The Selection

Chapter Five

We left the dining hall and continued on down a set of stairs and saw the room used to broadcast the Illea Capital Report. Back upstairs our guide pointed down a hall where the king and Maxon spent most of their time working. That area was off-limits to us."Another thing that is off-limits: the third floor. The royal family has their private rooms up there, and any sort of intrusion will not be tolerated. Your rooms are all located on the second floor. You will inhabit a large portion of the guest rooms. Not to worry, though; we still have room for any visitors coming through. "These doors here go out to the back garden. Hello, Hector, Markson." The two guards at the doors gave her a quick nod. It took me a moment to recognize that the large archway to our right was the side door to the Great Room, meaning the Women's Room was just around the corner. I was proud of myself for figuring that out. The palace was kind of like an opulent maze. "You are not to go outside under any circumstances," Silvia continued. "During the day, there will be times when you can go into the garden, but not without permission. This is merely a safety restriction. Try as we may, rebels have gotten within the grounds before." A chill went down my body. We rounded a corner and walked up the massive stairs to the second floor. The carpets felt so lush under my shoes, like I was sinking an inch every time I took a step. High windows let in light, and it smelled like flowers and sunshine. Large paintings hung on the walls, depicting the kings of the past and a few renderings of old American and Canadian leaders. At least, that's what I guessed they were. They didn't wear any crowns."Your things are already in your rooms. If the decor is unsuitable, just tell your maids. You each have three, and they are already in your rooms, too. They will help with any unpacking you might have and will help you get dressed for dinner. "Before dinner tonight, you will meet in the Women's Room for a special screening of the Illéa Capital Report. Next week, you'll all be on the show yourselves! Tonight you'll get to see some of the footage they've taken of you leaving your homes and arriving here. It promises to be very special. You should know that Prince Maxon hasn't seen anything yet today. He'll see what all of Illéa will see tonight, and then you will officially meet him tomorrow. "You girls will all be having dinner as a group, so you will be able to meet one another, and then, tomorrow, the games begin!"

This was exhilarating, this is like the hunger games! I have never wanted to jump into a competition more. I hope my room has an easel! We start to drop off the selected into their rooms, i share a hallway with Marlee and a girl named Natalie. I was right in the middle of things, all of the hustle and bustle, no privacy here. Once Silvia left, I opened my door to the excited gasps of three women. One was sewing in a corner, and the others were cleaning an already perfect room. They scurried over and introduced themselves as Grace, Nicole and Poppy. They looked like lovely girls, I just didn't feel comfortable bossing girls around, I've been bossed around my whole life. "What should we do miss?" The shortest one says, Poppy I think her name was. "Oh please you have already done more than enough, you all should do what you please for the afternoon, take a break!" I insist, they needed convincing but I made them leave. There was a flurry of thanks and bows, which I tried to discourage, I was no better than them, were equals. I looked around the room. It was gorgeous, the bed was a four poster, all white, clearly waiting to be designed by me, I couldn't wait to make it my own. There was a huge vanity table with my belongings laid out on it, and in the corner there was an easel, the most beautiful easel ever, paints and canvases were next to it on a cabinet, I had never been happier. I traced along the edge of the canvases, they felt Expensive.

It felt like only a few moments before my maids quietly tapped on my door. I let them in and, as strange as it was, let them dress me. They were just so excited to be helpful, I couldn't ask them to leave again.

They pulled parts of my hair back with delicate pins and freshened my makeup. The dress-which, along with the rest of my wardrobe, had been created by their hands was Yellow and floor length. Without those tiny heels again I'd stumble all over it. Silvia knocked on my door promptly at six to take me and my three neighbors down the hall. We waited in the foyer by the stairway for everyone to come and then marched down to the Women's Room. Marlee spotted me, and we walked together. The sound of thirty-five pairs of heels on the marble stairs was the music of some elegant stampede. There were a few murmurs, but most girls were silent. I noticed as we passed the dining room that the doors were closed. Was the royal family in there now? Perhaps taking in one last meal as the three of them? It seemed strange that we were their guests but hadn't met a single one of them yet. The Women's Room had changed since we left. The mirrors and racks were all gone, and tables and chairs dotted the floor along with some very comfortable-looking couches. Marlee looked at me and inclined her head toward one of the couches, and we sat there together. Once we were all settled the TV was turned on, and we watched the Report. There were the same announcements as ever-budget updates for projects, progress of the war, and another rebel attack in the East-and then the last half hour was Gavril making commentary over footage of our day. "Here Miss Celeste Newsome says good-bye to her many admirers in Clermont. It took this lovely young lady more than an hour to break away from her fans."
I saw Celeste smile smugly as she watched herself onscreen. She was sitting next to me and Bariel Pratt, who had hair straight as a bone and so pale blond it looked white as it fell to her waist. There was no mild way to put it: Her breasts were huge. They crept out of her strapless dress, tempting anyone to try and ignore them. Bariel was beautiful, but in a typical way. It was similar to Celeste's style. I wasn't sure exactly how, but the image of them side by side prompted the thought, Keep your enemies closer. I think they'd singled each other out right away as the other's strongest competition. "The others from the Mideast were just as popular. Ashley Brouillette's quiet, refined demeanor sets her apart immediately as a lady. As she carries herself through the crowd, she wears a humble, beautiful expression not too different from the face of the queen herself." "And Marlee Tames of Kent was all bubbles as she departed today, singing the national anthem with her send-off band." Pictures of Marlee smiling and embracing people from her home province flashed across the screen. "She's an immediate favorite of several people we interviewed today." I saw her reach over and grab Americas hand, I love their friendship but I can't help but feel jealous.

"Also traveling with Miss Tames was America Singer, one of only three Fives who made it into the Selection." They made me look better than I felt in the moment. All I remembered was searching the crowds, sad. But the footage they chose of me searching made me appear mature and caring. The image of me hugging my father was touching, beautiful. Still, it was nothing compared to the images of me in the airport. "But we know castes mean nothing in the Selection, and it seems Lady America is not to be overlooked. Upon landing in Angeles, Lady Singer was the crowd darling at the airport, stopping to take pictures, sign autographs, and simply speak to anyone there. Miss America Singer is not afraid to get her hands dirty, a quality that many believe our next princess needs." She looked embarrassed. "And last but not least, Miss Florence Lannister stunned the World with her entrance." They show me hugging my sister and parents along with my brothers, they presented me as a family character. "She was amazing with the people of Illea at the airport, for a five she was fit to be a one!" Pictures of me hugging children and shaking hands appeared, I did look like a one in that moment in time. "Florence Lannister is an image for confidence and caring, an inspiration for young girls."Nearly everyone turned to look at me. I could see it in their eyes, the same look I'd gotten from Emmica and Samantha. Suddenly those stares made sense. My intentions didn't matter. They didn't know I didn't want this. In their eyes, I was a threat. And I could see they wanted me gone.