyn would choose to do, but I couldn't complain. It was the only chance I had to make her see me as something other than a nuisance.

Eadlyn was perceptive. I don't think it would surprise her to hear I had put my name in, as much as we might argue. What she (hopefully) didn't know was that I'd recruited her brother Osten to make seventeen hundred copies of my application and destroy every other form.

Cheating? Technically. But I could come to terms with it as long as she called my name for Angeles.

Besides, getting my name drawn was the easy part. There would still be thirty-four other options, none of whom Eadlyn had prior beef with. Getting her to take me seriously would be much more difficult. No one could make Eadlyn do something she didn't want to do.

That made it all the more impressive she was still here, dancing with me and driving me crazy at the same time. And yes, I knew I was dumb for being flattered, but until she read my name out for the Selection, stepping on her toes and hissing insults under our breath was the best I was going to get.

Thank God for dance lessons.