A Previous Selection

Chapter Four

"Come on, Wren! You're going to be late to your own send-off ceremony!"

I take one last look around my room, pick up my bag, and meet the rest of my family in the living room.

"Okay. I'm ready. I think," I say with a sigh as I look around the living room, trying to remember every piece of it. 

I know that I'm about to go to the palace, but this place means so much. Holds all of my most important memories. And has all of the people that I love dearly. All of the people that I've never had to go a day without. 

I can't believe I'm about to leave them. 

But I'm supposed to be excited right now. 

So I try to suck up all of the emotions before anyone can notice, but Dad notices and wraps me up into a hug. 

"We're going to miss you so much, sweetie," he says. 

"Yes, we will. But you just have to remember what an amazing opportunity this is," Mom says, and I try to give her a convincing smile. 

"I know. I know. You've only told me that like 40 times since I was selected."

We all pile into the black car waiting for us outside that will take us to the send-off ceremony. Apparently, I'm already at risk of a rebel attack, and I'm not even at the palace yet.

That's just great, isn't it? 

We are driven the short distance to the town square, and my family files out of the car first, eager for this moment, eager for my moment. I take a deep breath before I step out of the car.

As soon as I do, I hear a bunch of cheers all around me. I take in my surroundings and see that the whole province is here. Which should really be no surprise since the Selection is the biggest event to happen since the last royal birth. But I guess a part of me thought that since I'm a Five, that a lot of people would have chosen to opt out of being here to see me off. But I don't have much time to mull over these thoughts because I'm quickly escorted up on a platform beside the mayor of Kent while my family is placed in front of the platform. Easy access when I have to say my final goodbyes.

I wipe my suddenly sweaty hands on my pants as I take in all of the familiar faces around me.

I wouldn't say that I have friends. Everything that I have learned career and education wise has come from my mother at home. With barely enough money to feed us and keep the electricity on, there was no way that she could afford to send all of us to a public school.

But I do recognize quite a few people. The fellow Fives that I have worked with, and some of the Sixes and Sevens that have enjoyed my family's company over the years. And the Fours and above, I've either only seen in passing, or while performing at a party.

So I don't really know any of these people. Just can match names with faces. 

And as I look out over the crowd, I find that it's extremely easy to tell the castes of every one of them, not because of the obvious physical factors that usually sets us all apart, but because of their facial expressions while they stare up at me on the platform. 

The Fives and below are beaming with the biggest smiles on their faces because someone like them actually made it in.

The Fours and above have scowls and clear disdain written on their faces. They believe that this spot was meant for one of them. That someone higher up should be where I am.

And trust me, I believe them. One of them should be up here instead of me. But not because of their caste. No, it's just because I'm really not cut out for this kind of stuff. I'm not cut out for the royal life.