Don't Run Away

Chapter 1.

 My legs burn as I push to the top of the hill, I like the pain, the pain distracts me. As I reach the top, l let my pace slow, and continue on my usual route. I run past open fields filled with cattle, and I wonder how it would feel to be one of them. No worries, no finely made letter sitting on their kitchen counter...

I increase my pace. I do not want to be thinking about that letter right now. The letter, the application for Stephan Normandy's Selection.

It seriously isn't that big of a deal, I mean yeah, it would be pretty cool if I got to go to the palace, eat fancy food, and try and win the prince's heart. But, my dream isn't anything near that.

I want to be a famous athlete. A Two. But I'm a Four. And now that I'm 17 years old, my parents have been bringing up the topic of marriage more, and more. They think I want to be some farmer's wife, and milk cows all day. My plan in life was to become an excellent runner, win one of the most important races, meet some decent guy (that just happens to be a 2), marry him, and then become a famous athlete! Boom. I'm a genius.

Yeah so, my life calendar is currently filled. I don't think I will have time to go to a Selection.

However, I know the money that I would earn from the Selection would be very beneficial to my parents... It's not like we're broke or anything, we have enough money to put food on the table and buy basic necessities, but it would be nice to spoil my parents. They work hard trying to keep our family farm in business. I'm not much help when it comes to farming, I usually start the task I'm supposed to do, but then get bored, and end up sneaking out to go on a run.

I run past a small pond and see the sunset reflected across the water. It's such a gorgeous sunset. Sunset... Dammit! I'm really gonna get it when I get home. My parents don't believe in my whole "All-Star Athlete" dream, so, they don't love when I miss chores to go on a run. But in my defense sometimes I finish them! They definitely won't be happy when I show up LATE for supper, and with none of my chores done. I do a complete U-Turn and sprint all the way home.

I get back to the farm just as the sun falls behind a small mountain in the distance. I run into the stable and use the nearest rag in a feeble attempt to wipe the sweat off me. I try to enter the house as quietly as I possibly can but miserably fail.

"Francesca."

Yeah, I'm in deep shit. I go by "Frankie" so you know they're pissed when my parents use my full name.

"Hey, guys..." I respond with a very obvious quiver in my voice.

"Frankie, we have talked about this. You can't just not do your housework. We need the extra help around the farm." My mom answers as calmly as she can.

I walk over to help my parents set the table.

"I know, and I promise it won't happen again, I just really needed to let off some steam."

"What could you possibly be irritated about? We live an effortless life if you ask me." My dad asks.

I accidentally steal a glance at the letter on the table, I look to the floor hoping my parents didn't notice.

My mother puts down the last plate,

"Oh yeah, the Selection application. I think it's a great opportunity for you, Frankie. You should think about signing up."

"Eh, I don't know Mom, I'm not really into the whole "Being a princess thing" I answer with a nervous laugh.

"Just sleep on it." She replies.

I sigh and finish setting the table.

Throughout dinner, I can't stop thinking about that stupid letter. Should I fill it out? I mean, what's the worst that could happen? And if I somehow do end up going to the palace, the money would be beneficial for my parents.

But if I go to the palace, I'll be known as a selected girl, not as an athlete. Last time I checked, pretty, pink, princess, don't run for fun. That zeros out any possibility of me signing those papers.

Also, at school, I heard rumors of girls having to get their photos taken when they go to turn in their applications. Apparently, the King and some of his close advisors sort through the piles of applications and pick out: the pretty girls, girls with foreign family trees, or girls with unique interests. So, that means I'm not going to the palace. I have a family tree full of farmers that have never left Illea, and my interests certainly aren't unique. And my looks are pretty average, I have curly blonde hair that can never be tamed, dull grey eyes, and a face full of freckles. It almost looks like someone splattered me with mud on my face.

You know what. Screw it. I'm not going to get picked anyways so I might as well fill out the application to make my mom happy, and so I can stop thinking about it.

Once I finish cleaning up the dinner table, I grab the letter on the counter and head up to my room. I can see my mother grinning out of the corner of my eye as I ascend the stairs.

My pillows fly as I flop down on my bed and tear open the envelope. Immediately I notice the beautiful cursive in which the letter is written. The letter states, "The recent census has confirmed that a single woman between the ages of sixteen and twenty currently resides in your home. We would like to make you aware of an upcoming opportunity to honor the great nation of Illea. Our beloved prince, Stephan Normandy is coming of age this month. As he ventures into this new part of his life, he hopes to move forward with a partner, to marry a true daughter of Illea. If your eligible daughter, sister, or charge is interested in possibly becoming the bride of Prince Stephan and the adored princess of Illea, please fill out the enclosed form and return it to your local Province Services Office. One woman from each province will be drawn at random to meet the prince. Participants will be housed at the lovely Illea Palace in Angeles for the duration of their stay. The families of each participant will be generously compensated for their service to the royal family."