The Prince

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I PACED THE FLOOR, TRYING to walk the anxiety out of my body.

When the Selection was something in the distance—a possibility for my future—it sounded thrilling. But now? Well, I wasn’t so sure.

The census had been compiled, the figures checked multiple times.

The palace staff was being reallocated, wardrobe preparations were being made, and rooms were being readied for our new guests.

The momentum was building, exciting and terrifying in one fell swoop.

For the girls, the process started once they filled out the forms—

thousands must have done so by this point. For me, it started tonight.

I was nineteen. Now, I was eligible.

Stopping in front of my mirror, I checked my tie again. There would be more eyes watching than usual tonight, and I needed to look like the self-confident prince everyone was expecting. Finding no fault, I left for my father’s study.

I nodded at advisors and familiar guards along the way. It was hard to imagine that in less than two weeks, these halls would be flooded with girls. My knock was firm, a request made by Father himself. It seemed there was always a lesson for me to learn.

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