The Selection: but less competitive, more wholesome

Fascinating Distinction

Shortly before we stood to go to lunch, the same maid as before half-entered. "Lady Kira?"

She'd noticed my ambiguity before the others, praise the skies. I snuck her a small folded bird in thanks as I left the room, and she pointed me around the corner.

The prince was waiting just behind it, and looked pleased to see me. "I understand you utilized a bit of discretion in seeing me?"

"Yes, I hope that's all right. The ladies are already on edge with me, having disappeared all morning, and being one of the few to already have been addressed by you."

"It's important to you to be liked?"

"It's important to me not to be disliked for things not under my control."

He looked out the arched window beside us, cracked to allow a breeze to circulate the corridors, and watched a leaf blow against the window as he thought. At last he returned his gaze to me and said, "That is a fascinating distinction and I really enjoy it." He held out a crooked arm, with a shallow bow. "Shall we?"

"With pleasure, Your Highness." I clapped my hand down in the crook of his arm and let him lead me away. "So do you do these tastings often?"

"If there's a large event being planned, which ought to have a menu tailored for it, yes. We sampled for your welcome supper, for example, and for the yearly Christmas party. And once or twice throughout the year, to see what items we'd like added to the menu. Our responses to the items will grade whether or not they make it onto the chefs' lists at all, and also factor into how often they're served."

"Will I be filling out any documentation on this as well?"

"You might as well, though I think they'll appreciate mine a bit more."

"Fair enough. What kinds of food will we be trying?"

"Very small samples of main courses, appetizers, sides, hors d'oeuvres, desserts, a few drinks."

"Oh I don't drink."

"At all?" He opened the door to an alcove that looked out over the garden, and which gathered only the faintest edges of the hot midday sun. "Well not to worry, I can try those."

"Sir, you have to go back to work after this."

He held out a seat for me at a table already set with a variety of small plates, with labels on color-coded paper, and small notebooks for grading. "I assure you, I am well aware of that."

"Yes, and how do you intend to court twenty-something people at the same time as attempting to run a country?"

He took a heavy seat. "A tight calendar and little sleep?"

"I really don't envy you, gotta say."

"If you make it to the end, you might be stuck with it."

I raised my eyebrows. "That is an apt reminder." I gestured to the many tiny plates before us. "So, what do we have here?"

"We usually start with the hors d'oeuvres. So, try anything you like, find the name of it on your sheets there, rate it and give a comment if you have one."

"Small servings," I noted.

He grinned. "You have over thirty of these to attempt to sample."

"Big servings."

"Yes, the chefs do their best to make the servings bite-sized, to make the whole process a bit easier on the natural volume of the human stomach. I do like sampling days though, because it means the staff get all the extra."