The Selection ~ Next Generation ~ Fanfiction

Alanah

The perfume they put on me reeked of rose petals. The smell was so strong I thought I'd be sick. Darcy sews a dress in the corner while Miriam does my hair. Miriam was fit to be a maid, unlike me. She is careful with the curler and calms me when I act up. Twice now I've told her that I shouldn't look this good. But, every time she coos me with her words, "Prince Edmond will like it." She puts another curl into my already bouncy hair.

"You look lovely, miss." Darcy comments as she works her hands through the tough fabric. The dress design was like an ombre. Red at the top and orange at the bottom; it's like a fire.

"Thank you. Please call me Ellyn." I tell her. "I rather be caught with my real name than a fake one." I reassure her.

Both of my maids nod and continue with their tasks. In the end, I look completely unrecognizable. My brunette hair was pulled up in a tight knot, and little strands were hanging over my eyes. The gown went to the floor and was covered with glitter. Even my face looked different from all the makeup.

"Oh my gosh. You are amazing, Miriam and Darcy."

They gush and run over to me. Miriam tells me that they need to get me down in the hall for a welcoming ceremony.

After a little while of walking I arrive in possibly the most grand place in the palace. I can't help but gasp. Every wall was striped in gold and white. No piece of wall was left untouched. A huge chandelier hung from the ceiling. I was in awe.

"Wow."

I turn and see a girl standing right next to me. She looks about my age and I assume she's one of the Selected. "Hello."

She looks startled, "Oh, hello. I didn't see you there." She giggles and I join her.

"Isn't it lovely?" I say nodding my head towards the walls.

"Yes! It's so pretty."

"What's your name?" I ask, trying to see if I remember her from The Report.

"Alanah." She says, reaching her hand out. "Alanah Farmer."

Her name sounded familiar.

"Do you recognize me?"

"Yes, yes I do."

"My grandma is Anna Farmer. She was one of the Selected."

That's where I remembered her. In school, we memorized all the names of the previous Selected. It was part of history. "That's where I remember you. So, are you one of the Selected as well?"

"Yes, I am. I don't remember you from The Report. So are you . . ."

"Yes I am." I try to shoot the idea down, but now I have to introduce myself. "My name is Felicity Shalom."

She looks confused. "From Hondurogua?"

"Yes, that's me." Her expression stays the same. I'm about to ask her what's wrong, but she gets to it before me. "Hmm, that's funny."

Uh oh. "What's funny?"

"Because I'm from Hondurogua."