Inspiration? Idk her. Reading sounds like more fun than writing- writing one-shots, at least. I got ANOTHER idea for a 40k-ish-word Kile and Eadlyn fic, but I can't start that until I finish at least ONE of the big projects I'm in the middle of right now, and then one more after that- so uhhhh summer of 2025 maybe?

Also I got a puppy.

Anyway this chapter is kind of mid, but you really should just be proud of me for getting any words out at all. The characters are not doing what I tell them to :(

Ahren and Camille had the most beautiful wedding. Well, technically it was all just pomp and circumstance, because they'd been legally married since Ahren first moved to France a month ago, but it was some really impressive pomp and circumstance. Despite my best efforts- I was not the type of girl who got sappy over this stuff- I got all teary as they vowed to love each other forever. Kaden had to hand me his handkerchief, because my dress, although gorgeous, didn't have any pockets.

The reception was just as grand as the ceremony. The ballroom was beautifully decorated, and Ahren had promised a five-course meal before the dancing began. Kile, my date for the weekend, leaned over to me. "Will your wedding be this grand?"

"Probably even grander. I won't elope, so there'll be more time to plan. Hale won't have to rush making the dress."

"Hale's making the dress? Even if he's the groom?"

"Especially if he's the groom."

"If Hale knew that, he'd already be begging to marry you."

"As if the rest of you aren't," I retorted. "Kile, this is a huge milestone in Ahren's life. Please don't disrespect it by using your salad fork for potatoes."

Kile looked exasperated. "Is there really that much of a difference?"

"Yes!"

While we were bickering, Mom stood at the head table and made a speech in honor of Camille and Ahren's eternal love- at least, that's what I think she was talking about. She gave the entire speech in French, and I did not have what one would call "a firm handle" on the language of love. Trying to keep up with translating in my head was difficult, and I suddenly understood what it was like to be Henri.

It didn't really matter what she was saying, though. It was enough to see my mom standing on her own two feet, looking healthy and definitely not like she'd just recovered from open heart surgery. The doctors had only given her clearance to travel a couple days before we left, and thank God for that, because if Mom had stayed home, giving the speech would have fallen to me. I had no qualms about addressing large crowds, mind you- the issue was, as always, French.

After dinner and speeches, the band struck up a romantic violin piece, and Ahren and Camille took the floor for their first dance. I almost had to borrow Kaden's handkerchief again. Just by looking at them, you could tell how much they loved each other. In sickness and in health, through time zones and tyrannical twin sisters, they had never hesitated. That was the strength of their love.

The idea was still foreign to me, but I was coming to terms with it. I wanted someone to look at me like that.

When the song ended, Kile nudged me. "C'mon, let's get out there."

I was taken aback. "You want to dance?"

"Isn't that part of the terms and conditions of me being your date?"

"Well, yes, but I didn't have time to get it notarized, so I can't enforce it."

"I'm enforcing it. Dance with me."

Technically, Kile wasn't allowed to tell me to do anything- it was in his Selection contract, which was notarized- but I let it slide and grabbed his hand. For now, we were outside of the Selection. Forget the contractual obligation to date each other; we could just be a boy and a girl who wanted to dance.

I didn't know the song, but I picked up on the rhythm easily. I let Kile lead for once, one hand on the small of my back and the other clasping mine. It felt shockingly natural for us to move together, almost-perfect harmony. After so many years of snipping at each other from across the halls, I resisted giving Kile any credit at all, but now I was forced to acknowledge he was both a very good dancer and very handsome in black tie.

I guess I'd already known that last part. Even back when I didn't like Kile, I wasn't blind. Despite living with his nose in a book, the guy had commendable muscling. And a cute smile.

I forced myself back to small talk, back to charted territory. Regardless of the arrangement between us ("You're hot. I'm hot. Let's pretend this won't make things complicated.") we were in a public place. My brother's wedding. Now was not at all the time to be daydreaming about Kile's lips. He was looking at me so innocently, clearly focused on our little waltz; I felt like a degenerate.

Then he dipped me low and asked me what floor my bedroom was on. After that, I didn't feel so crazy.

As tempting as it was beginning to sound, I couldn't dance with Kile the whole evening. Custom indicated we were to switch partners frequently and socialize, something I viewed as an inconvenience until I ended up spinning around with the groom himself, my brother. Going a month without seeing him had been hard. After living together and relying on him for the first eighteen years of my life, I had been so lost (and furious, honestly) when he left. I had since worked through the anger. I had not worked through how much I missed him.

"You're glowing," I said teasingly. "Any chance there's already another prince or princess of France on the way?"

Ahren grimaced. Perks of being twins- he always knew exactly what I was getting at. "Just the bliss of being married, I'm afraid. I think Camille wants to ascend to Queen before making any prince or princesses."

"How terribly dull of you."

"What about you? I was worried I'd have to stop you from proposing during my wedding."

I blanched, thinking back to my last dance. "Prince Gustav? Ick, Ahren."

"I meant Kile. The two of you looked pretty happy together."

I allowed my gaze to drift across the room and find him, dancing with one of Camille's cousins. I acknowledged how irritated I felt to see someone else in his arms. "We are happy. Or at least, enjoying the festivities. That doesn't mean I'm ready to decide."

Ahren twirled me dramatically. "Why'd you bring him? Why not one of the other Elite?"

Looking back, I could have explained it the same way I explained it to Mom or even the Elite themselves. I had put the Elite through a series of tests, rating their mastery of the French language and wedding etiquette. It had been close, but Kile performed the best overall.

Instead, I told the truth I had previously kept to myself. "He's always wanted to get out of the palace and travel. I thought he might appreciate a week in France more than the others."

Ahren gaped. Had it not been his wedding, I might have stepped on his feet to remind him who was the most powerful person in the world. "Really? So you, Eadlyn Schreave, acted in someone else's best interest?"

"Shut up," I suggested. "That tone is treason."

"I answer to Queen Daphne now," Ahren said smugly. "But I think your answer proves my point. You care about Kile."

"Of course I do. I care about all my Elite. Equally," I emphasized. "Well, except Gunner, I guess."

"I don't think you're being totally honest with yourself."

"Ahren, you have to understand: this is all new to me." I looked around the room again, eyes landing on Kile. He looked like he was having a good time, but not too good of a time, if you catch my drift. "It's better if I take my time. I don't want to mess this up."