chapter 2
Chapter 2
“You’re going to be enormous if you eat that,” my sister Guinevere scolds little Andrew who is reaching for yet another pastry. He responds by sticking out his sugar-coated tongue. Andrew is seven, but he can eat more than my sister and I combined. 15-year-old Guinevere monitors everything she eats. She is obsessed with eating healthily. I respect her dedication to taking care of her body, but my brother and I are just as healthy and we eat anything and everything we want.
My mother pipes up, “I’d prefer you not word it that way, Guin, but Andrew, I am afraid your sister is right. How about some strawberries? Watermelon? Anything?” Andrew reaches for the fruit bowl, seemingly having a change of heart, but we all know he’ll be back to his usual tricks before dinner.
Then, suddenly, I feel a shift in the air and before I know it everyone’s attention centers on me.
“So, Everleigh. Excited for tonight?” My mother asks. She is the one leading everything Selection-related. It’s too much for me to handle by myself while juggling proposals and budgets with my father.
“Yes!” My mouth hangs open, but this word did not come from my lips.
I look over at Guinevere who is practically trembling with excitement.
My parents chuckle quietly at her enthusiasm, “Now, I don’t believe your name is Everleigh, now is it?” My mother asks.
For no real reason, Guin looks chided. “I wish it were.”
“Not this again,” my father says, “Your name is lovely and we spent many a night discussing it.”
“But it sounds so dark. Gothic. I’m too light a person to carry such a heavy name.”
Guin has always been bitter about her name, but I think it quite suits her. It doesn’t sound dark or gothic to me. I think a person named Guinevere is someone you are meant to revere. Someone to look up to and adore.
“Your name is perfect,” my mother is getting impatient. “Now, I believe I asked your sister a question.”
Just like that, all the attention is back to me.
“Well, I am excited to be done with the mystery of it all.” All I want is to find out who my options are and get the competition started. Clearly, someone doesn’t share my opinion. Guin scoffs beside me. She hates being out out of the spotlight for even a few seconds.
“Ever, the mystery is the best part!”
“Guin’s right! The idea of a guy is always better than the actual guy. Keep away from them.” Surprisingly, my father throws in his two cents on the matter. He hates when we talk of my Selection.
Guin clears her throat, “That’s not quite what I meant…”
Before anyone has the chance to reply, I quickly take the opportunity to divert the conversation, “Andrew, what do you think about all those boys coming to stay with us?”
“Do you think they will like cars? They can only stay if they like cars.”
I smile at him. He is probably my favorite person on this planet. His requests are always so simple, so innocent. He is the easiest person to please. I love Guin, too, but she is too much like myself and, at the same time, too much not. Sometimes I’m not sure how my parents deal with us all. They are amazing role models. Everyday they demonstrate true strength. Leadership always seemed to come effortlessly to them when I was a child, but now that I am old enough to actually be involved in decisions about my fine nation I can see how tired they have become. Unlike most jobs, this one is life-long. No weekends, no holidays- though we celebrate lavishly-, no vacations, and no retirement.
I know I am blessed. Since birth I have never had anything to worry about. Food on the table, clothes on my back, and more money than anyone could spend in one lifetime. But because of my birth the well-being of my country falls on my back. I’m given everything I could ever need so I can don’t need to worry about myself or my family. In exchange, I need to ensure that the rest of Illèa is well-fed, well-paid, and has a high quality of life. It is quite the job.
“Is that all, Andrew?”
“Yeah, just make sure they don’t eat all the food.”
Everyone at the table, and even a few guards laugh lovingly at him. We finish our breakfast in good spirits.
“Crisis in Allens.” This is the first thing I hear when I walk into the boardroom.
“Hello to you too, Christina!”
“My apologies, your Highness, but this needs your immediate attention.”
I sigh. Never a dull moment.
“Doesn’t it all? What’s the problem?”
Christina, the royal military adviser, clicks a few buttons on the table in front of her, bringing up a hologram showing the main square in the province of Allens. Civilians are rushing everywhere, every inch of the display is utter madness.
“Christina, I am going to need words, this doesn’t mean much to me.”
“You see, your Highness, the people are in line outside the main office. They’re handing in their papers for the Selection.”
Lovely. No matter the reality, this scuffle has my name written all over it. The Selection hasn’t even begun and it’s falling apart at the seams.
“It was peaceful there, perfect, in fact,” Christina continues, “until a man came barreling into the crowd with a knife. He slashed at anything and everything in sight. All the soldiers were caught off guard, so he managed to get pretty far.”
I gasp as she rewinds the hologram and points out the man.
“He injured ten people, three of whom are currently in critical condition. The soldiers captured him, but his accomplices were right behind him. They were all screaming horrible things about the monarchy, yourself included, your Highness.”
My mouth gapes open. Speak against the monarchy? It is madness! Do we not provide them with everything they could want? Everything they need? Do we not have their best interests at heart here?
“You said they were captured, correct? So why is there still rioting?”
Christina pauses for a moment, hesitant to tell me the truth.
“There will be an answer to my question, Christina.”
A beat passes between us, silence that says more than mere words.
“Christina,” I say, in my best diplomatic voice, “you have helped my father and I through a lot. I hate to be so sharp with you, but you need to tell me what is happening in Allens, and you need to do it now.”
My anger is rising inside me. My father wants me to take on issues. Advisors want me to get a feel for ruling my own country. They place enormous amounts of pressure on me to deal with things before they got worse, and yet Christina is going to keep secrets from me?
Finally, she speaks. But they are not the words I want to hear.
“Perhaps I should go to King Aaron with this matter.”
I have had enough. I push back my chair with a horrid squeal and slam my hands on the desk.
“But you didn’t take it to him, did you? You brought it to me, because you believe
I can handle it. There is no going back now.”
Christina looks down, ashamed. Normally, I hate it when people react like this. I know I have power, but I am not practiced at handling it yet around my staff. This time is different. I want answers and I want them before they tear apart my livelihood.
I sit back down, more composed than before and level my voice again.
“Now, I am going to ask again. This time I advise you to remember who it is you are talking to.”
“Y-yes, your H-Highness!” Christina stammers out an apology. She is older than myself, probably hovering around age 30, and I feel simultaneously proud and ashamed that I have nearly brought her to tears.
“Good. Now, if I recall correctly, all members of this radical party have been contained. So why, then, is Allens in the midst of a riot?”
“Begging your pardon, your Highness, I only said the instigator of this little rebellion is in custody. They did catch a couple of his cohorts, but some are still on the loose. And the people there…” Christina pauses. I fix her with a look and she quickly picks the conversation back up, “At first they fought the rebels, calling them traitorous liars, but then one managed to silence them. He shouted things about how the United States of America was once founded on the idea of freedom from a monarchy and the ability to choose your own leaders for yourself. The people were hesitant to listen to them because they all know that the United States was far from perfect and was young when it ended. But...but the more the radicals spoke, the more the people listened. Before anyone knew what was happening, it was an all out frenzy.”
My fingers fly to my temples, to my hair, trying to cope with all this.
“Thank you, Christina.” She looks visibly upset. It takes me a moment to realize that Allens is her home province. It is impossible for me to imagine seeing my home fall apart that quickly.
“I just need to know two more things. Can you do that?”
Christina takes a deep breath. Just doing this simple task helps her to relax.
“First,” I began, “what happened to those in line with their applications?”
“Only some could turn them in. The rebels ripped a lot of the applications apart during the fighting.”
Great! When everything is finally coming together, something else feels the need to come through and destroy it all, leaving me with no time to fix any of it.
“Alright. Secondly, have you informed my father?”
“Yes. We told his Majesty when it first broke out. He sent soldiers for reinforcements, but he thought this would be a good mission for you to attend to.”
I rub my hands across my face again, stopping for a moment to focus solely on the tension leaving my muscles.
I raise my head again far to early.
“Christina, I need one last thing from you.”