His Choice (The Selection)

Chapter Twenty

I sit in the women's room by myself, an angry aura around me. The whole ring thing might have happened two days ago, but I am still pretty mad. It's just the question of who am I mad at? I obviously am mad at Bexley. She's the one who stole the freaking ring, but she wasn't the one of dismissed it.

I believe I am more upset at Charles. Seriously, he's an idget. Yesterday I ditched him and went to the dance studio with Abigail. I told her some minor details and those were her exact words.

I think I have been forced to admit that she is a small miracle in this hellhole. Yesterday during the very much super fun edition of The Report-note the sarcasm-she helped remind me that I needed to keep a bright face and not drill a hole through the back of Bexley's head.

A maid walking over to me snaps me out of my trance. "Lady Ember?" she asks. I blink a few times and nod.

"That would be me. What is it?" I ask, afraid something has gone wrong. She hands me a note. I take it and look down at an unfamiliar script.

"It's from Prince Charles," she explains before walking away. Once she is out of sight, I look down and read it.

Ember, I hope you aren't mad at me. I just based my decision on the evidence in front of me. I miss my work out buddy. See you at noon?

I roll my eyes as I stand up and walk over to a small trash can in the corner. I throw away the paper and walk out of the women's room, hoping it might give the others the idea that I am not avoiding the prince. Seriously, how many others would steal my ring just because I have spent enough with the prince to have a reason to avoid him?

When I get out into the hallway, I am not really sure where I am going, and figuring I would look pretty stupid to walk back inside the Women's room, I can't go back inside. I walk down the hallway towards an unknown destination.

I round a few corners, all of which led to a hallway with libraries and parlors branching off. It really makes you wonder why so many of these rooms are needed. Especially for such a small royal family. How rooms full of red and blue couches do they need?

I guess I can admit that if I were as wealthy as them, though, I would have a room with light pink floral couches that were used about once every five years. I guess I can also admit that we have a few rooms like that at my own house.

Finally, I return to the hallway where the women's room is located. I look over at the large grandfather clock one side of the hallway. It tells me that it has been about 30 minutes since I left the room so I suppose it would be okay for me return.

As I approach the room, I see a figure sitting outside the door. Scared it was Prince Charles I almost turn around, but the figure had long red hair. I walk forward, keeping my head up, not sure who was sitting outside the room.

When I get closer, I realize that it is Queen Celia. When she sees me, she gives me a small smile and stands up. "Hello, Lady Ember," she says. I glance out of the side of my eyes, figuring she was talking to some imaginary, third person who has the same name as me. She keeps her eyes on me, though.

"Uh. . . Hi," I say as I quickly remember to curtsy. Her eyes flicker over to some guards standing along the edge of the hallway then at a door a little further down.

"Do you think it would be possible if we could have a real quick conversation?" she asks. I nod and try to keep my face as emotionless as possible. What could the queen possibly want with me?

"Of course," I tell her. She nods and leads the way to a room a little bit further down the hallway. She walks inside first and I follow her. She sits on a couch. I sit on an armchair in front of her. "What did you want to talk about?" I ask her. She crosses her ankles and stares me down. 

"I wanted to discuss the Bexley incident. . ." she says. I raise my eyebrows. I know that I probably have the same confused look on my face that I always have in science.

"What do you want to know about it? That jerk stole my ring and got away with it," I tell her. Queen Celia's eyebrows arch.

"So you have something against Charles's decision?" she asks. Without thinking, I nod.

"Of course I do! He practically said that she could do whatever she wanted and get away with it. It's stupid!" I say. She stares me over and stays silent. Her silence almost sends chills down my back.

"I would suggest you not say anything else about the situation. . . And if you knew what was good for you, you would let it go," she says. She stands up and turns to walk towards the door. My mouth falls open as I watch her.

"Excuse me?" I ask. She looks back at me and stares me down again. Something about her demeanor scares me. It reminds me of a mother lion about to pounce on the prey that threatens her children. . . Or the mother at the grocery store who gets mad when some old lady glares at her kids because the kids weren't behaving.

"I know you're type perfectly. I have gone through the selection myself and I know a lot about the female brain. . . And I'll make sure Charles know you are the one he needs to watch out for," she says before walking out the door and slamming it shut behind her.

I stare at the door as it slams shut behind her. What was that?

Oooooh... A new side of Celia. What was that about? I am sorry that this update is kind of boring. I actually kinda feel like all the recent updates have been somewhat boring. Yeah... Comment and vote, please! Your comments always bring smiles to my face.

Disclaimer: partylikeawordstar owns the selection... partylikeawordstar translates to Kiera Cass, btw.