The Royal Games

Chapter 2

Recap:

I offer him a small smile, hand him my forms and stand. I turn and leave. As I walk away, I know only one thing for sure.

I know it's just the beginning.

The Selection

It's been two weeks since travelling to Phoenix to have my pictures taken and submitting my forms. It's been three weeks since the presidents announcement and 2 weeks, 6 days since receiving my letter of joy from president Carter.

And today is the dreaded day. It's 10.30am and I am sat on the sofa in our living room nervously chewing on my already bitten down nails. My poor nails have had it bad these past few weeks. In half an hour, President Carter comes onto TV to announce the 60 'lucky winners' and at 12 o' clock, the selected will receive letters with all the details and instructions for the next stage.

Oh joy of joy. All I can do now is pray I am not chosen. Pray that my act of defiance in make up and dress was noticed in the palace and enough to put me in the 'no way thank you' pile. No one would want a rebellious Princess right? Right, well just back to praying. It's all I can do now.

➰➰➰

At 11am exactly, the President is on TV ready to change 60 girls lives forever.

"Good morning America! Today is the day you've all been waiting for. It's a big day for us all and our young ladies. I hand over now to Mark Wilson who is in charge of correspondence between America and England for the purposes of 'The Selection'!"

The president leaves the screen and is replaced by another man who looks to be in his late 30's. Mark offers the camera a wide smile before he opens his mouth.

"Thank you for that introduction President Carter. Good morning all and thank you for your cooperation! I am pleased to announce the palace has sent back 60 names back to us. Allow me to announce the lucky ones in alphabetical order.

Laura Anders!

Hillary Atkins!

Josie Benny!"

The list continues on and I tune out. As he announces the names, the two pictures taken appear on the screen. The screen with his face has permanently shrunk to the bottom left of the screen. The top left is where the photo of the girl's face is shown and the whole right side is where the image showing the whole girl is placed. Their name pops up in a flashing banner at the top of the screen.

I can feel my heart racing, bursting to escape my chest. I pity my heart, held captive in my chest behind the bars of my ribcage. It aches to be free, just like me. It longs for the choice to choose who to love.

I stand to leave but mother sends me a withering glare so loaded I am quick to sit back down and turn my attention back to the TV.

"Phoebe Kinsman."

They're up to 'k' and he's already on girl number 37.

Sighing, I tune out again and start to think. I think about how my family would feel if I had to leave. How I'd feel...

My thoughts are interrupted by the loud squealing of my mother and sister. Confused, I re-focus and find two pictures of a very familiar girl on the TV staring back at me.

"Rosaline Princeton!" Mark's voice booms and I flinch, his voice suddenly seeming too loud and aggressive. I shrink back into my seat. I study the pictures and have to admit that I look beautiful. I'm not trying to boast, trust me I'm the least vain girl you'll find but the photos are very flattering. The full length one shows me in my sweatpants but the pose I've struck looks managed to make me look both innocent and cute. My smile is sweet and I can almost believe the girl in the picture wanted this; to be in 'The Selection'. Almost.