27Prince Wyatt Gabriel Schreave of Illea's Pov
I anxiously shift from foot to foot outside the big mahogany door, waiting for it to open. I can hear my father's expensive watch ticking away the seconds, and my sister's high heel slowly tapping along with it. They must be late. Again.
One would think that the rulers of a country would always be on time. Not the Solenian family. Queen Nesryn has some idea in her head that being "fashionably late" makes a good impression. Not on the Illean Royal Family, it doesn't.
"Wyatt, stop shifting. It isn't very proper," my mother, Queen Isolde, chides from across the room. I stop rocking. My mother, of course, is quiet. She always gets quiet when we meet the Solenians. Her own best friend was killed personally by Queen Nesryn during my father's selection, and she has never been comfortable with the idea of a country ruled by the Southern Rebels. No one in Illea is. Yet it is our new reality since we lost the Civil War.
The door remains closed. My sister, Elara, is still tapping her shoe. I am just starting to give up when the door opens. I jump backwards a little bit and Elara snorts. She may be graceful, but her laugh is the furthest thing from elegant. My heart starts beating faster. Time to face Jameson.
Prince Jameson Solenian of Imperia, the Crown Prince of Illea. According to everyone he is handsomer than me, more confident than me, a better ruler than me.
I beg to differ on the last point. I know that Jameson spends more time in nightclubs getting drunk than reading and writing.
Elara pokes me. "Earth to Wyatt. We're moving." I nearly startle again, but regain my composure in time to walk through the doors and into the hall of Imperia's meeting room, located in Spero, their outermost province. The meeting room is designed to be firmly divided. The side that my family is entering on is embellished with a few Illea crests, and the side where the Imperian Royal Family stands is embellished with Imperian crests, a symbol of an eagle with a sword caught in its mouth, staring you down as if it would like nothing better than to slash you to pieces with it. I gulp.
We make it to the middle of the room, right up to the fence that divides each side. My father, as the King, takes the center of the podium. My mother takes a deep breath and stands at his right, and Elara and I stand to the left, me first, and her on the end.
My father stands face-to-face with Queen Nesryn Solenian. Once a simple rebel, she fought in the Civil War and became very beloved among the ranks of the Southern Rebels for her sharp mind and cold, fearless attitude. To her right stands her husband, Carlos, and her three children, Jameson, Oryn, and Aurelia, stand to her right.
Jameson meets my eyes and gives me a curt nod. I notice his suit is more wrinkled then usual, and he has bags under his eyes. He doesn't smile. I haven't seen him smile once in his life. His brother Oryn hangs back a bit, his eyes downcast. He is a rather reserved person. He looks almost as nervous as I do. Aurelia's dark hair is pulled up into a ponytail, perfectly elegant. She wears a smile as she gazes at her mother. Her confidence surrounding her like a cloud. Elara rolls her eyes in her direction. Something about Aurelia annoys her. Most everything merits an eyeroll from Elara, though. I know from experience that she doesn't like most people.
Queen Nesryn suddenly speaks, quickly and curtly, to the butlers who opened the doors for us. "You are dismissed." She doesn't even bother to say thank you. I can see that this bothers my mother, but my father isn't fazed. "Favian," Nesryn adresses my father, "My apologies for the late start. Our airplane took off a bit later than we planned."
Elara taps me on the shoulder and quietly whispers, "More like she stopped for Coffee and stayed for fifteen minutes." My father gives Elara a look and she shrugs, not caring about his judgement. Elara is right. That sounds an awful lot like Nesryn. She loves having control over us, and we let her to avoid violence.
"Good day, Nesryn," my father says, "I understand completely. Do you have any matters you would like to discuss?" That is my father, always trying to be reasonable, even though I know he would love to scream at Nesryn. He has his own reasons to be angry at the Royals, the Southern Rebels killed his own parents, King Xavier and Queen Felicity, and his younger sister, Princess Eveline. My father hasn't been the same since, and though his anger is evident in private, he protects his country by agreeing with Nesryn on everything. I love my father, but I wish he would stand up to Queen Nesryn sometime. I know that I never could, but I wish that he would.
"Yes, I do actually have a few things to discuss with you. Not as many as usual, but a few small things."
"Go right ahead. I have something I wish to discuss as well."
In Nesryn dives. I begin to zone out. I catch something about a group of musicians who tried to enter Imperia without documentation, something about New Asia becoming more hostile, and something about Oryn being engaged to the Princess of the German Federation. After my father has issued his warmest congratulations, he begins to speak.
"Nesryn, thank you very much for your time, and before we part ways, I would like to propose an idea to you. As you probably know, both of our eldest sons have recently come of age, and are of age to marry. I know that the country is confused and scared, and I think it would be excellent idea to revive an old Illean tradition, the Selection. One Selection will take place in Illea, with all Illean girls, and one in Imperia, with Imperian girls. It could be excellent…"
A Selection. A Selection, for me? I'm not ready, I'm too awkward, what of something happens to one of them like it did in Dad's selection? What if...what if?
In a split second, Jameson and I meet eyes. He looks cold, but I can see in his eyes that he is sad. I must look just as panicked as I feel, because he raises his eyebrows at me and looks away.
"No," Queen Nesryn replies, standing on edge, "Favian, Illea and Imperia are seperate countries. The Selection is meant to unite a country, and Illea and Imperia are not meant to be united."
My father takes a deep breath. So there. No Selection. I can breathe easy.
"Nesryn, my intention is not to physically unite Illea and Imperia. I do not have the power to do that. My intention is that I think our individual countries need some uniting, and a Selection will help with that while finding suitable brides for our sons. It is all meant individually." My heart seems to lurch again, this time from shock. My father finally argued his own perspective instead of going with Queen Nesryn. My mother grins, and Elara nods her support.
Nesryn is silent, looking down at the podium she stands on, her eyes stormy. She stays quiet. Her husband, Prince Consort Carlos, approaches her and places his hand on her shoulder.
"Nesryn," he whispers, "Come on, it'll be good for the country." Nesryn sighs. Well, it must be happening. Nesryn can never say no when her husband is involved.
"Alright. Alright, Favian," Nesryn says, her proud air returned, "A selection it is. We'll announce it tomorrow on the report, and I trust that you will do the same?"
"Yes, of course."
"Very good. So long for now, Favian, Isolde, Wyatt and Elara."
"Goodbye, Nesryn. Thank you again for your time." My father steps down from his podium, takes my mother by the arm, and they set off walking briskly. As Elara takes my arm and we begin to walk out, I can feel the piercing eyes of Nesryn Solenian burning a hole in my suit.
As our official Private Airplane touches down in the Angeles airport, it is past noon. I almost forget how long the plane ride is.
"Really Wy-Wy, you should have seen your face when Dad announced it. You looked so panicked, I thought you might have wet your pants," Elara laughs in my face.
"Honestly Lara? Real classy."
Sooner or later we have left the airplane and are in our limo, heading back to the palace. Suddenly, my father's phone buzzes. He takes it out and his eyes almost pop when he sees who it is. He lifts his phone to his ear and begins talking a mile a minute.
"Major Lithgow? What's wrong? Is something wrong?" Silence on the other end, my father puts his head in his hands. I look to Elara and she looks nervous. My mother is shaking my father's arm, trying to get him to tell her something. He is silent.
After what seems like a million years worth of vague chatter, my father puts down his phone. He only utters a single word, though it is enough to induce a frenzy of panic.
"Rebels."
When we reach the palace, we are lead straight inside, past guards, police officers, and all sorts of fear induced officials. We pass maids who are hysterically crying, and my father's advisors, who are all trying to talk to him at once. Major Lithgow, the head of the guards, leads us straight to the doors of my father's study, puts a hand on his shoulder, and opens the door.
The most horrific sight meets my eyes. I almost throw up right then and there. In the middle of the room lie about five maids, all dead, with blood pouring out of different parts of their body. One of them is my sister's head maid, Addison. She was so young. So young and innocent.
The bodies are laid out in a circle. Above the cries of my sister I hear something peculiar coming from the center of the circle. Eerie music fills the room, surrounding my eardrums, pulling me in.
The Southern Rebels swore to never attack us again if we let them keep their country. This couldn't be them. It couldn't.
Could it?
A/N: Hello everyone! Omg I can't believe I published this! Ahhhh! I was a guest on here for a long time (I went by Smiley) and I had always wanted to write a story. This idea has been floating around in my head for a long time, and I can;t wait to write it!
As you might have guessed this story is an SYOC for girls, a double SYOC, in fact. In this universe, Illea is no longer one country. It has split into two countries, one controlled by Illea and the other controlled by the Southern Rebels. The Crown Princes of each country, Prince Wyatt and Prince Jameson, are going to be having twin selections in their respective countries. We heard from Wyatt in this chapter, but don't worry, the next chapter will be all about Jameson and his family.
Most of the information for this story (including the form) is located on my profile, but just some rules:
Submit my PM or review. I should know how annoying it is when SYOCs are not review friendly, so go for it! Anything goes!
Include as much detail as possible, I really want to portray your girl correctly.
Constructive criticisim is ok! I know I am new and make mistakes, and I would like to get better.
Not a rule, but if you have a Pinterest account, please make a board for your character and send it to me. It helps a lot. My username is Cbcole.
Have fun!
Also, I would just like to give a huge thank you to the Positivity Train. You guys know who you are! Thank youuuuuu so much for believing in this story even when it was just a string of Pinterest messages. You guys are the best!
I can't wait to see your girls!