Next in Line ⤕ (The Selection AU) (Ambi/Tyrus)

The Beginning

I fixed my hair for what felt like the millionth time this morning. I was beginning to feel absolutely suffocated in this tiny powder room, shoved in with 9 other ladies wearing gowns as big as castles. I felt small compared to them. These ladies were all from higher socioeconomic classes, ranging from two class 7's to even a class 10; whereas I was only considered a class 5. People from class 5 weren't necessarily considered to be the lowest of the low (that would be class 1 or 2, obviously), but we weren't exactly 'up there'. We had the jobs of teachers and artists, many of us being musicians that performed at the parties held by those of the higher classes. We made enough for modest homes, and took care of relatively modest families. While it wasn't extravagant, it was comfortable. That was more than enough for me.

But that damned Cyrus, he just had to submit my name for The Selection. "You'll never know unless you try," he had insisted; although his plea came out more like a demand. That's the thing; I didn't want to try! I liked my life! I would surely meet a nice boy at some point and we'd settle down; I'd be a professional concert pianist and he would be something similar--maybe a wild-eyed painter or a sweet, but quiet, librarian. Cyrus hadn't wanted to take 'no' for an answer and submitted my name regardless, so here I was! My normally wild pixie cut bangs had been wrangled behind a ruby-encrusted headband. Yes, real ruby. I wore a blood-red floor-length cheongsam, gold-embroidered flowers made of real silk lining the edges. Sure, I had worn fine garments before, but only when I was performing at concerts!

The news of The Selection took the whole kingdom by surprise. The King and Queen of Illea, who were previously thought to be childless, announced that they had a secret baby they had not shared with the world prior. However, their child was now of age and the only one in line for the throne. Therefore, it was time for a royal engagement. Of course, not just anyone would do for the future ruler of Illea. Girls of age and from any class system were encouraged to apply for a process known as The Selection, where ladies who are deemed 'worthy' bust their asses trying to win the praise of a stuck-up, snobbish piece of royalty. Oh, sorry, am I getting off-track? Right, well, basically; there are 10 of us ladies that were ultimately picked to go forth in The Selection process. Out of hundreds of applications, we 10 were supposedly chosen at random. I would like to personally argue that the kingdom went out of its way to get rid of anyone below class 6, and that I was merely added in as a "mid-class" wildcard to make the process seem more fair. I didn't buy any of this for a second.

However, at the admonishing of my parents and best friend, I ultimately decided to do the stupid competition. I mean, I figure I could last a good week here? Maybe I won't even be the first to go; perhaps I'll be the second or third. Either way, I should enjoy the royal treatment while I'm here; I can dine on all the gourmet food and try on loads of pretty dresses as if I'm a child playing dress-up again. I made eye contact with another girl, I think her name was Buffy? Something like that. All I knew was that she's a class 8, a class of olympic athletes and models. She grinned at me wide, exposing two perfect and uncrooked rows of brilliant white teeth. I smiled back, maybe a little less than enthusiastic. I just wanted this week or two to be over already.

***

The Queen of Illea's mistress, Faye, clapped her hands brightly as she entered the powder room. All of the ladies, myself included, turned to stare and curtsey. She smiled warmly. "Ladies, you all look so elegant." She eyed me up and down, finally giving an approving nod. It's true I had done something a bit different with the cheongsam, embracing my Chinese heritage. Every other girl in the room looked like she just stepped out of a fairytale--from the soles of their glass slippers to the sparkly jewels adoring their tiaras. Faye didn't seem to look at me with disdain, though.

"It is finally time to meet The Royal Highness, the secret child of King and Queen Jules and Clarissa of Illea. I know the whole world has been waiting a long time."

The girls all gasped in unison, minus myself. It seemed I was the only one not too impressed with the whole concept of a 'secret baby'. I just wanted to meet him and get it over with already. Faye announced we would all be meeting over a supper of bread bowls and ten-vegetable soup, to celebrate the season's bountiful Autumn harvest.

Faye led us through a long corridor in a straight line, myself at the very front, explaining the rules as we walked. Be sure to make eye contact with all members in the dining room, remember to curtsey, don't fix hair at the table, don't sneak flirtatious glances with The Royal Highness, etc etc, blah blah blah.

We finally stopped at a set of beautiful navy French doors, ornamented with stained glass and golden handles. Faye took a deep breath and told the ladies to enter one by one, curtsey to all members of the party, and then take a seat. The two seats on each side of The Royal Highness were reserved for the King and Queen, of course. She wished us all luck one final time before the competition officially began and rapped on the doors, giving me a wink before retiring to the end of the line. The doors swung open in response, and I robotically walked in as I was told to.

Except when I approached the seat at the head of the table, it wasn't a royal prince I saw at all. It was a woman, with long locks of golden honey and dazzling blue eyes that would shame the ocean itself. She wore a long emerald green robe and a fur stole. Her fingers were covered in a multitude of different jewels, emerald and ruby and diamond and sapphire. She wore a crown atop her head, and I knew. She was The Royal Highness. She was the Princess--soon to be Queen--of Illea. And she was the person I was supposed to romance. I curtsied, feeling my posture falter a bit.

"Miss...Andi, is it? From class 5?" The princess spoke, her voice somewhat quiet and yet demanding. I nodded, curtseying once more for good measure. "I'm Princess Amber of Illea, it's enchanting to meet you."

***