Selected: Part 3 - Love and Lace

2. THE RECEPTION

OUR PICTURES HAD BEEN PRINTED in every magazine of Illéa, and the results were in. Maybe this poll seemed a little silly, but it's important for all of us to be liked by the public now that there was a one in ten chance that we'd get to marry Prince Ethan. Rather than one of the models coming first place, the people voted for Naomi's picture. I could tell why, as the way her straight blonde hair, rather than my short black hair, looked besides his long dark locks was so lovely. This poll was bringing some of the girl's moods down, but I was so happy to finally have a picture with Ethan that I could keep. When all the girls had left the Women's room, I picked up one of the discarded magazines, and cut out my favorite picture. Back in my room, I considered hiding it in one of my drawers, but it the sight of it brought such a smile to my face that I opted to paste it on the wall instead. I wondered which picture was Ethan's favorite, and if he'd kept any of them.

Gwen, who was distraught from having gotten a low ranking on the poll, was getting more and more distant. I wanted to comfort her, but she avoided my eyes and only talked to me when she absolutely had to. Feeling alone, I tried to spend time with Hazel, but she was busy with the menu for the upcoming reception. Ethan as well, was preoccupied with all the preparations. My team and I had arranged for live music and the most beautiful table settings, so I was certain with that, along with my fluency in French, we'd make a good impression on our guests.

But it was not to be. Right from the start, the reception was a disaster. The King of France had refused to attend, instead sending only the Queen and their daughter, along with advisors and other members of the nobility. This could only mean he did not want to take part in peace negotiations, and it was a significant let-down for everyone. We went on with the reception as best we could, but I could see how upset Prince Ethan was, always so transparent in his emotions. "What do you think is really going on between Illéa and France?" Claire whispered to me, between our conversations with some of the guests. "It was something about trade and immigration laws." I recalled. "It must be something more serious, if the King decided to back out last minute like that."

I noticed Prince Ethan talking privately with the French Princess. She was around our age, graceful, and beautiful. I tried to push back any jealousy, but they were standing so close, it all seemed so intimate. His expression was serious, and she seemed to be explaining something to him. I didn't want to pry, but just as I was about to turn back, the Princess slapped Ethan, and stormed off. I stood there shocked, just as some of the girls and other guests turned to see what had happened. Prince Ethan, probably embarrassed, left out the other door. I wanted to follow him, wanted to know what had happened, but I figured it was best to complete my tasks here while the reception was still going.

At night, when everyone had retreated from the reception hall, I set out to find him. It was probably inappropriate, but I'd been missing him so much that knowing something might be wrong was too much to live with. I couldn't go to his room, since the whole floor was restricted, and after searching every place I could think of, I turned in for the night, deflated. I wasn't expecting to find Ethan sitting on the floor, right by my door. "You took so long to come back." He said, but there wasn't any accusation in his tone. "I was looking for you; I wanted to know if you were okay." With my words, he stood up, brushing off his pants. "I wanted to talk to you, Liliana. I think you should know about this. Could you walk with me?" I could only nod, stupidly afraid that maybe I had done something wrong.

He took my arm and led me outside before he started. "I think I mentioned to you before how it was my choice to have a Selection, that my father would have preferred to disregard this tradition." I remembered. I was so glad for the Selection; had it not happened, I couldn't be here with him. "Unknown to me, for a long time, my father and the French King had been planning for an arranged marriage between Princess Marianne and I. This was to solidify our alliance, as tensions were already brewing." He'd told me this before, but I hadn't understood how serious it was. "My decision to have a Selection instead, to selfishly follow my hopes to find love, are now putting my country at risk. We're losing this valuable ally, faced with the threat of war, and it's all my fault."

"But why was the Princess so angry with you?" I still couldn't believe she slapped him in front of everyone. He sighed. "She was actually looking forward to our union, apparently, and now she has to marry a prince who she dislikes. She sees my choice as a personal insult to her, and is blaming all her problems on me." I stopped walking. "That's not fair. How could anyone blame you?" He let go of my arm. "Maybe it is fair. I shouldn't have gone through with the Selection; my duty is to my country first. I just thought I could find..." He stared at me then, and looked so hurt, I felt myself get as upset as him. "What are you saying?"

"I think I should call off this whole thing, and follow the original plan." He finally said. "What? Now? After all we've been through?" I never got angry, but at that moment, I wanted to scream. Two of us had even died for this stupid Selection, and he was acting like it was really all just a game. "Do we mean nothing to you?" Do I mean nothing to him?  He tried to take my hand, but I pulled it away. "I have to think of what's best for Illéa." I tried to lower my voice, as to not cause a scene. "I get it, I really do. But Ethan, you made your choice; you can't go back on it this far in." Maybe I was the one being selfish.

"You need to stop blaming yourself for everything." I pressed. "I'm the Prince; I have responsibilities to uphold." He couldn't keep feeling so guilty all the time, it was ridiculous. "You're just a boy." I stated, as softly as I could in my state. "I know you love your country, but it's okay to love yourself, too." I knew that to be true. I loved Ethan, but I was learning to love myself as well and now knew how important that was. "You can't understand the position I'm in." Couldn't he see how hard I was trying to? I suddenly really wanted to get away from this conversation.

I didn't want to say it; how much I loved him, and how it hurt me that he could even think to throw all of this away. I was too embarrassed, as I figured all of this meant my feelings were not reciprocated. I thought I was doing all I could, but apparently it wasn't enough. I went back to my room alone, but through my window, could see he stayed awake quite awhile longer, wandering the gardens.

Even after such a long day, even after a relaxing bath, I couldn't sleep. I'd never fought with Ethan, I'd never fought with anyone. Having been raised in abusive households, I'd sworn to myself I'd never get so angry, that I'd never raise my voice. I guess I'd never cared so much about something, someone, to warrant getting angry. And I was so angry and disappointed in Ethan. I couldn't picture him getting married to the French Princess; it just seemed so wrong. After tossing and turning for awhile. I got up from the bed and took the picture of us that I'd pasted to my wall, and I just stared.