imperfect fit ; an everlark au based off of 'the selection' series

f o u r t e e n

As I had predicted, the girls who asked to leave changed their minds once everything had settled down. None of us know who had wanted out, but there were some- Glimmer in particular- who are determined to find out. For the time being though, we remain as nineteen girls.

The attack was inconsequential, according the the king, that it barely warranted notice. However, since camera crews had been make their way in this morning, some of it was aired live. Apparently, the king isn't too pleased about that. It makes me wonder how many attacks the palace has had that weren't ever heard about. Is this place a lot less safe then they make it out to be?

Effie explains that if the attack had been much worse, we would've been able to call our families and tell them we are safe. As it was, we were instructed to write letters home instead.

I write that I'm well and that the attack probably seems worse than it was and that the king had us kept safely tucked away. I urge them not worry about me and tell them that I miss them and hand the letter off to a helpful maid.

The day after the attack passes without incident. I was planning on going down to the Women's Room to talk up Peeta to the others, but after seeing Annie so shaken, I choose to keep to my room.

I don't know what my three maids busy themselves with when I'm away, but when I'm in the room, they play card games with me and let pieces of gossip slip into the conversation.

I learn that for every dozen of people I see in the palace, there are a hundred more behind them. The cooks and laundresses I knew about, but there are also people whose sole job is to keep the windows clean. It takes a solid week for the team to get them all done, by the end of which dust would find its way past the palace walls and cling to the clean glass, and they'd have to be washed all over again. There are also jewelers hidden away, making pieces for the family gifts and for visitors, and teams of seamstresses and buyers keeping the royal family- and now us- immaculately clothed.

I learn other things, too. The guards they think are the cutest and the horrid new design of a dress the head maid was making staff wear for the holiday parties. How some in the palace are taking bets on which Selected girl might win and that I'm in the top ten picks. A baby of one of the cooks was sick beyond hope, which makes Tig tear up a bit. The girl happened to be a close friend of hers, and the couple had been waiting so long for a child.

Listening to them and joining in when I had something worth saying. I can't imagine anything more entertaining happening downstairs and I'm glad to have such company. The mood in my room is a quiet and happy one.

The day had been so nice, I stay up there the day after as well. This time, we keep the doors open to both the hallway and the balcony, and the warm air filtered in and wrapped itself around us. It seems to do particularly wonderful things for Annie, and it makes me wonder how often she gets to step outside.

Tig makes a comment about how this was all inappropriate- me sitting with them, playing games with the doors open- but lets it drop almost immediately. She is quickly getting over trying to make me the lady it seemed I ought to be.

We are in the middle of a game of cards when I notice a figure out of the corner of my eye. It's Peeta, standing at the open door, looking amused. As our eyes meet, I can see that his expression is clearly asking what in the world I'm doing. I stand, smiling, and walk over to him.

"Oh, sweet Lord," Tig mutters as she realizes that the prince is at the door. She immediately sweeps the cards into a sewing basket and stands, Stacy and Annie following in suit.

"Ladies," Peeta says.

"Your Majesty," she says with a curtsy. "Such an honor, sir."

"For me as well," he answers with a smile. The maids look back and forth at one another, flattered. We're all silent for a moment, unsure of what to do.