Dear Juliet (Chosen Sequel) (The Selection Fanfic)

Seven.

My palms were sweating, my head was buzzing and my heart was pounding. I guess you could say I was not at all nervous to be meeting 35 complete strangers at 9:32 in the morning.

I wiped my hands down the sides of my dress before biting the bullet and pushing the doors open cringing as I applied a greater force than I had anticipated resulting in the doors crashing against the walls and 35 masculine heads turning to meet my flushed cheeks.

Not how I was hoping this moment would pan out.

A wild breath escaped my lips at such a speed that a cough spluttered from my lips heightening the awkwardness in the room. It was probably best if I spoke now, to avert the awkward tension.

"Good morning gentlemen, please be seated. I will be meeting you all individually in just a moment so please enjoy the food for now." For many of you may not be here beyond this meal.

I looked round at the horrified expressions flushing red again when I realised that I said that last part aloud.

I let my eyes roam the room before meeting the dreamy eyes of Mr Alfie Redrow and gestured for him to follow me. I led him out the hall and into the hallway where we would hold our short meetings.

"Well this is slightly awkward isn't it?" He chuckled when I sat him down at a window seat.

"Why ever would that be?" I asked feigning innocence.

"Well I clearly was unaware of your royal position when I asked if you were an artist. I was actually quite worried that I was falling for this beautiful redhead in the skinny jeans when my attention should've been focused on the princess. But, alas, it seems that my dreams have come true as that pretty red head and the princess have a lot in common."

"That was pretty cheesy," I said fighting the raging blush that was slithering up my neck.

"I'm a pretty cheesy guy."

"Well we cannot be here all day so can you please send in the next gentleman please?"

I sped through suitor and through suitor getting a migraine from the speed dating. As more and more faces speed past my eyes, I grew fearful of how I was ever supposed to remember all of their names; each of them appeared to be copies of the same perfect doll, all in competition over either me or the crown.

I had almost given up when the next suitor swept into the hallway, his presence embodying the entire stretch of space.

"Michael Cambridge, it's a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, your highness."

Boy he was handsome.

I wasn't the type to jump on any attractive guy they lay their eyes on and I certainly wasn't going to marry him for his looks but there was no denying that there was an air of sophistication about him. And obviously I was royalty so there would be no "jumping on".

"Trust me the pleasure's all mine," I sighed treating my eyes like a mathematical protractor examining the angle of his jawline, before quickly shaking my head at my improperness.

I cleared my throat in attempt to cover my crude comment. It was most unlike me.

"So, Michael, tell me, what do you do for a living?"

"I'm glad you asked, your highness. I am a professional wine taster..."

And then I tuned out. I did everything in my power to stifle a laugh. I know that from the outside my job as a princess looked easy but surely nobody made actual money from tasting wine.

Realising that I was no longer listening, Michael cleared his throat and began to ask questions about myself, what my favourite food was, what I did in my spare time, etcetera... It was a nice sentiment but it felt too rehearsed, too polished, I guess. It was like he had been trained to ask these questions and did not genuinely care to know the answer.

I mimicked his robotic questions with robotic answers. It didn't feel appropriate to present heartfelt revelations about my character to a total stranger who, by my accounts, was more infatuated by my royal position than me.

"I guess we do not wish to overrun, please send in the next gentleman."

As soon as the door closed on the back of Michael Cambridge I let out a visible sigh of relief. My head was spinning, I truly felt more unsettled after meeting over two thirds of my suitors. Other than Mr Redrow, I felt no instant connection to anyone. They were all too polite, too polished and too perfect, I did not want to be in an unbalanced relationship where they felt they had to act a certain way around me, likewise, I want to feel like I can be myself too.

I kept my hands busy rearranging my dress around me seated form and combing my fingers through my red curls when the door suddenly swung open with a mighty thump causing my heart to beat at a completely unreasonable pace.

Leaning against the doorframe, a pair of steel blue eyes locked onto mine narrowing slightly the more seconds that passed. My own eyes darted to a few metres down the hall where a guard was stationed watching as his eyes locked onto the tall figure in the doorway.

That moment lasted for what seemed like forever, the three of us trapped in an endless triangle. That was until the figure in the doorway broke it by sauntering towards me and taking the seat beside me, the train of my silk dress trapped beneath his military boots as he cocked his leg up to rest his arm on it.

I was beyond speechless and it had only been a few moments. All of the other men took a bow before me of even kissed my hand, but not him. He had an unusual aura to him, like somehow he was equal to me rather than beneath me. It was intriguing.

Sensing that he was not the one who would make the first move I cleared my throat and made my introduction, "Welcome to the palace, I am Princess Juliet, and you are?"

I knew who he was, I needn't have asked. Wyatt Hones, I had studied his profile earlier in the day. He was an ex-military officer discharged from his post a year ago after being the singular survivor of an explosion off of one of Illéa's many islands that he was stationed at. Reports suggested he had the potential to suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder but he's continuously denied it, and refused therapy.

"Wyatt, your highness," he spoke after at least ten beats. His tone was less than polite, it actually felt like he was mocking my royal title.

I believe that any other royal would find offence in this but I actually let out a genuine chuckle. This man had some, excuse my language, balls. I liked that.

"So Wyatt, tell me a bit about yourself."

After a moment of hesitation he did start to open up. He told me about his family and his home town. He seemed surprised when he looked over at me and noticed that I was listening to him. To be fair that was a slight understatement, I was hanging onto his every word.

The more he spoke the more I noticed how he managed to skirt completely around his time serving in the military, there was especially no mention of his time on the island where the explosion occurred. It was like he was ashamed to mention it.

"It has been a pleasure making your acquaintance," I whispered bowing my head as he got up from his post next to me.

"Likewise," he whispered, mimicking my soft tone, "Princess."