Atlas (A Selection/Hat Films Fanfiction)

~ Thirty Five ~

I didn't know if I should even be preparing for the debate. We had the tea party first, but I was more worried about what I was going to do when I had to directly comment on politics to the country. I knew some of the topics other Elites were going with; They chose things like community gardens, the ethics of zoos, old-world history in schools, all simple and safe topics. The most controversial was Anouk, who was going to debate the gold standard and why Illea should transition away from it.

The debate was the last 'trial' for the Elites, and the end of the selection would be soon after. Tabloids speculated about why there was still seven girls instead of the final six, and of course they talked about me, but I tried to stay away from the gossip magazines. My maids were able to get me the local and national newspapers, even though that wasn't something we were supposed to read while we were here, and I was still the main topic.

It felt weird to read my own name in a serious publication. There was a hot divide between those who called for my disqualifications and others who vehemently wanted me as queen. Those felt worse than the articles that called me a traitor for disrespecting the royal family. Because I was hiding away in the castle the entire time, these real-world discussions about me felt surreal. In public polls, I was consistently number one, though Albany blamed it on the poor and working castes that were inflating the votes. I didn't point out that their opinions mattered too.

Ross and I hadn't spoken since the Convicting two days ago. Every time I saw him, I readied myself for the conversation about sending me home. I knew I should just go talk to him instead of waiting anxiously, but even though I was miserable I still hated the idea of leaving.

I wish I knew why. I could go and see Aristotle right now if I wanted to, but something was making me stay.

My maids wished me a goodnight and left, giving me the silence to think about my tea party invitations. Each Elite was to bring two people, but it was implied that they had to be somewhat important. This was an opportunity for me to do. . . something. It had been rattling around in my brain for days, but I had very limited choices and no one to bounce ideas off of.

I heard a knock on the door, and I jumped up to answer it immediate without questioning who it might be.

A tall, dark haired, blue eyed prince stood before me. "Hello Atlas," Ross greeted with a reserved smile, "may I come in?"

I held the door open and motioned to my bed. He sat down on the edge of it with his hands clasped awkwardly in his lap, and I walked over to join him. Already I could tell something was wrong.

"Uh, how are you?" he asked after an awkward silence, pivoting stiffly to face me.

"Ross," I sighed, skipping the pleasantries, "I'm really sorry. . . about what I said at the Convicting. It was wrong, and I didn't mean to hurt you."

He seemed taken aback, but he hid his surprise well with a sigh. "Yes," he muttered quietly, "That did sting. . ."

"I'm sorry-" I started again, but he cut me off.

"I understand, Atlas," he replied quickly, "What happened was not fair on you, and I cannot imagine what my father might have said to you after. Uh, you do not have to tell me."

For that, I was grateful.

I wanted to apologize again. I hadn't been able to sleep for the past two nights because I was so plagued with guilt, but I thought the more I said it the less genuine it would become. All I could do is watch him carefully as his eyes flit around my room. If he wasn't leaving, it meant he had more to say.

"Is that all you wanted to talk about?" I asked softly. I had tried to prepare myself for this conversation, but still I felt the contents of my stomach turn to water and my head spun. I wanted to get it over with so I could cry in my bed alone.