The Spare: Prince Osten's Selection

Chapter 4

The several weeks before  the names were going to be drawn on the The Report were agony. I knew truly in the grand scheme of possibilities in the world that I did not have much of a chance. The entire country was already buzzing in anticipation about The Selection, and I am sure every eligible girl in the country had put her name in. However, unlike me, most girls probably wanted to be a princess, not go to college.

Magazines we stocked at our grocery store were filled with pages on Selection coverage before it even started. Coverage ranged from possible Selection candidates to rumors  of Prince Osten's secret love affair with an Italian princess  to rumors that the  prince may secretly prefer men. One afternoon Gemma had been reading one of them in the back office while I finalized the inventory.

"I just do not think that Ashlyn Blake would be a good princess. She is so trashy," Gemma had whined as she plopped an open glossy magazine on the table where I was working.

The story she had been reading involved speculation that Ashlyn Blake was going to be drawn as the candidate from Angeles. She had sang at Prince Osten's eighteenth birthday party, and the magazine claimed he had been infatuated with her from that night forward and they were rigging The Selection so she could be the next princess despite she had been seen on the arm of some professional basketball player.

"I doubt Ashlyn Blake has the demeanor to follow the rules and structure of being part of the royal family," I had replied, barely looking up from the inventory form I was filling out.

Gemma had stopped pacing for a few moments and then said, "Zara, I really really want you to be drawn. I think you would be a great princess. You're always putting others before yourself, work so hard all the time, and of course are the smartest person I know."

I had looked up slowly as I let the words sink in. My sister's chocolate brown eyes had turned uncharacteristically serious. I had been surprised by the turn the conversation took, and her words had struck me in a way I had not expected. 

"Thank you, Gemma. That means a lot," I had said. I had given her a big hug before I went back to my inventory and she went back to her magazine. My little sister was never serious. She always was skipping through life, spreading sunshine and warmth to everyone she encountered with her bouncy and bubbly demeanor. She was rarely so serious or vocal about something she wanted to happen. All of Gemma's hopes and dreams were always off in the clouds, not based in reality. She would wish we could move to France one week then would begin to beg my mom for a pony the next. At her worst, Gemma could come off as naive, but she always expressed her hopes more as fantasies, never with seriousness or conviction.

This statement had been different. She really wanted me to be a part of The Selection and go compete for Prince Osten's hand. However, she wanted this because of qualities she saw within me,  not because of the beautiful gowns I would get to wear or because of how cute Osten was.

Her words weighed on me more than I had expected they would. Would I really be a good princess. Gemma had said she thought I would be a good princess because I put others before myself. Was entering The Selection for the money to go to college really something I was doing for the good of others? I knew I kept telling myself I was doing it to help my family, but all the money I would even make if selected would be taking from a compensation meant to provide for my family in my absence. 

My parents knew I entered The Selection, but they did not know of my plans for the money. However, the chances of my name being drawn had seemed so distant and so far away that I did not really see the point of letting them in on my plan unless the stars aligned correctly.

The atmosphere of the night the names were to be drawn was a strange combination of tensity and excitement. Gemma and Briony had crafted crowns out of construction paper for all the family, and mom had made a delicious roasted chicken dinner with fresh vegetables. Gemma and Briony had chatted enthusiastically and bounced around as they passed out crowns as we ate our dinner in relative silence.

Finally, Dad spoke.

"Well, Zara. Are you excited for the The Report tonight? I hear quite a special announcement might be made," he said with a grin, obviously seeing my nerves and trying to quell them.

"I am excited at least to get it over with. Whatever the announcement might be," I say with a half smile. I cannot tell him I am so nervous I feel like I may burst. I cannot tell him how Gemma's statement had affected me. I cannot tell him I want to enter The Selection for the money for college. 

Can I?

"Dad, I have to tell...," I began, but Gemma quickly interrupts. 

"IT IS TIME," she shrills, running over to the television and turning it on. We all turn our chairs to look at it.

The recognizable Illéa emblem blazes across the screen, and then, Gavril Fadaye's face appears, flashing his famous camera-ready grin.

"Folks! Tonight is the night. We will be drawing the names of the 36 lucky girls chosen for Prince Osten's Selection! This will be the first time our nation holds a Selection where the member of the royal family looking for a partner is not the presumptive heir to the throne, but I can guarantee we as a nation look forward to welcome a new Princess of Illéa into our hearts. Isn't that right your Majesty?"

Right then, the camera panned out, and Queen Eadlyn gracefully approached the podium from which Gavril was speaking.

"I know so, Gavril. I cannot put into words not only how excited for people, but how thrilled I am for my brother and to have a new sister," Queen Eadlyn said grinning. "I grew up with four brothers, and when Princess Josephine joined our family, I finally learned what it was like to have a sister. I can't wait to welcome my brother's future wife."

"Now with that said, shall we start reading the names?" Gavril asked.

"I am ready when you are," Eadlyn replied.

"Your Highness, come on down and meet the girls who will be coming to the palace for a chance to win your heart," Gavril said, beckoning to Prince Osten.

Prince Osten strolled into view from off-camera and stood beside his sister. It was funny because I could tell how hard he was trying to be casual and not look nervous. Prince Osten normally look so relaxed, jovial, and at ease. He was an infamous playboy always making the covers of the gossip magazines we sold in our store. However here, he looked vulnerable. He looked scared. 

Prince Osten gave a crooked smile, inhaled, and then said, "Let's go."

"Here are the beautiful ladies coming to the palace to meet our beloved Prince Osten!"

"From Bankston, Miss Genevieve White."

A picture of a beautiful girl with piercing dark brown eyes and long auburn hair flashed across the screen.

"From Angeles, Miss Ashlyn Blake."

"WHAT!" Gemma shrieked. "How is THAT possible? I can't..."

Mom quickly cut her off as the names and pictures continued. 

"From Columbia, Miss Katherine Piaria."

"From Dakota, Miss Hadley Armstrong."

"From Zuni, Miss Alexandra Baker."

I started to zone out until I heard our province's name. 

"From Midston..."

I leaned forward a bit in my chair.

"...Miss Zara Collins!"

In that small second of a moment, it was like the whole world around me froze as the full weight of what I had done came crashing down upon me.