Paraden: Chosen

Chapter 4

We began walking towards home, well Cosette's pace was almost running. My parents and I listening to her unceasing chatter about how her big sister is a Chosen. Emphasizing even further how I'm not only a Chosen but the prince's Chosen.

"Clara, you get to live with the prince, isn't he so hot."

"Mmhmm," I acknowledge her so she would turn her attention to something other than him. Yes, Crowned Prince Lionel is handsome but I am not moving to the Inner Paraden to find love, I want to expand my knowledge and make my family proud. Just a month there will allow my father to afford mother's medicine.

"Think about it Clara, you are beautiful, he is bound to fall in love with you," Cosette continues on the prince topic. "Y'all will dance the night away at a ball and then he will lean in and kiss you in front of the whole party," she giggles at her imaginative picture of me and the prince.

"I highly doubt that CoCo, I probably won't even be allowed at the balls or I'll too busy to go anyway," this causes a slight frown to form on her face.

"It's got to happen though because then I'll be a princess," Cosette stomps her foot in rejection to my statement. That is not exactly true but I am not gonna be the one to break that to a twelve-year-old.

"Princess Cosette Barsotti has a nice ring to it doesn't it," she pushes an answer on the subject.

"Yes it does, but you're already my princess darling," my father takes his turn in answering the excited child, "but we have to get home quickly to get Clara packed and in bed so pick up the pace Cosette."

"Oh yeah! The bag!" she increases her pace to a run.

"Not that fast CoCo," my mother yells after her.

The three of us pick up our pace, not too fast as to not over exert mother.

After about five minutes of this hurried pace, we round the corner onto our street.

My house, a one-story red brick building, rises in my view. It is very similar to those surrounding it; brick build, small yard, no unnecessary decorations; quite boring if you ask me but it cost money to be anything else.

We make our way to the black painted front door and my father looks down at the brown bag sitting on the doormat. He ignores it taking his key out to unlock the door. It swings open and he reaches down and grabs the bag before taking a step inside.

"Is that from the Council dad, I wanna open it, please dad!" CoCo makes a grab for the letter.

"No Cosette, it is Clara's to open," he gives her a displeased look, "please stop trying to snatch it from my hands."

"Sorry dad," she apologizes.

"Maybe Clara wouldn't mind opening it in the kitchen for all of us to hear what it says, " my mother says looking at me.

"Not at all mama," I take the bag from my father's now outstretched hand and lead my family into the kitchen.

Our kitchen is quaint with a working fridge; a few countertops; an old stove that always seems to break; and a table nestled in the corner with 6 chairs, for if we have guests.

I settle into one chair, whilst my family does the same, and begin unzipping the large pocket. Right in the middle of the bag is a white envelope with my name written in fancy script on the top. Taking the letter out I begin removing the Council wax seal pressed into the back of the envelope.

It pops up easily and I begin to pull out the paper nestled inside.

Ms. Claramond Barsotti,