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The Selection

By Summer101234

27.6K 382 68

Florence Lannister had her whole life planned, but the letters for the selection came through the post and ru... More

Characters
Chapter one
Chapter two
Chapter three
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven.
Chapter Eight.
Chapter Nine.
Chapter ten
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24

Chapter Four

1.3K 25 5
By Summer101234

As if on cue, a man appeared through the door to our left. "I hear all four of our Selected girls are here?" "We sure are," Celeste replied sweetly. The man sort of melted a little, you could see it in his eyes. She knew exactly how to play the game.The captain paused a moment and then snapped to. "Well. Ladies, if you'll just follow me, we'll get you on the plane and off to your new home." The flight, which was really only terrifying during the takeoff and landing, lasted a few short hours. We were offered movies and food, but all I wanted to do was look out the window. I watched the country from above, amazed at just how big it all was. Celeste chose to sleep through the flight, which was a small mercy. Ashley had a foldout desk set up and was already writing letters about her adventure. That was smart of her to pack paper. Amie wouldn't care for letters, she hates reading especially if there boring, she would only care about the Prince, and the dresses.
"She's so elegant," Marlee whispered to me and America tilting her head toward Ashley. We were sitting across from each other in plush seats in the very front of the small plane. "From the moment we met, she's been nothing but proper. She's going to be tough competition," she said with a sigh. "You can't think about it that way," America says. "Yes, you're trying to make it to the end, but not by beating someone else. You've just got to be you. Who knows? Maybe Maxon would prefer someone more relaxed."
I jump into the conversation,"I guess that's a good point. It's hard to not like her. She's awfully kind. And so beautiful." Marlee nods in agreement, "Celeste, on the other hand..." America's eye widen"I know. It's only been an hour, and I'm already looking forward to her going home." Marlee covered her mouth to hide a laugh. "I don't want to talk badly about anyone, but she's so aggressive. And Maxon's not even around yet. I'm a little nervous about her."

"Don't be," I assured her. "Girls like that? They'll take themselves out of the competition." Marlee sighed. "I hope so. Sometimes I wish..." "What?"
"Well, sometimes I wish that the Twos had an idea about what it felt like to be treated the way they treat us." America nodded. I'd never really thought of myself being on the same level as a Four, but I guess we were in a similar place. If you weren't a Two or Three, it was just varying shades of bad. "Thanks for talking to me," she said. "I was worried that everyone would just be out for themselves, but you and Ashley have been really nice. Maybe this will be fun." Her voice lifted with hope. I wished she was right, some girls wouldn't be like us.

When we landed, the air was silent as we walked the distance from the plane to the terminal with guards at our side. But once the doors were opened, we were met with ear-shattering screams. The terminal was full of people jumping and cheering. A path had been cleared for us with a golden carpet lined with coordinating rope barriers. At regular intervals along this channel were guards, looking around anxiously and poised to strike at the first hint of danger. Surely there were more important things they should be doing? Luckily, Celeste was in front, and she started waving. I knew immediately that that was the right response, not the cowering I had been considering. And since the cameras were there to catch our every move, I was doubly glad I hadn't been leading the pack. The crowd was wild with joy. These would be the people we lived the closest to, and they were all looking forward to catching the first glimpses of the girls coming to town. One of us would be their queen someday. I turned my head a dozen times in a matter of seconds as people called my name from all over the packed terminal. There were signs with my name on them, too. I was amazed. Already there were people here-people not in my caste or from my province-who hoped it would be me. I felt a little roll of guilt in my stomach that I would let them all down. I decided to put on a show, America had already started signing autographs why shouldn't I do the same.

"What's your name?" I say to a little girl who's holding a sign saying. "Florence for Queen" that made me smile, even little children support me. "Hannah Miss." she says, beaming with happiness. "Well Hannah, I appreciate your support! You remind me of my little sister, I hope one day you get chosen for the selection, then I will be holding up a poster saying Hannah for Queen!" I say holding her hand and she beams and hugs me. "Thank you!" She says and both of her parents thank me. People wanted Pictures, autographs, anything they could get their hands on, this was exhilarating. I tried to make time to talk to everyone, all of the girls were waiting on me and America. I didn't want to take up the time of the girls so I said my goodbyes. Getting into the car, I saw Celeste roll her eyes, but I didn't care. I was still sort of in awe of how I'd adjusted so quickly to something that had frightened me only moments before. I had made it through my good-byes, meeting the first girls, my flight, and interacting with our mob of fans. All without doing anything embarrassing. I thought about the cameras following me in the terminal and pictured my family watching my entrance on TV. I hoped they'd be proud.

EVEN AFTER THE SUBSTANTIAL GREETING party at the airport, the roads leading up to the palace were lined with masses of people calling out their well-wishes. The sad thing was that we weren't allowed to roll down the windows to acknowledge them. The guard in the front said to think of ourselves as extensions of the royal family. Many adored us, but there were people out there who wouldn't be above hurting us to hurt the prince. Or the monarchy itself. I was stuck next to Celeste in the car-a special one that had two rows of seats facing each other in the back and darkened windows-with America next to me and Ashley and Marlee sitting together in front of us. Marlee beamed as she stared out the windows, and it was obvious why. Her name was on several of the signs. It would be impossible to count how many admirers she had. Ashley's name was sprinkled in there, too, almost as much as Celeste's, and far more than mine. I didn't see any for America. Ashley, ever the lady, took not being a runaway favorite in stride. Celeste, I could see, was irritated. "What do you think she did?" Celeste whispered in my ear, as Marlee and Ashley spoke to each other of home. "What do you mean?" I whispered back. "To be so popular. You think she bribed someone?" Her cold eyes focused in on Marlee as if she was weighing her worth in her head. "Maybe, people have more than one way to pay for what they want, just because she's a four doesn't mean everyone would love her, your a two and not everyone loves you, but she seems nice." I whisper back, I'm starting to like Celeste. Celeste sucked her teeth. "You just met her, I just met you. You could have bribed your way into the competition. God knows some of the girls did. You have common sense." She says before turning her head back to the window.

I didn't have a very good view coming up to the palace, but I noticed the walls. They were a pale yellow stucco and very, very high. Guards were placed on top at either side of the wide gate that swung open as we approached. Inside we were greeted with a long gravel drive that circled a fountain and led to the front doors, where officials waited to welcome us. With barely more than a hello, two women took me by the arms and ushered me inside. "So sorry to rush, miss, but your group is running late," one said. "Oh, I'm afraid that's my fault. I got a little too chatty at the airport." I say back apologetically. "Talking to the crowds?" the other asked in surprise. They exchanged a look I didn't understand before they started calling out locations as we passed. The dining room was to the right, they told me, and the Great Room was to the left. I caught a glimpse of sprawling gardens out the glass doors and wished I could stop. Before I could even process where we were going, they pulled me into a huge room full of bustling people. A swarm parted, and I saw rows of mirrors with people working on girls' hair and painting their nails. Clothes hung on racks, and people were shouting things like "I found the dye!" and "That makes her look pudgy." "Here they are!" I saw a woman coming up to us, clearly the person in charge. "I'm Silvia. We spoke on the phone," she said as a means of introduction, then immediately went to work. "First things first. We need 'before' pictures. Come over here," she commanded, pointing us to a chair in the corner in front of a backdrop. "Don't mind the cameras, ladies. We'll be doing a special on your makeovers, since every girl in Illea's going to want to look like you by the time we're done today."

Sure enough, teams of people with cameras were wandering around the room, zooming in on girls' shoes, and interviewing them. Once the pictures were done, Silvia began shouting orders. "Take Lady Celeste to station four, Lady Ashley to five ... and it looks like they just finished up at ten. Take Lady Marlee there,Lady Florence to one. and Lady America to six." "So here's the thing," a short, dark-haired man said, pulling me over to a seat with a six on the back. "We need to talk about your image." He was all business. "My image?" What are they trying to do? "How do we make you look? Your skin is fair, we can make you look innocent or seductive. We can make either work." He says. "Is there no in between? I don't want to look too over the top." I say and he nods before sitting me down on a chair. "Let us polish you up darling." He says and a swarm of woman come over. I didn't realize that when he said "polish," he meant it literally. I had women scrub my body because I apparently couldn't be trusted to do a good enough job on my own. Then every exposed bit of skin was covered with lotions and oils that left me smelling like vanilla, which according to the girl who applied them was one of Maxon's favorite smells. After they were done making me smooth and supple, attention was turned to my nails. They were trimmed and buffed and the tough little pieces of skin around them were miraculously smoothed away. They chose a nice Nude pink colour, it looked wonderful.

My hair was washed, conditioned, hydrated, and smoothed. It was long and all one length when I came in-my mom usually cut it, and that was the best she could do-but by the time they were done, it was several inches shorter and had layers. I liked those; they made my hair catch the light in interesting ways. Some girls got things called highlights, and others had the color changed completely. But my attendants and I all agreed that mine should go untouched in that department. A very pretty-looking girl did my makeup. I instructed her to go light and natural to give me a clean look. Lots of the other girls looked a little older or younger or just nicer after the makeup. I still looked like me when I was done. Of course, so did Celeste, since she insisted upon piling it on. I'd gone through most of this process in a robe, and once they were done fixing me up, I was led over to the racks of clothes. My name was hanging above a bar holding a week's worth of dresses. The dress I chose was beautiful, it was white and had orange flower details on the bust, I had mesh sleeves and a huge flower skirt, I felt like a queen. The girl helping me into it called it a day dress. She told me that my evening dresses were already in my room, and the rest of these would go up there as well. Then she placed a silver pin near the top of my dress. My name glittered across it. Finally she put me into shoes she called kitten heels and sent me back to the corner so I could take my "after" shot.

From there I was ordered to one of four little stations lined up against the wall. Each had a chair with a backdrop and a camera sitting in front of it. I sat down as instructed and waited. A woman came up with a clipboard of information in her hand and asked me to be patient while she found my papers. "What's this for?" I asked. "The makeover special. We'll be airing one about your arrivals tonight, the makeovers are on Wednesday, and then Friday you'll do your first Report. People have seen your pictures and know a little bit about what was on your applications," she said as she located her papers and placed them on the top of her clipboard. Then she laced her fingers together and continued. "But we want to make them really pull for you. And that won't happen unless they can get to know you. So we'll just do a little interview here, and you do your best on the Reports, and then don't be shy when you see us around the palace. We aren't here every day, but we'll be around."

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