The Elite ✓

six | defensive manner

Illean etiquette evokes class and power.

This is not to be mistaken for dramatic pleas, and public speeches. Etiquette in the Royal Illean terms is defined as the precedent, or, baseline for negotiations, appearances, alliances and the sole importance of the survival of this country. As a precursory warning, failure of acquiescing may result in the disqualification in The Selection.

The scripture reads "To nisu pravila. To su zakoni." In translation: These are not just rules. These are laws.

Let us begin,

Many believe that politeness is but a mask worn in the world to conceal bad passions and impulses, and to make a show of possessing virtues not really existing in the heart; thus, that politeness is merely hypocrisy and dissimulation. Do not believe this; be certain that those who profess such a doctrine are practising themselves the deceit they condemn so much. Such people scout politeness, because, to be truly a lady, one must carry the principles into every circumstance of life, into the family circle, the most intimate friendship, and never forget to extend the gentle courtesies of life to everyone. This they find too much trouble, and so deride the idea of being polite and call it deceitfulness.

True politeness is the language of a good heart, and those possessing that heart will never, under any circumstances, be rude. They may not enter a crowded saloon gracefully; they may be entirely ignorant of the forms of good society; they may be awkward at table, ungrammatical in speech; but they will never be heard speaking so as to wound the feelings of another; they will never be seen making others uncomfortable by seeking solely for their own personal convenience; they will always endeavour to set everyone around them at ease; they will be self-sacrificing, friendly, unselfish; truly in word and deed, polite. Give to such a woman the knowledge of the forms and customs of society, teach her how best to show the gentle courtesies of life, and you have a lady, created by God, only indebted for the outward polish to the world.

prologue

illéan royal etiquette booklet

*

The palace can be many things, but for one, it's view is incomparable to any other, and though I'm not giving my full attention to the serendipity, specifically because of the Etiquette booklet resting on my lap, I'm still able to grasp the tranquil environment.

As the wind blows against my figure, allowing my mane of hair to fly freely, it fills my lungs, leaving me grasping for more. And after a while, my breathing goes steady but my eyes stare into the distance. My mind wonders what goes on past the skyline.

I'm sitting peacefully in the garden, recollecting my thoughts, but just as I'm convinced that the entire palace is asleep beside Niklas, who I convinced to let me out at this early hour, a figure disrupts my solitude and choose to take the empty space on the bench next to mine.

It's none other than Will.

Instinctively, I shriek at the top of my lungs but he clasps his hand over my mouth in an attempt at stopping me from waking the entire palace up. From the corner of my eye, I notice that he's smiling at me.

"What?" I ask.

He pauses, leaving a void of cold, distant air between us, and suddenly, my hands tear me away from him and wrap around the circumference of my body. I find myself stepping back in a defensive manner. 

We haven't spoken in a while.

"How's it going, Princess." I notice how his face hardens while speaking to me; If anything, he's bitter and for a reason that I'm perfectly aware of.

I take another step back, wincing every time his fist clenches. "Will.." I drawl on, hoping that it's Niklas' turn to round the corner, or perhaps Rapunzel would magically appear to help me escape. All around us is tension. "I-"

"You chose him, didn't you?" He roars, and I wonder what's become of his smile, "You chose the heir. The money. The crown. The Princess."

"That's absurd!" I yell back, "If you haven't noticed, this is his selection. If he chose me to stay, then he chooses me to stay. And that's that."

Will's blue orbs burn into mine, "Then run away with me," he pauses, "Once and for all." His muscular arms attempt at enclosing me in a hug, but I slip out of his grasp, turn away, and never looked back. "Run away with me, Princess."

"We'll be happy. Free."

From a distance, I can hear him yelling my name, asking me to talk, but I can't help myself. The tears flowing from my eyes: I don't know, alright. I don't know.

Tears fill my eyes.

Niklas staggers backwards when I reach to hug him, but motions for me to take a seat next to him when he notices my state. Droplets pour out of my eyes like a never-ending river, and I notice that this indecisive ability of mine has got long. 

If I balanced both on either side of a pole, there's always that chance it'll all tip over and I'll lose both.

I chose Will once, and I would choose him over and over again if it wasn't for these circumstances, and Lucas, Lucas was sweet. He was charming. But he was King, and that wasn't for me.

"Holly," Niklas says softly from next to me. He's standing by his post, and I'm sitting on the ground, mascara drilling from my eyes. I'm a mess, and the sun is only rising. I nod whilst readjusting the hem of my dress. The royal life banks of appearances and presentation, and I'm not about to be the one to destroy that.

"Thanks, Niklas." I smile through my clown-like appearance. "Really." But while I reapply a darker shade of lipstick and a heavier layer of concealer to mask all my flaws as they are, I ask myself, why am I trying so hard to be a part of a competition I never really cared about. And it's certainly not my competitive nature.

I want to stay, but I don't know why. For who?

On the way back to my quarters, Lucas catches me, pulling me playfully by the arm. But the thought lingers in my mind as he gives me a confident smile. "Well, come on!"

His route is almost familiar by now, and I'm left in confusion. Nevertheless, I give him a grin, "It's a great surprise, really. But I'm afraid you've already shown me to the royal music room." I smile, "The key, included." I dangle the gold chain before his eyes in confusion to his excitement.

He only shakes his head, fingers entwining with mine. "No, silly."

I follow him wordlessly before he speaks again. The room is exactly the same as I last saw it; A grand piano in the center, the main attraction, and all other instruments surrounding it. I'm still baffled myself, but Lucas ignores the centerpiece completely and makes a beeline for the curtains. In one swift motion, he pulls open the blinds to reveal a picturesque view. 

It's gorgeous. Breathtaking.

I'm unsure of what to say, "Lucas, w-wow."

He smiles.

The rest of the day is spent in utmost banter, and I find myself questioning how I'm able to tolerate this unmistakable joker who is almost the opposite of what the media portray him to be. 

Within seconds, he's found my ticklish spot, and we continue to laugh at one another. Night falls quickly and neither of us is aware of how time had passed so quickly. Nevertheless, I fall asleep in his arms and he tightens his comforting embrace against me.

The brothers have different ways of showing care. Polar opposite ways.

Wrapped in Lucas' arms, I gaze into the dim skies and I see a Will. His shoulders are slumped, and his head is buried deep in his hands, and I fight the urge to comfort him. 

Is it possible to fall in love with two people?

I shake my head, that's impossible. The hopeless romantic within me decides that a heart can only belong to a person, it can only intertwine once to make a whole. I shake my head in defeat.

The rebels arrive. Screams marking their entrance. 

Will is outdoors.