The Selection: Third Generation

Ch. 14: Being Petty

"My favorite is the angel, miss," Leah says, showing me the design and shoving a box of feathers and sequins my way. I smile, looking at the amazing costume. We have been looking at designs for twenty minutes already, and Barbara is back and forth from the sewing room to my room to find out what others are doing.

"I like that one, as well," I say, touching the beautiful sample of material. It is white and iridescent.

"I didn't see anyone doing anything similar, miss," Barbara says, excited.

"I love it. This is the one!"

Someone knocks on my door three times, and Anne runs over to answer. I am looking at the angel design still whenever she says, "Your Highness," and curtsies. Leah and I shove the design and box away as Carlisle enters.

"Hide it, Leah!"

"Well, hello to you, too," he says, laughing. A photographer enters the room with him.

"Hello, your Highness," I say, smiling and sinking into a deep curtsy.

"Have you picked a design yet?" He asks, walking over to me.

"Yes, but you cannot see it."

"Oh, why not?" He asks, kissing me cheek and standing behind me. The photographer snaps a picture of the moment.

"It's going to be a surprise!"

"Well, what if I wanted to match you?" There's a glint of playfulness in his eyes.

"Well, what would the other girls and their families think of that?" I ask, elbowing him on the arm gently.

"Frankly, I don't care." His face is suddenly serious, and a little sad. I turn back to the designs. I can't handle where that conversation might go.

"Well, we can pretend to look at these other designs for some pictures," I say, looking to the photographer.

"Yes, my lady, that would be excellent. Pretend to be natural, like I am not here."

Leah holds up a few designs in front of us and Carlisle points at one on our left, and puts his right hand on my waist, holding me close from behind. This touch sends chills up my spine, but I do not show it. I smile as we go through multiple poses and the photographer leaves.

"I saved the best for last," Carlisle whispers to me. I smile at him and lead him out to the balcony. I lean on the railing, looking out over the gardens.

"Why do I feel like things are weird, now, Ar?"

"I'm just giving you some space. I know how I feel about you. About us. I'm giving you what you asked for, but it hurts. It hurts that you don't feel like I do. That you aren't secure in our love." I say, looking everywhere but at him. I notice that the balcony doors to all the still occupied rooms are open, and the sounds of the girls fretting over the Halloween ball are flowing out into the gardens.

"I understand. I'm going to get back to the office and get some work done. I'll see you at dinner," Carlisle says, anger in his voice. He is trying to hide it, but the door still slams on his way out.

"Miss? Are you okay?" Leah asks, stepping out onto the balcony.

"Yes." I answer quietly. "You may go and either take the day off or do what is needed to start my costume. All of you. I will be back in time to get ready for dinner." With this I go back through my room and into the hallway, heading towards the music room.

It must be hours that I sit in the chair near the window, a music stand in front of me, and my flute in hand. I played just about every classical piece of music in the room. I played songs I know by memories from performances and gigs. I even wrote and played the sheet music from piano to flute for my song, Never Stop. I am now playing it again, tears flowing from my eyes. I squeak on a note from my crying and drop my flute to my lap, putting my head in my hands. My shoulders shake but I work hard to stay quiet, not wanting anyone to hear my breakdown. It doesn't work too well.