I run my palm over the beautiful dress that I wear. It's pink chiffon, with tiny pearls sewed into the bodice. It's probably the most gorgeous dress I've ever worn, all covered in pearls and lace and jewels. It reminds me of the prettiest cupcake in the bakery.
"Lattice!" I call. One of the maids, who has been ironing my nightgown, hurries through the door.
"Yes, your majesty?"
"Kriss, Lattice. Just Kriss."
"Yes, my Queen." I sigh. Lattice has never been able to just call my by my name.
"Queen Kriss, then, if you must. I really do tire of "Your Majesty" all the time."
She curtsies. "Yes, Your- Queen Kriss."
I nod. "Lattice, would you go and get the gowns for me again? The ones for the Selected?"
"Yes, Queen. Queen Kriss." She scampers off and I sigh.
I've reviewed the gowns maybe eight times, but I want to see them again. I know it may seem shallow, but I don't want anyone looking better than I do- especially not America Singer.
"Here they are, Queen." Lattice comes in with the gowns. "Shall we review them?"
"Yes, please."
The first is a pale pink, less intricate than my own, but still beautiful. "This is for?"
"Lady Natalie, Queen Kriss."
"Naturally." I laugh. "Yes, keep it."
The next one is a pure white. It's not very special in any way, but the skirt of the dress is light and it billows in the wind.
"I thought we said no dresses like this." I say, unnerved. "Who's it for?"
"Marlee Tames."
I relax. "Of course, of course." Marlee is very sweet, and very pretty, but she's also married.
Next, Lattice pulls out a bright red one. "Celeste?" I guess. She nods.
The next dress is a very unbecoming brown. The fabric is silk, but it doesn't look very expensive at all.
"And who is this one for?" I ask, though I know.
"Lady America Singer."
"Just America, Lattice." I say airily. "The selection is over and there's no need for 'lady.'"
She curtsies. "Of course, Madam."
I look at the mirror and see the clock in the background.
"Oh my, they'll be arriving soon. Just show me Elise's, Lattice, and we'll be okay."
Lattice pulls out a beautiful strapless burgundy gown. I clap. "It's beautiful, Lattice. Please take this rack down to the Ladies' room."
Lattice curtsies and leaves. I look at myself in the mirror and place a tiara atop my elaborate hairdo.
"Maxon married you." I say to my reflection. "He loves you more than anyone else.
I don't hate America, but I can't feel regret about what I did with the dress either. Truthfully, I know that Maxon loved her. And I also know that love never goes away.
I can't make Maxon not love her. But I can at least make him love me.
Because I love him more than anything else in the world.
I adjust my hair and walk downstairs to greet my guests.
YOU ARE READING
The Other Girl: A Selection Story
RandomThe King paces in his room. In his hand, he holds a picture. The girl in the picture is beautiful. She has long, glowing red hair, and a teasing smile on her face. Her name is America Singer and Maxon loves her more than anyone else in the world. Bu...
