The Prince or the Crown

chapter twelve

"Keala Meren of Aeqaea!" the TV host announced. Keala walked onto the raised platform of the palace theater in her dazzling dark silver dress, beaming at the imaginary audience as she waved and stopped in front of the camera. The rest of the cohort three girls stood in a line out of shot, waiting for their turn to introduce themselves to the world. "Keala, tell us about yourself!"

"Hello, everyone! My name is Keala and I am..."

My focus drifted off as I recited in my mind the exact words I was going to say. The instructions the vibrant TV host had given us were to include our name, position of status, and age. I repeated the stance in my mind three more times until I knew I had it memorized.

I took a step forward but suddenly felt a strange tug on my left stiletto boot. I looked behind me to find that the zipper of my shoe had gotten caught on one of the intricately woven curtains beside the theater. I took another step forward in an attempt to pull it loose, but that only yanked the zipper down my foot, completely taking away any support the brace inside it might've provided. I gritted my teeth as my ankle throbbed in pain.

"What did you do?" Charlotte whispered from behind me.

"My zipper's caught," I whispered back, trying to kneel down to untangle it without rolling my ankle. I looked up the line to see only two women standing in front of me.

"Sophia Weber of Germany!" the TV host announced, and the next woman strolled on stage. Now there was only one in front of me.

Shiit. Shit shit shit shit shit.
Charlotte kneeled down and carefully tried to untangle the zipper with her finger as I rested my weight on my right foot. I felt a tingling on the side of my neck and turned towards the chairs below the raised platform to see Yanae staring straight at me. If looks could kill, I'd be a pile of ashes.

"Taea Vem of Aeqaea!" the TV host announced, and suddenly I was the next in line.

Hurry, Charlotte... I thought to myself as she used her delicate nails to unwind the threads.

"Done," she whispered to me, and I pulled my foot free of the curtain, stepping onto the sharp pain. I bent down to zip it back up, when suddenly-

"Bella Adere of America!"

My head snapped up and I plastered a smile on my face, walking up the two steps while trying as hard as I could not to burst into tears.

I waved at the imaginary audience as I strolled in front of the camera, the side of my stiletto boot subtly hanging open. I tried to swallow my pain and draw in the most strength I had ever needed.

"So, Bella! How about you tell us a little bit about yourself?" the TV host asked. If he was aware of my shoe situation, he didn't show it.

"Hi, everyone! My name is Bella Adere, and my father is the-"

Suddenly, the entire platform started trembling, and it took me a moment to realize it wasn't from my own heartbeat. The delicate clinking of crystal on crystal and a glance out at the shaking chairs told me it definitely wasn't just me. I subconsciously took a step back onto my left foot, and my ankle twisted out of my stiletto. I stumbled to the ground, clutching my foot in pain. Looking up, I came face to face with the shiny black camera. Fear and embarrassment seized hold of my body, and I really hoped I hadn't just blushed.

Oh, shit.

"EARTHQUAKE!" somebody shouted. "EVERYONE EVACUATE OUTSIDE!"

I could've sworn the TV host was grinning in delight as he motioned for the cameraman to follow the crowd of women rushing towards the doors.