The Selected | ✓

Chapter 7

"What do you do?" He asks quietly.

Before I can answer, there's a voice. "Sorry to interrupt, but you have to deal with me now."

I look up and see the owner of the voice smiling down at me. "Come on, I don't bite."

I smile and stand. I take Prince Alexander's arm, and with a small smile at Mason, I let him lead me to the other side of the room.

Alexander says nothing until we're seated. Mason talks to the others so that we're not the center of attention—thank God for that. I don't think I could stand having the other girls watch me.

The prince's eyes take in my outfit quietly. "You're not dressed like the others."

I tilt my head to the side. "I'm sorry?"

He shrugs. "Usually girls would go for the most extravagant things possible, but you're wearing something simple."

I roll my eyes. "I may be an Eight, Your Highness, but I can assure you that I am not one to go for whatever I can get my hands on."

One corner of his mouth tilts up, but the smile is gone before I can register that it was there. "You seem...down to earth. More so than the others."

I sit up straighter. "Going to sleep on park benches tends to do that."

He tries to determine if I'm joking or not. "Are you always pessimistic?"

I shake my head. "No. Just realistic."

His eyes move over me again. His gaze is all calculation, no lust or anything that one might expect. "The other girls have believed that what I want is physical. You can tell. Except for that one girl—what's her name again? The girl in the blue."

There are about three of them. "Aquia?" I ask.

He nods. "Yes. Her. She acts like a lady, actually. I was surprised, even though she's a Three."

I look at my legs, which are crossed at the ankle. "Castes don't matter, do they? It only matters who you are, though most people wouldn't understand that."

"Perceptive is one thing my brother didn't describe you as."

I look up at him. He's taller than me by several inches. "Prince Mason talked about me?"

He nods. "To me and Clara. I think your name is the only one that he could remember. Clara had them all memorized, though she told us that if you don't at least make it to an Elite she will kill us."

I laugh. "And why is that?"

He shrugs. "Truthfully, I have no idea. Women are an alien race to me."

I half-smile. "So let me get this straight—you, the oldest prince, can easily understand any war tactic or politic strategy, but are confused by women?"

"Completely confused! You're like time bombs sometimes, I swear!"

I feel myself smile even wider. "We aren't that bad."

He leans forward, raising an eyebrow at me. "Oh? I beg to differ."

"You're a boy. Of course you would say that."

"So we're going to be sexist now, are we?" He shakes his head. "You're going to be a handful, Lady Cassiana. I can see it already."

Mason walks over to us. "Time is up, you two." Alexander takes my hand, bows, and kisses my knuckles. I curtsy, and turn to leave.

Alexander stands next to Mason and slightly behind, with his arms folded behind his back. He and Mason talk quietly for a moment, and then turn back towards us. "If either of us have asked you to stay, please remain in your seats. If we have not, please go ahead into the dining hall. We will join you shortly."

Asked to stay? I think back to my conversation with Mason, which is hard since my insides are screwed up after my talk with Alexander.

No, I was not asked to stay. I wonder if that's good.

Aquia rises next to me, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

Ten girls stay seated—Mariah, who wore the orange; McKenize, the girl in yellow; Hope and Ariella, who also wore blue; Brienne, the girl in all red; Rina, Sera, and Lika, the girls that wore dark green; Allee, who wore brown; and Noelle, who's outfit is literally every color in the rainbow. They all look excited, as if it's an honor.

Aquia leans close to me. "They're sending them home."

"What?" How can the princes make judgments so quickly?

Aquia nods. She looks as if she wishes she were one of them. "They always send at least two home after the first meeting." She smiles then. "You and Prince Alexander talked longer than anyone else. You and Prince Mason, too."

I roll my eyes. "I was the last girl. I guess so."

She shakes her head. "The way Prince Mason looked at you..." she sighs dreamily. I nudge her with my elbow.

More camera crews greet us in the dining room. King Ansen and Queen Livia sit talking quietly. The young princess, Clara, sits up straight in her seat, hands folded in her lap. Her fair skin looks pale from makeup, and her dark lips are shut.

The princess looks up and smiles. When she sees me, her smile widens a fraction of an inch, and her eyes shimmer.

She looks like Alexander. But her personality, I can tell, is closer to Mason's. Clara sits to the right of the king and the queen, one seat over. I can tell that this seat will be for Mason, and that Alexander will sit on the left.

Clara gestures for me to sit next to her.

We follow the whole curtsy-and-sit-when-addressed routine. I hesitantly sit in the chair, and the king and the queen smile at me warmly. Clara beams up at me. "Hello, Cassiana. I've been dying to meet you." She extends her hand. "I am Clara. Don't bother calling me 'princess' or 'Your Highness', those titles bore me to death, and I can tell we'll be fast friends. Also, don't bother with formalities. I hate those too."

I smile at the princess. "Well, Clara. It's nice to meet you." I shake her hand.

"Bienvenue. Comment vas-tu?" Her French is perfect.

"Je suis bien, comment vas-tu?"

She smiles. "Très bien." We talk a few more minutes, and she makes jokes about her brothers and some of the girls' dresses, which makes me laugh hard and try to force out a response between laughs.

We are served breakfast, which is pancakes. I've only had them at Tiffany's. The king blesses our food—my family has never been big on religion, so I have no idea what to do—and then we begin to eat. The princes enter moments later.

We all start to rise. "Please don't rise. You may continue eating." Mason says. He and Alexander both kiss Clara and their mother on the cheek, and Alexander nods towards his father as he goes to his seat. Mason smiles and leans around Clara. "So I see you have met my sister."

I nod. "Yes, I have."

Clara smiles. "She's nice, Mason. Very well mannered."

He nods and looks at me. "I know."

I glance over and see Alexander's eyes flicking back and forth between us.

Clara looks up at me and then at Alexander. "See, Alex—I told you she would be nice."