Compassion (A Selection Story)

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"Oh." The first woman to get her hands on me says that one word with layers of disappointment in her voice. She grumbles under her breath, "Sure. Stick me with the challenge."

I sigh, this would not be fun. First, I am bathed again, this time in a real bathtub, with fancy soaps and scrubs. My skin feels raw once they finish scrubbing away dirt that I'd always assumed was just my skin being tan. I am taken to another station, where I sit in the unnervingly comfortable robe. I am being pampered while my brother is being tortured. At least five people run their fingers through my hair, murmuring about how poorly cared for it is. My hair, which used to hang down around my thighs, is cut to fall to the small of my back. Luckily, the stylists and maids all comply with my requests to not "mess me up with fake things and chemicals".

I refuse makeup, but they ignore this request, and cover my face with a layer of powders and creams. Dark shadow is spead around my eyes, giving me a sultry, sexy look which they complete with a coat of deep red lipstick. I look at my reflection with digust- this is not me.

We are all fitted in similar "day dresses", which land just around our knees. I roll my eyes. We really can't wear pants? I reach for a neutral, brown one with curving neckline- just innocent enough for me- when the makeup artist swats my hand away. "No, no. You need this." He pulls out a sparkling black one, with a deep V-neckline. A maid assists me in pulling it on, pinning a name pin to the dress, and I turn to look in a full length mirror.

I look ridiculous. They did something to my hair, and it sort of stands up toward the roots, making it look bigger. I attempt to pat it down, but realize that might be how it's supposed to look. I pass it off to anyone who's watching as me running my fingers through my now-soft hair.

A woman with a camera comes up to me, and asks my name. When I reply, she raises her eyebrows. "Oh, I must get this! The poor, dirty Seven transformed into a sexy princess." She takes film of me as she asks questions.

"Were you surprised when you were chosen?"

"Somewhat, my mother was pretty confident in me, and I've learned to trust her."

"How do you feel about your new look?"

I open my mouth to say that it is horrible, that it embodies everything I am not, when I see the team of stylists standing nearby. Unable to bring myself to put them down, I smile, and lie through my teeth. "Oh, I love it! These people are so talented!"

Before she gets a chance to ask me another question, the lady who seems to be in charge of us calls for everyone to assemble by the doors. I begin to run toward her when a maid taps me on the shoulder and hands me a pair of red heels that force my the tops of my feet to align with my legs. I guess princesses dont get to wear comfortable boots.

"My name is Violet, and I will be teaching you in the arts of etiquette, poise, and diplomacy. Now, today we will be having a lesson at dinnertime, which is in an hour. You are prohibited from the third floor, and your rooms are on the second. Run along now, and be at the Great Room in an hour. That's the room we passed on our way.

"The Great Room is essentially the divider of the north and south sides of the palace. There are three entrances, one to the north, one to the south, and one to the east, which leads to the garden."

We all make our way to our rooms, heading up the grand, marble staircase to a long hall with doors lining one side. My name is on a door fairly close to the center, and I enter. To my dismay, three maids rise and curtsy to me. I sigh, and tell them to leave. They shift around uneasily, and only leave once I yell at them to leave me alone.

Sinking down into a chair, I put one hand to my forehead, my thumb and middle finger resting against my temples. I reach down and take off the heels, relieved to be on flat ground again. Too tired to do anything else, I nod off to sleep.

I am awakened by one of my maids shaking my shoulder. "It's time for dinner, Lady Fleur."

"Ugh," I grunt, pushing myself up and locating the death trap that everyone insists are shoes. My makeup has smeared during my sleep, and the maid helps me remove the smudges and prepares to touch up the messy parts. "No. Just take off all the makeup," I say, grabbing one of the remover wipes for myself. It takes five minutes to get all of it off, and another five for me to slide a brush through my hair and change my dress. The other choices had been delivered, and I put on my first choice, the brown dress.

I can tell the maids are skeptical of my choice, as brown is a commoner's color, but I simply shrug. Brown reminds me of home. Brown is Kai's favorite color. They hand me brown, flat shoes to go with it, and I put them on. They aren't boots, but at least they aren't heels.

I am almost late to the Great Room. If I had taken the time to put on different makeup, I would easily be late. I slide into the only empty seat, and find myself between Rain Christianson, a Five, and Leanne, the Two. Both look at me with disdain.

Violet begins teaching us the different utensils and how to use them. Leanne and many of the other upper-caste girls look bored, but I am grateful for the lesson. For without it, I'd make a fool of myself. She then goes through the proper ways to address the different people we will meet, and that we absolutely must sit and stand straight.

The food arrives, and I realize that everything is rich and succulent, far better than I'm used to. I pull a few small servings of small, simple things, like blackberries and nuts onto my plate. I barely eat any of it, and why should I? The first check my family recieved will have been spent extravagantly on food and clothes for my parents. Kai, in the time since I left, has probably had one, tiny nut, if anything at all. I deserve none of this. He is a kid, and deserves care and nurturing.

No one seems to notice that I barely eat, and we are sent to go either to our rooms or the Women's Room after we finish eating. I leave with the first group of girls, and no one notices me at all. I decide that I do not want to go and chat with the others about how dreamy the prince is, nor do I want to be ambushed by my maids. I pass the entrance to the Women's Room and walk down the maze of halls, remembering my turns so I can find my way back. Absentmindedly, I climb up some stairs and wander around this floor for a bit.

As I turn a corner, I get a familiar feeling in my head. A lightheaded, dizzy feeling fills me before darkness blocks my vision.