#the selection

The halls were nearly silent as you strode for your parent's quarters, the only sounds coming from the quiet click click click of your slingback heels on the marble. Your lips were pursed so tightly that you thought you'd flatten them completely; then again, as the Princess of Illea, when did you have time to relax? Even if it was just your lips?

Approaching the large, oak door at the end of the hallway, you curled your fingers into a fist, rapping at the surface three sharp times. Unfurling your fingers, your mouth relaxed, a small smile curling your lips. Lucille had really outdone herself this morning, especially as she tended to your cuticles. Reguardless of how often you picked and bit at the skin, she somehow rendered your hands perfect by the end of the manicure.

This time, you allowed her to choose the color. She chose a ballet slipper pink, a known favorite of yours. You hadn't objected to the chosen shade, though it was a common color choice.

The golden knob turned then, the door giving way and swinging open to reveal your mother's smiling face from inside. You curtsied politely, and she extended her hand to you.

"Come, my dear. We've just received the applications for this season's Selection; and, by the word, you have many males vying for your hand." She beamed, placing a hand over yours and pulling you inside. Rays of golden light streamed in from outside, the late-afternoon light aglow across the exquisitely patterned floor beyond. Guiding you toward your father's study, your eyes widened and nearly bulged at the sight of all those envelopes stacked haphazardly atop his desk.

You slowly turned to your mother.

"Mother, I..." you trailed off, trying to find the right way to say the words stuck on your tongue. "I... there are a lot of applicants, and... are we sure this is the best idea?"

Before the Queen could respond, a rustling came from one of the piles behind the desk. Just then, you spotted your father's salt-and-peppered head, his vibrant eyes to follow.

"Oh, but of course my dear!" He beamed, unloading the armful of envelopes onto the floor. You pressed your fingertips to your lips in an attempt to surpress your giggle, but both of your parents had already seen it. Rounding the corner of the desk, the King of Illea approached you, placing two hands on your shoulders.

"Don't tell me you're having second thoughts..."

"I'm not!" You assured him quickly, hoping he wouldn't get the wrong idea. Of course you were having second thoughts; a million thoughts, if you were being honest. But, your parents could never know that -- it'd be unbecoming if the future Illean queen was debating her life choices, especially one as important as this.

He took the bait, grinning at you before leaning in to kiss the crown of your head.

"That's the spirit," he chimed, glancing to his wife as he stood straight. "I was able to find the most perfect match in Illea from my Selection -- who's to say you won't find yours as well?"

You nodded, plastering a smile on your face at once. Just make them buy it for now, so you can hopefully buy some time later.

"Right," you responded, looking around at all the applications again. "You're right."

And, he was -- you may very well find your perfect match, his envelope hidden here within the masses. Or, you may not; in fact, you were banking on that.

The alternative to not finding the love of your life was much, much scarier for you to think about.

At least for now, that is. The 17 chosen males had yet to arrive, and make their debut to their future queen.

* ✧･ﾟ: *