Kiera Cass - The Prince

America.

I studied her picture. Her smile was absolutely radiant.

What made her smile so brightly, then? Was it me? Had whatever she felt for me that day passed? She didn’t seem very happy to meet me. But . . . she did smile in the end.

Tomorrow I would have to start fresh with her. I wasn’t sure of what I was looking for, but so much of what seemed right was staring back at me in that photograph. Maybe it was her will or her honesty, maybe it was the soft skin on the back of her hand or her perfume . . . but I knew, with a singular clarity, that I wanted her to like me.

How exactly was I supposed to do that?

I HELD THE BLUE TIE up. No.

The tan? No. Was I going to have this much trouble getting dressed every day?

I wanted to make a good first impression with these girls—and a good second impression with one—

and apparently I was convinced this all hung on picking out the right tie.

I sighed. These girls were already turning me into a puddle of stupid.

I tried to follow my mother’s advice and be myself, flaws and all.

Going with the first tie I’d picked up, I finished getting dressed and smoothed my hair back.

I walked out the door and found my parents by the stairwell having a hushed conversation. I debated taking a back route, not wanting to interrupt them, but my mother waved me over.

Once I reached them, she started tugging on my sleeves, then moved to my back to smooth my coat.

“Remember,” she said, “they’re swarming with nerves, and the thing to do right now is make them feel at home.”

“Act like a prince,” Father urged. “Remember who you are.”

“There’s no rush to make a decision.” Mom touched my tie.

“That’s a nice one.”

“But don’t keep anyone around if you know you don’t want them.

The sooner we get to the true candidates, the better.”

“Be polite.”

“Be confident.”

“Just talk.”

Father sighed. “This isn’t a joke.

Remember that.”

Mom held me at arm’s length.

“You’re going to be fantastic.” She pulled me in for a big hug, and backed away to restraighten everything.

“All right, son. Go on,” Father said, gesturing to the stairs.

“We’ll be waiting in the dining hall.”

I felt dizzy. “Um, yes. Thank you.”

I paused for a minute to catch my breath. I knew they were trying to help, but they’d managed to throw off any sense of calm I’d built. I reminded myself that this was just me saying hello, that the girls were hoping this would work out as much as I was.

And then I remembered that I was going to get to speak to America again. At the very least, that should be entertaining. With that in mind I breezed down the stairs to the first floor and made my way to the Great Room. I took one deep breath and gave a knock on the door before pulling it open.

There, past the guards, waited the collection of girls. Cameras flashed, capturing both their reaction and mine. I smiled at their hopeful faces, feeling calmer just because they all looked so pleased to be here.

“Your Majesty.” I turned and caught Silvia coming up from her curtsy. I nearly forgot that she would be there, instructing them in protocol the way she instructed me when I was younger.

“Hello, Silvia. If you don’t mind, I would like to introduce myself to these young women.”

“Of course,” she said breathlessly, bending again. She could be so dramatic sometimes.

I surveyed the faces, looking for the flame of her hair. It took a moment, as I was a bit distracted by the light glinting off nearly every wrist, ear, and neck in the room. I finally found her, a few rows in on the end, looking at me with a different expression than the others.

I smiled, but instead of smiling back, she looked confused.

“Ladies, if you don’t mind,” I started, “one at a time, I’ll be calling you over to meet with me. I’m sure you’re all eager to eat, as am I. So I won’t take up too much of your time. Do forgive me if I’m slow with names; there are quite a few of you.”

Some of the girls giggled, and I was happy to realize I could identify more of them than I thought I would. I went to the young lady in the front corner, and extended my hand. She took it enthusiastically, and we walked over to the couches that I knew would be set up specifically for this purpose.

Sadly, Lyssa was no more attractive in person than she was in her picture. Still, she deserved the benefit of the doubt, so we spoke all the same.

“Good morning, Lyssa.”

“Good morning, Your Majesty.”

She smiled so widely, it looked like it must hurt her to do so.

“How are you finding the palace?”

“It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. It’s really beautiful here. Gosh, I already said that, didn’t I?”

I answered with a smile. “It’s quite all right. I’m glad you’re so pleased. What do you do at home?”

“I’m a Five. My whole family works exclusively in sculpting. You have some incredible pieces here.

Really beautiful.”

I tried to seem interested, but she didn’t engage me at all. Still, what if I passed on someone for no good reason?

“Thank you. Um, how many siblings do you have?”

After a few minutes of conversation in which she used the word beautiful no less than twelve times, I knew that there was nothing else I wanted to know about this girl.

It was time for me to move on, but it seemed so cruel to keep her here knowing there was no chance for us. I decided that I was going to start making cuts here and now. It would be kinder to the girls, and maybe also impress Father. After all, he did say he wanted me to make some real choices in my life.

“Lyssa, thank you so much for your time. Once I’m done with everyone, would you mind staying a little longer so I could speak with you?”

She blushed. “Absolutely.”

We rose, and I felt awful knowing that she assumed that request meant something it didn’t.

“Would you please send the next young lady over?”

She nodded and curtsied before she went to get the girl beside her, who I recognized immediately as Celeste Newsome. It would take a dim man indeed to forget that face.

“Good morning, Lady Celeste.”

“Good morning, Your Majesty,” she said as she curtsied. Her voice was sugary, and I realized right away that many of these girls might have a hold on me. Maybe all this worry about not being able to love any of them wasn’t the true problem. Maybe I’d fall for all of them and never be able to choose.

I motioned for her to sit across from me. “I understand you model.”

“I do,” she answered brightly, thrilled to see I already knew this about her. “Primarily clothing. I’ve been told I have a good shape for it.”

Of course, at those words, I was forced to look at said shape, and there was no denying just how striking she was.

“Do you enjoy your work?”

“Oh, yes. It’s amazing how photography can capture just a split second of something exquisite.”

I lit up. “Absolutely. I don’t know if you’re aware, but I’m very into photography myself.”

“Really? We should do a shoot sometime.”

“That would be wonderful.”

Ah! This was going better than I thought. Within ten minutes I’d already weeded out a definite no and found someone with a common interest.

I could have probably gone on for another hour with Celeste, but if we were ever going to eat, I really needed to hurry.

“My dear, I’m so sorry to cut this short, but I have to meet everyone this morning,”I apologized.

“Of course.” She stood. “I’m looking forward to finishing our conversation. Hopefully soon.”