Princess of Illéa

Chapter 2 - Drawing and arrival of the Selected

The three of us are in the dressing room, my make-up is done, all that's left is for Maxon and my mother.

"Are you okay, sir?" I hear Maxon's make-up artist ask.

I look at Maxon, he seems to be sweating.

"I'm just upset because none of the lipstick shades you have there match me." Maxon says, trying to deflect the situation with his humor.

Mom and I giggle.

"I think I'm okay. Thank you." he says.

"Me too." Mom says, and then the two makeup artists leave.

I notice my mother straightening up in her chair so that she can talk to us better. Before turning to my brother she looks at me and smiles.

"Maxon, my love, are you really all right?" she asks him.

He looks back at her.

"It's just that..."

"I know. It's stressful for anyone, but at the end of the day it's just hearing the names of a handful of girls. That's all."

Today is the draw to select the girls who will take part in the Selection.

Maxon takes a deep breath and nods. Mom gets up and goes over to where Dad is. We're both standing now. I go over to him, take his hand and squeeze it, giving him a slight smile.

"Everything will be fine, Max. Think on the bright side, there's no need to stress yourself with nerves today since it's only the draw, leave it to you to worry when the day comes that the Selected will come to live with us."

He looks back at me, squeezes my hand, and smiles, not so genuinely, I imagine because he's nervous.

"It is easy to talk about it so calmly when it is not your Selection, little sister." he says jokingly.

"True," I say, chuckling. "But in any case, there's no reason to get stressed out before your time."

He takes another deep breath and then gestures with his head for us to go to where our father and mother are.

"Pull yourself together. You look terrible." my father tells him.

Considering the circumstances, I feel lucky not to receive the attention from my father that Maxon does. I'd rather be ignored than treated as harshly as my father treats my brother.

"How did you get through this?" Maxon asks, almost begging for an answer.

"I faced everything with confidence, because I was the prince. And you will do the same. Do I need to remind you that you are the prize?"

I am very lucky. I don't know how Maxon can stand being treated like that.

"They are the ones who compete for you." he continues. "Not the other way around. Nothing will change in your life, you will just have to deal with a handful of euphoric girls for a few weeks."

"What if I don't like any of them?"

This is a doubt I've always been happy not to have, since I'll never have the Selection.

"Then choose the one you hate the least. Preferably one that is useful. Don't worry about that. I will help you."

It's so disgusting how he speaks so calmly. I've never agreed with this form of marriage, it is all about maintaining a good impression and pleasing the country's population.

Maxon does not seem reassured by my father's words.

"Ten seconds." comes the announcement. Mom sits in her usual place, to my father's left, and I, as usual, sit next to her, while Maxon sits to my father's right.