The Selection

Chapter Eight.

I was so hungry that it felt like an eternity until he'd gone through the last rows. But finally the last girl was back in her seat, and I was eagerly anticipating my first breakfast at the palace. Maxon walked to the center of the room. "If I have asked you to remain behind, please stay in your seats. If not, please proceed with Silvia here into the dining hall. I will join you shortly." Asked to stay? Was that a good thing? I stood, as did most of the girls, and started walking. He must just want some special time with those girls. I saw that Ashley was one of them. No doubt she was special, a born princess by the looks of her. The rest were girls I hadn't managed to meet. Not that they had wanted to meet me. The cameras lingered behind to capture whatever special moment was about to occur, and the rest of us moved on. We walked into the banquet room and there, looking more majestic than even I could imagine, were King Clarkson and Queen Amberly. Also in the room, more camera crews swarmed to catch our first meeting. I hesitated, wondering if we should all go back to the door and be invited in. But most everyone else-if somewhat hesitantly-kept walking. I walked quickly to my chair, hoping I hadn't drawn attention to myself. Silvia walked in not two seconds later and took in the scene. "Ladies," she said, "I'm afraid we didn't get this far. Whenever you enter a room where the king or queen is present, or if they should enter a room you are in, the proper thing to do is curtsy. Then when you are addressed, you may rise and take your seat. All together, shall we?" And we all curtsied in the direction of the head table. "Welcome, girls," the queen said. "Please take your seats, and welcome to the palace. We're pleased to have you." There was something pleasant about her voice. It was calm in the same way her expression was, but not lifeless by any means. As Silvia had said, the servers came to our right to pour orange juice into our glasses. Our plates came covered on large trays, and the butlers lifted the covers off right in front of us. I was hit in the face with a fragrant blast of steam from my pancakes. Mercifully, the murmurs of awe across the room covered my growling stomach. King Clarkson blessed our food, and we all began to eat. A few minutes later, Maxon walked in to take his seat, but before we could move, he called out.

"Please don't rise, ladies. Enjoy your breakfasts." He walked up to the head table, kissed his mother on the cheek, gave his father a firm pat on the back, and settled into his own chair just to the king's left. He made a few comments to the closest butler, who laughed quietly, and then dug into his own plate. Ashley didn't come. Or any of the other girls. I looked around, confused, counting to see how many were missing. Eight. Eight girls were not here. It was Kriss, sitting across from me, who answered the question in my eyes. "They're gone," she said. "Gone?" I couldn't imagine what they had done in less than five minutes to displease Maxon, but I was suddenly grateful I'd chosen to be honest. Just like that, we were down to twenty-seven. THE CAMERAS DID A LAP around the room and left to let us enjoy our breakfast in peace, getting one last shot of the prince before they departed. I was a little thrown off by the sudden elimination, but Maxon didn't seem too distressed. He ate his food without a care, and as I watched I realized I should eat my own breakfast before it got cold. Again, it was almost too delicious. The orange juice was so pure that I had to take smaller sips just to absorb it. The eggs and bacon were heaven, and the pancakes were perfectly done, not too thin like the ones I made at home. I heard lots of little sighs all around me and knew I wasn't the only one enjoying the food. Remembering to use the tongs, I picked up a strawberry tart from the basket in the center of the table. As I did so, I looked around the room to see how the other Fives were enjoying their meals. That was when I noticed it was only me and America left of the fives.I didn't know if Maxon was aware of that information-he barely seemed to know our names-but it was strange they were both gone. If I had been another stranger to Maxon when I walked into that room, would I have been kicked out, too? I mean it doesn't mean anything, there were 4 fives and half of them were eliminated on day one. It could just be a coincidence I mulled this over as I bit into the strawberry tart. It was so sweet and the dough was so flaky, every millimeter of my mouth was engaged, taking over the rest of my senses entirely. I didn't mean to make the little moan, but it was by far the best thing I had ever tasted. I took another bite before I even swallowed the first.

"Lady America?" Maxon called out, he caught America at a bad time as she had a huge mouthful of food. "Yes, Your Majesty?" She replied, looking embarrassed. "How are you enjoying the food?" Maxon seemed on the verge of laughter."It's excellent, Your Majesty. This strawberry tart ... well, I have a sister who loves sweets more than I do. I think she'd cry if she tasted this. It's perfect." Maxon swallowed a bite of his own breakfast and leaned back in his chair. "Do you really think she would cry?" He seemed exceedingly amused. "Yes, actually, I do. She doesn't have much of a filter when it comes to her emotions." "Would you wager money on it?" he asked quickly. That shocked me."If I had any to bet, I certainly would." America looked happy with herself, good on her. "What would you be willing to barter instead? You seem to be very good at striking deals." He was enjoying this little game."Well, what do you want?" America says, giving him a knowing look. "What do you want?" he countered. "If she cries, I want to wear pants for a week," America asked. Everyone laughed, but in a quiet, polite way. Even the king and queen seemed to find her amusing. "Done," Maxon said. "And if she doesn't, you owe me a walk around the grounds tomorrow afternoon." A walk on the grounds? Really?

Someone next to me made a disapproving sound. People though she'll be the first person to officially get time one-on-one with the prince. Part of me wanted to tell everyone I am but that would ruin everything . I need to wait my turn."You drive a hard bargain, sir, but I accept." "Justin?" The butler he had spoken to earlier stepped forward. "Go make a parcel of strawberry tarts and send it to the lady's family. Have someone wait while her sister tastes it, and let us know if she does, in fact, cry. I'm most curious about this." Justin nodded and was off. "You should write a note to send with it, and tell your family you're safe. In fact, you all should. After breakfast, write a letter to your families, and we'll make sure they receive them today." Everyone smiled and sighed, happy to finally be included in the goings-on. We finished the rest of our breakfast and went to write our letters. Poppy found me some stationery, and I wrote a quick letter to my family. Even though things had gotten off to a very awkward start, the last thing I wanted was for them to worry. I tried to sound breezy.

Dear Mom, Dad, Amie, Jamie, and Robb

I miss you all so much already! The prince wanted us to write home and let our families know we were safe and well. I am both. The plane ride was a little scary, but it was fun in a way, too. The world looks so small from up so high! They've given me lots of wonderful clothes and things, and I have three sweet maids who help me get dressed and clean for me and tell me where to go. So even if I get totally confused, they always know just where I'm supposed to be and help me get there on time. The other girls are mostly shy, but I think I might have a friend. You remember Marlee from Kent? I met her on the way over to Angeles. She's very bright and friendly. If I have to come home anytime soon, I'm hoping she makes it to the end. I'm also kind of friends with Celeste, she's a two.I have met the prince. The king and queen, too. They're even more regal in person. I haven't spoken to them yet, but I did talk to Prince Maxon. He's a surprisingly generous person... I think. I have to go, but I love you and miss you, and I'll write again as soon as I can.

Love,

Florence.