The Selection (Troyler AU)

♔Part XLIII♔

Yeah okay so I'm past the point of the story where I had a concrete plan, so now, I'm just going to hope for the best and kinda make it up as I go. So, naturally, abrupt POV change because I have no control and I'm 100% procrastinating the conversation coming up between Tyler and Troye.

Also this story is about to hit 100k reads holy hell.

Also sorry for the wait lol I ended up writing a 10k monstrosity of a one-shot that was actually 400 more words than Sober (go check both out if you haven't) and then I ended up having a dry spell like I always do after writing an oversized one-shot so yano.

Several Hours Earlier

Dan POV

After escaping the Palace undetected and making the hour-long trek through the desolate area surrounding the perimeter, I finally arrived at at the all-too-familiar alcove, that dutifully concealed a direct entrance to our base, the events of the night running through my mind at an uncontrollably fast pace.  So much had happened tonight, and I honestly had no clue how I'd be able to sum it all up for Phil - who would want to know every last detail of the ball - let alone the entirety of the rebels.  Some things went exactly as we'd expected, some spun out of proportion but weren't completely unprecedented, and some. . .I would never have dreamt of happening in a million years.

Thankfully, Queen Grace's entrance went accordingly.  Earlier in the evening, when I'd managed to get away from the clamor of the ball preparations, I delivered twenty-seven letters - one to each of the remaining Selected, and one to Queen Grace herself.  Of course, at the time I'd slid them under their doors, the girls were out eating lunch; their respective Maids would've picked up the letters, and most likely left them on a dresser, only to be forgotten in the midst of getting ready for the dance. 

Queen Grace, however, was in her room at the time of the delivery.  And to my knowledge, there were no Guards stationed inside, leaving no chance for wandering eyes to be peering over her shoulder at the contents of the letter.

They all held the same thing.  Not too little, not too much, but just enough to get a message across.

An offer.

The offer was simple: if you were considering joining the rebels - the northern, more mild, rebels, that is - and wanted to hear our goals were, you were to wear at least one noticeable purple article of clothing the day after the Queen's ball, and someone on the inside would escort you to the base to see what our leader had to say.  It wasn't demanding, and if anyone wanted to decline the offer, then there were no hard feelings.  It was their choice, in the end.  But if they wanted to put a stop to the King's ruling, and end his reign for good, then it was in their best interest to at least give the idea some thought.

Grace, however, decided to send her message out early.  A big one, too.

After the initial shock of her arrival, while she and Prince Tyler politely greeted each other, she caught my eye - which, admittedly, wasn't that hard, since that I'd been staring at her for at least five minutes by the time she acknowledged me - and froze, probably recognizing the fact that I was a rebel.  She'd made a hasty excuse to a puzzled Tyler, then quietly made her way to one of the exits, shooting me a look and nudging her head for me to follow her.

༄♔༄♔༄♔༄♔༄♔༄♔༄♔༄♔༄♔༄♔༄♔༄♔༄

I ended up following her all the way to the Courtyard, making sure to stay a safe distance from her incase a Guard walked by, but close enough that I wouldn't lose sight of her. Granted, she didn't move very quickly, not while she was wearing a floor-length gown and Gods-know-how-tall high heels, but I had a feeling she slowed down nonetheless to let me trail her.