The Selection- Etheral

chapter one

chapter one: the beginnings

        "Lottie dearest, won't you go get ready? Your maids are waiting to get you dressed! You have to be first in line to sign up! Or else how is the prince ever going to notice you!" My mother called. Her voice echoed around our practically empty yet exceptionally large house.

 We were Twos, the highest caste before the royal family itself. Illea had a very strict caste system. Eights the lowest, ones the highest. Each caste has their own jobs to do.

Since we were Twos, my father was a popular singer, but was never home and always working. My mother was a model. I was a failure.

I had tried everything. Singing, dancing, acting, modeling. Nothing worked. I had an awful singing voice, was extremely clumsy, couldn't take acting seriously, and simply couldn't stay put long enough to hold a modeling pose.

 So, my parents were over the moon when the Selection was announced. It happened whenever the prince needed to find a princess, and lucky me, it was starting soon. My parents decided even if Prince Milo sent me home on the first day, I would remain a celebrity until the day I died.

You see, the Selection is sort of a huge deal. It rarely happens, and when it does, girls all over Illea submit their papers and photo and the prince and his family choses thirty- five girls to come to the castle. He eliminates them if he doesn't like them. Last one standing gets the boy, and the crown.

Honestly, I'm not really into Prince Milo. Yeah, every girl over the country is swooning right now and hurrying to sign up, but he's too proper. Too stiff. Being a queen seems hard and boring.

The only reason I'm signing up is because my parents want me too. Since my parents are the most famous couple in Illea other that the king and queen, I'm already all over the magazines and I'm basically a shoo-in. Half the nation is cheering for me. I'll go to the palace, ask him to send me home a few days in, say we didn't have a spark, and get to go home and make my parents, and Illea, happy. Ta-da.

"Lottie! Stop daydreaming and get ready NOW! You have to be stunning! Maids, get her ready!" My mom hollers again.

I sigh, and turn to my maids. Olive, the oldest and leader. Brutally honesty, sort of mean. Emma, the quiet, steady worker. Sophia, the very young, very loud maid, around my age, and my closest friend. All three of the maids are the closest people I'll ever have for friends. My mom won't let anyone near me because she's afraid they will use me. She's not wrong, but still.

I roll out of bed, pushing my lavish pink duvet aside. I never cared for pink, but my mom chose it.

"Ma'am, are you ready?" Olive asks.

"Get on with it," I yawn. I know the drill. We're the only family other than the royals with maids. I guess I'll fit right in at the palace.

The girls get to work, guiding me to the bathroom where they draw my bath. They scrub me clean, and thoroughly brush through my typically knotted dark hair. They tie it up in cornrows, and hurriedly get to washing my face and teeth. I stare at myself in the mirror, as I do everyday. I guess I could be considered pretty, but my mom's a model, so it's not like a had a choice. My ethnicity could only be described as a mixing pot. My mom is mixed between black and white, but her skin is darker. My dad is Greek and Italian, with a bit of black mixed in. My skin is dark, but my facial features are more Greek. I like the way I look.

"We have two options," Sophia squeals.

"First is this one," Emma points. I gasp. The dress can't be described expect for gorgeous. A plunging neckline dips down into a tight bodice, lightly decorated with flowers. The dress is a deep blue, and as it pans down, it becomes lighter and fluffier. It's stunning. A little too stunning.

"It might be too much ma'am, this is just a shoulder-up image," Olive explains before pulling out the next one.

It's perfect. Knee-length, shorter than the other, but more practical for the photo. It's sunshine yellow, my favorite color. A sweetheart neckline leads the dress into a simple bodice. The skirt flows out beautifully, short, and the same material as the dress.

"I prefer the second. Easier to walk in, doesn't make me seem over the top," I say. The girls smile with approval.

"You can wear the first beautiful one on your first date with the prince!" Sophia sighed. "You should bring it with you!"

"She hasn't even been chosen yet, be realistic now," Olive says matter-of-factly.

I giggle. "I know one thing. If I am getting chosen, I'm taking you guys with me. All three of you started off working in the palace. You all know it."

Sophia jumps up and down, and a smile creeps across Emma's face.

"Now, that would be rude of us—" Olive begins, but cuts off when she realizes what it means. It's no secret that she used to be in love with a guard from the palace. I giggle with excitement. This is going to be fun!