The Selection ✓

twelve - america

Every so often, a girl can get accustomed to one particular thing in their life that they begin to take it and turn it into a recurring event because of the fact that they simply needed more nostalgia.

Mine was the peace and serenity offered by the closed and solitude-like surroundings of the Women's room. A place I previously liked to avoid.

The one room where I could forget about the competition at its core. While it also came with a great company, I began to slowly adapt to the lifestyle. One that included several visits to the room to keep my dear head sane.

Denise caught up with me, "It clears your mind, doesn't it." she was referring to the room I happened to be halfway through. 

"It does." I nodded guiltily, "Plus, not even Sarah can destroy it's power."

"I'll give it that. The truest statement that has ever existed." We shared a short laugh, before I turned to enter.

"You should join us for meals, sometime. Even Prince Lucas has begun to notice your sudden disappearance." her laugh was empty, one that suggested that she was exhausted. Poor girl. "You're holed up in here too often."

I offered a smile, "I will, thank you. Care to join me on my hedonistic escapade?"

"Not today, unfortunately. Next time though, I will."

***

An hour and a half into my relaxing, and undisturbed stay at the Women's room, and my only company is the Queen, which I am strangely thankful for. Unlike the other girls, she can participate in small talk, have a few laughs, but in the end, she'll leave you in peace.

"I take it that you're liking this place?" She grins from behind her magazine, the full red curls cascading down her elegant body, framing her more pale-like appearance. It was almost like she had walked out of the Vogue.

I laughed, "Us both, you're majesty."

"Call me America. After all, staying in this confined space as practically bonded us together."

I gasped, did I just get the priveledge of advancing to the first name basis with the Queen? Wow, this room really did work wonders. "U-uh,"

A maid had entered the room to brush her silky red hair, as I watched in awe. How could one carry this much poise, much like how she had probably said when she watched King Maxon's mother at the women's room. "Oh, relax, dear. I know how terrifying it is to talk to the Queen. Please, we've all been through this. It's why the room exists in the first place." she gave me a wink, "To escape from the men."

That's when I burst into laughter, "I shouldn't really be one to say that I'm avoiding your son, in a competition for your son's heart."

She put her magazine down, "You are by far the most interesting one of the lot, I'll give you that." she grinned, "By the way, I heard through one of my maid's that the newest gossip was both my sons fighting for you. Entertain me."

My face morphed into pure terror. "U-um, well,"

"Honey," she grinned, "I want the gossip. Who are you choosing."

"I-it's really not my place t-to,"

"Wow, so tense. What did I say about relaxing despite my presence. I was a girl like you once, I know the shiver. By the way, I didn't really expect an answer."

I shook my head, "Okay, you got me, you're majesty." 

"America." she corrected, in excellent poise. I felt like the Queen and I were becoming friends. It was definitely strange, she was more welcoming than some of the girls here. Actually, that wasn't very surprising, a Queen was supposed to be perfect, she fit the category well. It was an honor to be in her presence.

A maid came in, leaning over to whisper so that only America could here her. It still felt strange referring to the most powerful lady in Illea by her first name. "Of course."

She had allowed for a male to enter the Women's room. His identity was revealed to be, the one and only Lucas.

"Mother," He bowed, "Lady Holly."

"Yes, Lucas?" She asked, her face remained composed.

"I believe Lady Holly owes me a date at the palace rooftop." He offered me his hand.

I gave a him a small smile, "Of course." I took his hand, to which he begun to lead me out. But as I began to make my way out, tugging slightly at my gown so it wouldn't get caught up by the tip of my heel, she gave me a slight wink.

"I'm not supposed to be biased," she whispered, "But I'm rooting for you."