Atlas (A Selection/Hat Films Fanfiction)

~ Fifty Two ~

I really was happy for him.

Although in my heart I was painfully jealous, I knew he would finally be safe and could have the good life he deserved. Running a country couldn't be very fun, but he was going to be a good king and thrive in this new position. Illea would finally be in the hands of someone with genuine intentions to fix the injustices that were rampant in this nation.

And I think Valeera will love him fully and faithfully.

I was escorted to the throne room for the closing ceremony by two guards. I could see that everything was thrown together last minute, though that was only because I had been to enough events to know that the decorators would never have been so sloppy to match yellow roses with white, silk streamers.

There were rows of chairs facing the dais, not unlike what a wedding might look like, but it was rather disorganized. Photographers sat next to councilmen and any dignitaries that were able to fly in on such short notice were mixed with reporters holding huge microphones. Gavril had already started covering the pre-event, so he was standing in a corner with his familiar show smile plastered on his face as he talked to one of the Report cameras. Though even from my seat I could see his animation was more from nerves than excitement.

My mother and a few of her generals were sat in the back. Of course, they would have come to see one of their own being introduced to the nation as queen-to-be. They too seemed on edge, as if at any moment someone might call them out and they would have to run.

It wasn't just the Northerners and Gavril that seemed anxious. There were guards nearly lining the walls, and I absently wondered if they had brought in reinforcements at the last minute. Some of them looked particularly scruffy, normally a grave insult to the royals, but it was all planned very quickly. A lot of the guards were shifting nervously or uncomfortably, which wasn't normal for them – usually they stood perfectly still, perfectly straight, and scanned the room only with their eyes.

The other Selected had flown in to join us at the ceremony. I was seated in the front row, between Valeera and Fox, with the other Elites fanning out on either side. I knew if I turned around, there would be three guards sitting right behind me. They clearly thought I was up to something, and Silver had just managed to convince them not to handcuff my ankles to the chair legs.

The three princes stood in front of the throne, talking quietly amongst themselves. They were all dressed in their semi-signature looks. Alex wore a full, three-piece navy suit, Ross wore a pin-stripe black jacket and trousers combo, and Christoph had on a slim fit, drop waist white suit jacket. Each wore a boutonniere with their province capitol state flower.

I couldn't help but smile at the effortlessly relaxed aura Alexandre exuded. He had a hand in his pants pocket and leaned his weight on one leg, and the side of his mouth pulled back in a lopsided smile as he laughed at something Ross had said. His brothers were handsome, but he really did have an otherworldly quality about him that distinguished him as the future king.

Hopefully, just king after today.

The three of them broke apart as the music started up, and the room quieted as a wave of heads turned to look at the entrance. The king and queen walked up the path between the chairs as the crowd stood out of respect. I looked over my shoulder, my eyes traveling across the guests across the aisle, not needing any more reminders that it was the king that kept Alex and I apart.

My stomach dropped and a copper taste filled my mouth when my eyes landed on a particular guest. He now had a beard and wore a winter cap, but I had spent years learning how to pick him out of the crowd. During cage fights, he was my coach, so I was practiced at finding him whenever I needed help or directions. I always searched the crowd of lower castes after a take down, excited to see the pride in his eyes.