The Competition of a Lifetime (Editing)

Chapter 13: Caleb's POV

It was THAT time.

I could not care less about this part the selection. What if they sent someone I really liked home. This was completely stupid! I am the one choosing the wife, so I have no idea why they have a popularity vote with the public so they could eliminate one of the selected.

It happened the same way during Marcus' selection, but of course Marcus did not care. He was actually more then happy because Marcus was terrible at making decisions, and having the public decide for him was just perfect.

There was only six girls left and I have grown attached to all of them.

That was not suppose to sound clingy or puppy doggish, it's just... It is the elite for crying out loud!

What if they eliminated Gabrielle?

Then I would truly be furious. I know I should not feel specially on just one of the girls exactly yet, but... I always felt something special when I was with Gabrielle. She made that feeling, and kept it warm the whole time she was around.

If the public decided to vote her out, that warm feeling would be gone and I would be left in the cold.

God, not even an extreme workout or any guard training could help de-stress right now. I am about ready to pull my hair out.

I guess being powerless to my own future was irritating. Now that I think about it my whole life I had no choice over. Like I even wanted to be a guard with my brother as King.

I pace back and forth across the hollow wood floor of my room. Finally, I just collapsed on my bed and closed my eyes.

Until I heard the noise of hinges in need of oil.

I look up and position my neck to turn towards the door, as my mother walks in.

"Hey Hun." She said with a little knock on the door, although it was already opened, so I am pretty sure it was just for effect.

"Hey mom," I let out a groan that I had meant to keep in, now she would question me on it.

"Caleb, what's wrong?" She say cross-legged on the edge of my bed and smoothed her dress. It was hard to believe she came from caste five.

"I am just... A little stressed." I said, and that was an understatement.

She looked at me with the look she gave Kaleigh, Marcus, and I when we were kids and that look would make you feel like the kid who stole the last cookie from he jar. I tried to dodge her falcon eyes, but they kept following my eyes and watching their every move.

"A little stressed? Why is there a indention in your pillow?" I turned to look at the lump that I had used as a punching bag. Darn memory foam.

I shrugged as she rubbed my shoulders. That was how she use to calm me from crying fits when I was very young.

Now that I think about it, I never see my mom that often anymore, besides dinner of course. It is like every time I see her, I can only think of memories.

"It gave me neck pains." I shrugged off her question after not thinking of a logical answer quick enough.

She laughed and pointed her finger towards the pillow giving it a stern look.

"Bad pillow!" She shook her pointed finger as we both could not help but laugh.

"Well I know there is something else bothering you, but I hope you feel better," she smiled. It seemed like she always had a certain snark to it, her smile, and it basically told you, "Back talk me and I'll think of a comeback in a second flat".

My mother left me to my thoughts, which I had a lot of at the moment, but couldn't stay awake another minute.

I got settled down as my head fit perfectly in the dent of my pillow. I will just have to see the polls in the paper tomorrow.

---

I had waited outside of the room for at least an hour. I had a right to go in, but my brother would not allow it.

He and my father had been locked up there discussing certain battle strategies without me. Here I was, packing again.

Kaleigh came to me with something that did not seem like a smile, or a frown. She had something, a little crumpled, in her hand shaped like a tube. It was obviously a magazine.

Magazine.

Illèa weekly polls.

The vote.

I ran over to her before she could finish speed walking I me. I began to slid the magazine out of her nimble finger cage before she whacked me with it.

"What are you doing?" She practically yelled, as her echo filled the halls.

"I want to check the polls." I replied meekly going for the magazine again.

"You know, you may be a Prince, but you can still ask for things nicely," she smirked as she threw it at me, and continued to walk down the hall. I caught it quickly as I struggled to get it open in the next five seconds.

I inspected each page carefully, but still at high speed. Finally it came.

Gabrielle was the favorite.

Fourty-one votes.

I look down suddenly to see who I would have to be saying bye to.

Bye Penelope.