Truly Selected (Book One of The Next Selection Series)

Chapter 1

My entire existence has been as a Four. 

I didn't need fancy food or pristine princess ball gowns for me to be happy. No tiara would ever be placed upon my head, nor would I want one to be. 

I was content with the life I had always had.

Being born a Four instead of a Three or a Two was a blessing in itself. I could stand my ground, yet I was humbled. I wasn't a caste climber like other people were. My mother however, was a totally different story. Instead of the Queen of Illéa, the strong country I lived in, she was Queen of the Climbing Ladder. Being a Two was her ultimate goal, but a One was her dream.

So when my mother got the mail this morning, and an envelope was addressed in my name, and she had a creepy smile that said I'm going to make you do something you won't like, I knew that letter could only mean one thing.

"How could you do this to me?" I shrieked at my mother as she handed me a pen and a thick envelope from the Palace.

"Please Sol; think of all the good The Selection could do for our family," she begged.

The thing is, I don't have any interest in partaking in The Selection. I wasn't graceful, I didn't have an air of perfection to me, and, for as far as I was concerned, I wasn't beautiful. 

I looked at my mother, thinking again of the reasons of why the Selection wasn't a good option for my future. However, my secrets would not be spoken. Mother would never understand if I revealed my true reasons for wanting to stay in Kent. She wasn't that kind of person.

"Why should I fill out this form and be entered into some stupid competition for the Princes' to possibly fall in love with me? Not to mention, I don't even want the Crown." I finished and saw that answer wasn't good enough for her.

A tear slipped out of her tired grey eyes before she spoke angrily toward me. 

"Listen up Sol. Our family has been busting our behinds to keep our crops good for years and to ensure that you are healthy. Your father and I can't do this forever, and you should do this for him and your family. Especially since your brother Ben..." My mother couldn't contain her tears anymore, especially when it came to Ben.

"You don't have to say it mom," I mumbled, guilt clawing at me from the depths of my stomach.

"Obviously, I do," She responded bitterly. "It's been especially hard on our family since your brother died in combat all those years ago." 

 I shuttered.

Ben, my older brother, was drafted into the Illéan Army when I was only 14 years old. After four months, there was a bad Rebel attack on the Palace. My parents had stopped receiving letters filled with checks from Ben in the mail and they assumed he was either captured or dead; neither option was good.

I did feel bad for my mom. It wasn't her fault that Ben was drafted. It wasn't her fault that she would prefer a shiny diamond necklace instead of a dull one with a clay bead as its center. And it certainly wasn't her fault that I would rather have a crown of daisies on my head instead of a tiara. It was just the way things were. Mother would never accept that, no matter how much I tried to please her.

I was brought back to the present when my mother slapped me across my face. I felt the burning sensation on my left cheek, but resisted the urge to cry out in front of her.

"Well..." she said coldly. I sighed, but responded calmly. 

"I'll think about it."

She gave me a tight lipped smile before she returned to her farm work.