Another One (Book 3 of selection fanfics)

Chapter 23- Derek's POV

Derek's POV

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen! Thank you for joining us on this week's edition of the Report," Gavril Fadaye beamed into the camera. The seating tonight was much more confined than I was used to, with Eveline, Rowan, Audrey and Erika arranged in a two-by-two formation off to the side of the set. My family sat in our usual seats, my parents side by side, followed by my sisters, brother and I. The only Schreave absent tonight was Marlee, who sat in bed sick as a dog. I made a mental note to visit her after the Report and checked yet another person off the list of people I'd all but abandoned in the last month or so.

I glanced to my left, paranoid that Genevieve would be gone again. The Reports without her had been torturous and her noticeably empty seat had given me periodic panic attacks, all of which I'd hidden to myself, locked in my office and bedroom with the rest of my outbursts. We'd been inseparable since birth; the thought that she nearly died still haunted me, even though she sat beside me, a bored expression masking any emotion.

I looked ahead towards the Selected. Audrey and Eveline sat at the front, Erika and Rowan just behind them. My gaze strayed to Erika, beautiful as ever in a peach strapless gown. I wondered if she'd placed herself in the back purposely or if it was just coincidence. Still, my stomach churned, angry at myself for thinking of my own sister while hers lay in a grave in Kent.

She twisted her hands nervously, wrists noticeably bare. I supposed she'd left her bracelet somewhere, never to be worn again. I hated that the last piece of her grandmother had been ruined by me, by her brother, by this ridiculous band of rebels who insisted on murdering innocent people for no real gain.

I wanted to place my hands over hers, soothe her nerves, and reassure her that she would be fine. But the most I could give her was an encouraging smile while everyone else focused on Gavril. I didn't know when he would want to speak with her, but I had my suspicions that he would wait until the end, to draw out the suspense.

Sure enough, he began with my parents before moving on to the rest of the Selected. He started with Audrey, and continued through Eveline and Rowan before pausing to address the cameras directly.

"Now, citizens of Illéa, we have a surprise in store for you. Never before has something like this occurred in the generations of Selections," Gavril spoke dramatically, his voice rising with each sentence before he paused suddenly. "A previously eliminated Selected has returned. Lady Erika Carpenter, if you would kindly step forward."

Gavril motioned to a pair of chairs in the center of the stage. Erika stood up, slowly, and I could just make out her whispering to herself as she stepped forward, stumbling only slightly as she sat. Gavril swooped in, leaning forward just so.

"So, Lady Erika. Can you explain for us what prompted your return to the palace?"

She paused for a moment and glanced at me from the corner of her eye. Not asking me for permission—we'd decided already that she could say whatever she wished to. It was a thoughtful look, one that made me squirm in my seat.

She turned suddenly and a lock of blonde hair flipped lazily across her shoulder. "Well, Prince Derek came to Kent himself. To apologize, for his own actions and the misunderstandings we'd had with one another. And to ask me if I'd come back to the palace."

I could hear gasps and hushed whispers around the set. I could feel everyone's eyes watching my every move as I nodded to confirm what Erika had said. I wasn't worried about what people would think of me. I knew I trusted Erika, knew that I loved her.

So why haven't you ended this, a nagging voice echoed in my head.

Only my father clearing his throat stopped the voice from continuing to snap at me. In truth, while I was still at a loss for what to do, public opinion, my father, and his advisors were really the obstacles stopping this Selection from ending. My parents Selection, due to their own extenuating circumstances, had been short compared to previous generations. The advisors believed that mine should be dragged on as long as possible, to keep the people distracted.