Compassion (A Selection Story)

Book One - Compassion - Fleur

Hello! This story is based off of the amazing Selection Trilogy by Kiera Cass,  I recommend reading it before reading this, but it is not entirely necessary.  No copyright infringement intended, this story is of my own creation, all that other legal stuff.

Eight Castes.

Seven Corpses.

Six Secrets.

Five Loves.

Four Attacks.

Three Finalists.

Two Royals.

One Competition of a Lifetime.

Competing for the love of a prince in a glorious palace seems wonderful to most of the Daughters of Illéa.  When they signed up, they expected extravagant gowns, meals, and to be spoiled beyond belief.

What they are really walking into is a dangerous game of secrets, lust, seduction and death. And perhaps only the innocent will win.

This is The Selection.

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For a moment, everything stands still. Sometimes this happens in the sweltering heat, time seems to freeze as everyone stops their labor to shield or fan themselves from the onslaught of heat when the sun's cloud cover gives way and the rays break through. I, unlike most here, am smart. As I work, I dig myself a cave to hide in. Sure, my body heat is trapped against me, but I am in the shade.

We don't wear any of the stuff that supposedly reflects heat here, we wear what we can get. No hats or rags to protect our ever-turned-up-necks from the sun. We come home sunburned, and go to sleep on a lumpy, thin mattress, if even that. My brother and I sleep on the floor.

Ditch digging isn't exactly a dream job, but it's work. And the only way to survive in Caste Seven is to work or steal- not that most people don't do both, but stealing alone will not get you through the week. We are the lowest of the high, in a sense. The only people below us are Caste Eight, and I'm not quite sure anyone considers them a real part of society.

While girls in the upper castes dream of competing in The Selection for the prince, the girls here mostly dream of marrying a Five or a Six, just to get out of here. The others dream of food. I dream of neither of these things. My only wish is to go where I can be truly useful. Caste Three. It's a wild dream I realize will never happen, but I still wish with every shovel full of dirt that I was learning and teaching and reading.

When my shift is done, I drag my shovel behind me as I trek up the steep ditch sides and to my house. Entering where there should be a front door (but instead we've hung a broken set of window blinds that my dad found in the trash heaps) I let my shovel clang to the floor, and I walk to my shared room with my little brother, Kai. Mustering energy and strength from the last of my reserves, I sneak up behind him, reaching under his arms and hoisting him into the air. "He-hay!" I shout, dangling him there for a moment before settling him down in the crook of my arm, so he sits on my hip. "How's my buddy?"

Kai is six years old. Much too young to start working. Plus, he was born before he was supposed to be, and has been weak his whole life. He's one of my only friends, nowadays, and I cherish every moment between us because I know that when the food starts to run out, he will be the first to die.

My mother shouts my name from the main room. The main room is also the kitchen, the dining room, and my parents' bedroom, since it is the only other room in the house. I walk from the bedroom to the main room, Kai still balanced on my hip, when my mother takes one look at me and says "I called for you, not the scrawny little chicken."

I sigh, and turn around, setting down Kai in our room, and walk over to my mother. She stands with a frightening grin on her face, and I begin to worry, since my parents have become a bit feral as the money disappears.  She holds out a piece of paper. Clean, crisp, white paper. It is, without a doubt, the cleanest thing in the house. I take it from her, my eyes widening when I see what it is. The Selection letter.

The prince is ready to find a wife in the most demeaning way conceivable.