The Selection (Troyler AU)

♔Part VI♔

*Kinda sorta trigger warning ( not smut, rape, or self-harm ) so if you're sensitive to, er, beating, I'd leave now.

One Week Later

Tyler POV

"Ah, she seems like a lovely choice," my father says under his breath in satisfaction, as he rifled through the advocates from Kent, looking over a nineteen-year old woman named Zoella Sugg. "How do you like this one, Tyler?"

I shrugged I differently. "She seems fine," I said, not giving an obvious opinion, even though I know that she was pretty much already chosen, from the light in his eyes.

"Fine? She's a fantastic candidate for the Queen! Look, Tyler, she's a Two, she fits the image of a Queen, and she had connections to Britain. You know we've been meaning to patch up our relations with them for some now, eh?" he explained, enthusiastically.

I glanced at her profile again: she seemed like a nice enough girl, but I knew I'd never want to marry her. I didn't tell my father that though, simply nodding along in consent.

"Alright, good. Zoella Sugg of Kent," he muttered to himself. He pointed at one of the guards standing alert at the other end of the room, and called out,"You there, write this down, will you?" The guard nodded quickly, bowing in a sloppy motion, and scrambled off into the next room to find the utensils needed to record this in a fashion that I would've almost been comical, had I found anything my father did funny.

Not long later, the guard was back in a rush, the father was telling him record Zoella, as well as a few other girls that he never reviewed with me, such as Bethany Mota from Clermont ( Two ), Jenna Mourey from Sota ( Four ), Jenn McAllister from Belcourt ( Three ), and Andrea Russett from Angeles ( Four ). I figured that he wouldn't take my opinion on a lot of the girls, making his own judgments on what would apparently suit the throne better, and not taking my own feelings into account.

Then again, it's not like I cared one way or another, right?

I returned to going through applications, and picked one up from Labrador, of a twenty year old woman named Tanya Burr. She was a Three, training to be a teacher. "She looks promising," I murmured, and handed the form to my father, knowing that without his approval, no one would get chosen.

He examined her file, his eyes narrowed the further down he read, until he finally shook his head. "No, she won't do. The future King of Illèa can do better, don't you think?"

I swallowed my frustration, gritting my teeth, and nodded curtly. "Of course," I muttered, and placed her file back, silently praying that she gets a better chance at life than being married to someone who doesn't want her, anyways.

I decided to leave the Calgary province alone, letting my father deal with that area instead, and moved on to St. George. I looked through those, but I honestly wasn't paying much attention anyways. No matter who gets chosen, I won't ever want to marry them; I know that for a fact. Not to mention that my father's idea of a good bride is far different from mine - with the exception of my mother, of course.

Eventually, I started scanning through the Fours and up only, knowing that that's all my father will ever settle for. I started picking at random, selecting girls that my father would deem appropriate and convenient at the same time.

I was starting to get impatient, the more I dug through the applications. I just wanted to get out of here, and away from my father; this was the longest we've spent together in who knows how long, and I wasn't enjoying it in the slightest. I could see him ridiculing my choices, giving me disdainful looks every now and then, and even scoffing at the earlier choices before I gave in and chose "pleasing" advocates.