Being Selected

Chapter 1

When they called my name, I wasn't even in the room. I had been in the backyard reading an old science textbook of my brother's when my mother came running out of the house. I couldn't understand a word she was saying, until I caught a piece of "you" and "Selection". At that moment my blood had run cold because I knew exactly what had happened. The Agency had come through. Somehow they had managed to rig the votes to get me into the palace. I was hoping they wouldn't have been so good, but I should have known not to doubt them. For as long as I had worked for the Agency, I knew they hated the royal family, but I had never been put on a Royal Mission. Most of my work involved looking through old reports and digging out information from the past, rather than obtaining information in the present. But when the Prince announced that he would be beginning his own Selection, the Agency scrambled to find the perfect person to infiltrate the castle, and get the information they wanted. Unfortunately I was the perfect candidate, seeing as how loyal to the Agency I was and how easily I could deceive the people closest to me. For the past four years my family believed I worked in a factory in south Waverly. Never had they followed me or asked me about worked, they just accepted it and moved on.

When the Boss had asked for a meeting, I assumed it was about a promotion in my department. What I didn't realize was that they had moved me to the front lines and had me entered into the Selection. I knew the chances of me being chosen were slim, but the Agency had more power than I realized, because here my mother was, telling me I had gotten in.

"Honey, you have no idea how excited I am for you! This is your chance to find someone special. I hadn't even realized you entered," my mother said, smiling.

"Yeah, a few friends and I had entered as a joke, but I never dreamed I would get chosen," I replied, as easily as I could.

"Well I want you to try your hardest anyways. Wait 'til your father gets home Lilian, he will be thrilled for you." I nodded, but my heart was no longer in it. My new mission meant I would have to come up with a plan. I needed to learn everything I could about the Prince.

"Mom, I'm feeling tired. I think it's from all the time spent at work. Would you mind if I went to bed early?" I asked, putting as much exhaustion in my voice as possible.

"Of course. Anything for my future Queen," mom said, bowing in a teasing way. I gave her a sarcastic smile before rushing up the stairs. I turned off the lights and flipped on my flashlight. I opened my closet and began searching the shelves. I pushed though shoe boxes until I found the pile of school books I had shoved to the back. I dug through them until I found what I was looking for. The book students were given once they reached secondary school, A Brief History of Illea. I ran my fingers across the cursive title. My father had taught me cursive as soon as I learned to write, because he believed that it is a gift every person has, but society has chosen to ignore. I had picked it up quickly and it was what I used in all my writing. Everyone at school had complained about not being able to read my writing, but I didn't care. I thought it made me look royal.

I shook my head. I would not be royal. I had a mission to do, and that was all I was going to the castle to do. I made my way through the dark and onto my bed. I began reading each page carefully, storing every detail into my brain. I read all the way through the birth of Prince Weston before my eyes grew too heavy to keep open. I fell asleep dreaming about the royal families.

As I dreamt I saw the faces of people from my book. I saw a large temper and an abusive streak with a too devoted wife. I saw another king hidden behind a camera, a flash warming the skin of a red haired women with a large belly. She gazed lovingly down at it, a smile of content glued to her lips. The scene shifted to a man reading poetry to a happy queen as they had lunch at a French café. A queen with blonde hair on her death bed, as a loving king watched her pass. A newborn prince in the arms of a dark haired woman who was singing in the a language I didn't understand.