12.

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The stage lights were hotter than I had expected. I must've looked like I was going to faint, because a microphone-wearing girl close to me in age hurried over with a cup filled with water for me. I sipped it carefully, not wanting to pass out or upset my stomach. It helped to sip at something cold.

The girl returned a few minutes before the cameras came on to take my cup and smooth out my hair for me. She flashed me a bright smile. "Are you okay?" She asked. "You look a bit overwhelmed."

I nodded. "Better now. Thank you."

"No problem. If you start feeling sick, try not to throw up on the other Selected." She turned and hurried off to do something else, talking into her earpiece. I didn't know how she ran around like that in heels.

The Royal Family had a number of microphone-wearing people rushing around them, adding some powder here or adjusting a hair there or fixing a dress or a suit even though it looked perfectly fine. Clara looked irritable, scowling as they fluttered around her like a swarm of makeup-happy butterflies. She looked every bit as annoyed as I had felt earlier, but I supposed that she had far more people hovering than I had.

Mason, on the other hand, was the picture of relaxation, only scowling when he was told to sit up straight and stop lounging. But then his good humor returned and he smiled again. I didn't know how he managed to be so damn patient. It must've been maddening, but he must've inherited it from his parents, who were the picture of patience in spite of all the people around them.

Alexander's expression was as unreadable as usual. We hadn't spoken since we returned to the palace, and we'd avoided looking at each other. I'd talked to Aquia a little bit before dinner, and I knew that Alexander had briefly spoken with Clara and Mason, but the Report made it difficult to tell anyone anything of substance or interest. Aquia was grinning beside me, and I was certain that no one knew why.

Silon Floyd, the Report's host (officially called the Royal Announcer, which sounds pretentious as hell), was a relatively short man somewhere near forty. He was a Two, and seemed on the verge of retiring after the Selection, but I wasn't sure. He had inky black hair and deep skin offset by a brilliantly fuchsia suit. The suit jacket had fuchsia sequins, which were blinding under the bright lights. I wondered how uncomfortable the suit was.

Silon was talking, but I couldn't find it in me to pay attention. We were just here to be eye candy, but my heart was still beating at the same pace as a hummingbird's wings. I had no idea what to expect, and I'd never had so much attention on me. I didn't listen to a word of his announcements and didn't realize that he was going to be speaking to the princes until Aquia kicked me.

There were three chairs placed in front of us, which Alexander, Mason, and Silon all occupied. Silon had asked them how they were doing.

Mason was grinning. "Great," he said. "It's nice having so many people in the palace."

Although no one really stared at Alexander, it felt like there was an expectation that he would speak. He flashed a winning smile that seemed far too mechanical and added, "It's a new experience that I'm thankful for. Getting to know all of these incredible women is a humbling adventure, and I'm excited to see what happens next." They were pretty words, but not ones that seemed genuine. Thankfully, it seemed to go over everyone's heads.

"I'm sure it is," Silon continued. "But I have to ask you both the questions that have been on the minds of everyone in Illéa since they arrived. First, do you have any favorites?"

The princes laughed good-naturedly, although they were clearly fake. Did nobody else notice this? Aquia clearly did, because she shifted a little in her seat like it made her uncomfortable. Alexander was the one that answered first this time. "All of the Selected are wonderful, unique people. I would hate to section them off like that when we're still getting to know them." Mason nodded in agreement.

I knew as soon as he opened his mouth that it was stupid of him to be the one to answer, because Silon latched onto this. "Prince Alexander," he said, "I think that's an interesting answer. Haven't you only been on a date with one Selected?"

There was a smattering of laughter. A few of the girls were struggling to keep smiling, and they had flushed unflattering shades of pissed off. Alexander laughed as well. "More than that, actually," he said. "There are still thirty in the competition still, Silon. It would be quite rude of me to only date one." A smattering of laughter again.

"Yes, well, you may has well have only gone out with one!" Silon exclaimed, and scattered laughter erupted once more. It was weird seeing how comfortable they all were with each other. "None of your dates have been nearly as secretive and talked about as your first date. It was very sudden."

"Oh," Alexander laughed. "My date with Lady Cassiana? I didn't realize everyone was so interested in it." He'd said it with a touch of innocent obliviousness in his voice, but I knew that it was an act. He'd known exactly how everyone was reacting to it (because people were still talking about it), and he'd even predicted it the night before while we discussed it in Clara's room.

"Of course everyone is," Silon answered. Everyone was so tuned into the conversation between him and Alexander that no one noticed Mason's usually-impassive expression break just enough to let a tiny, smug smile slip through. "Your first date was with the Selected in the lowest caste in Illéa. Naturally, people are talking."

Alexander shrugged, and even that looked oddly formal and not-Alexander. "I would think that since she's in the competition, it wouldn't be such a surprise that I would get to know her. Caste does not make a person better or worse, and Eights are people just like Sevens and Fours and Twos and Ones. An unfortunate situation does not make one any less entitled to kindness from others."

I found myself smiling down at my shoes. Part of me knew that he was saying it for the cameras, but it was nice to know that he cared enough to defend me in front of the entire country. It was a stupid thing to be happy over, I thought, but I supposed that my being able to appreciate things other than oh wow I finally have food and a bed and clothes that aren't torn and bloody and gross was a good sign. It meant that I was adapting. That didn't mean that I was suddenly Team Alexander or Team Romance or anything, but it was nice to find myself worrying about more "normal" things, you know?

Thankfully, the conversation quickly shifted, and the focus was on Mason. He was as charming and charismatic as always, making jokes and subtle hints the entire time. And I swore I saw Aquia blush a few times, even though she was never exactly mentioned. I was no longer so nervous about sitting on the stage, and although I still felt overheated, I thought that maybe it wasn't as bad as I had first thought. Maybe, just maybe, this was all something that I could handle.

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