DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Selection trilogy. The universe, all characters, basic plot setup, etc were created by the lovely Kiera Cass.

- Princess in Training: Chapter 1-

It had been two weeks since my near elimination, and I was still trying to settle back into the competition. My maids had been a blessing – constructing increasingly beautiful gowns and giving me earnest, enthusiastic support and encouragement. They were my refuge from the rest of the palace residents.

The king openly disdained me. He took every opportunity to subtly insult and belittle me, and I had to bite my tongue to avoid any rash responses. Even more humiliating was that he often had an audience for this abuse. The other girls would smirk and glance at each other as if to reassure one another that I was not long for the palace.

While Kriss and Elise had been diplomatic about my remaining over Natalie, Celeste was, well, Celeste. The first moment we were alone, both on our way to the Women's Room, she backed me against a wall and told me she would do whatever it took to get me out of the competition. Then she very purposefully latched onto the delicate ribbon sleeve of my latest beautiful dress, and pulled, tearing it down the length of my front so that I had to run clumsily to my room to change. The guard on duty looked both alarmed and sympathetic as I frantically pushed past him into the safety of my own quarters.

My guards had been strangers since my return. Aspen could barely look at me when he returned to my room to find me giggling happily with my maids. I had told him I was going home to nurse a broken heart, that I needed time before I could be with him, that my adventures in the palace were over, except that I had stayed. I had stayed for another man. I never got the chance to explain to him what had happened, although I wasn't sure that would help. Since that moment, there were new guards at my door. He must have switched posts. Now I would see him occasionally in passing, but there was no way to catch him alone to talk. It would be too dangerous to try at this point, anyway, with the king keeping a close watch over my actions.

And the person I was suffering through all this abuse and uncertainty for, the man I had stayed to fight for, he had been – polite. After the night we had shared in the safe room, Maxon and I had barely spent any time in private together. Now we would have a few stolen moments in the gardens or the halls before we were interrupted by his father, or Celeste, or some important matter of the country that had to be dealt with immediately.

I just had to keep reminding myself not to be too discouraged. I was given a second chance, and while it would be harder to redeem myself than to begin with a clean slate, I would do my absolute best to turn the tide.

I gave myself this pep talk every morning before breakfast. Sometimes it helped.

We had gathered in the Women's Room on Saturday, waiting on some instructions from Sylvia. Kriss had been missing since after breakfast, but we all had a good idea of where she was. Celeste lazily leafed through one of her gossip magazines, while Elise and I strained to make some casual conversation. Sylvia paced back and forth, waiting for the final member of our group. Finally, Kriss raced in, looking flushed and happy. I began to grow uncomfortably hot as I imagined all the situations she might have come from to look like that.

"So sorry I'm late!" she breathed out as she dashed gracefully into an armchair in front of Sylvia. She didn't need to elaborate any more on why she was late.

Sylvia immediately launched into her spiel. "As you have probably noticed, we have not had you at the Reports for the past two weeks. We have been recovering from the last rebel attack, as well as fallout from your last Report." She looked meaningfully at me then. I directed my gaze at the floor, waiting for the unwelcome attention to pass.

Sylvia had not forgiven me for my rash actions on the Report. She had trusted me and been encouraged by my interest in learning, and I had betrayed her trust. She had grudgingly agreed to continue giving me additional training in political action and etiquette, but where she had previously been warm and enthusiastic, she was now coldly observant.

"Next week you will be back on the Report," she continued, "doing interviews with Gavril Fadaye and the royal family. This will be another excellent chance to allow the public to get to know you, and to see how you would fit in with the royal family. You will be talking about your time in the Selection, your relationship with Prince Maxon, and some of the goals you hope to accomplish if you become Princess. This final part will be something of an extension to your philanthropic presentations. I have some sample questions so that you can rehearse answers, and I will be meeting with each of your personally on Thursday to practice."

She handed Elise, Celeste, and Kriss thin folders. One folder remained in her hands.

"America, I have some additional instructions for you. The king has requested that I give you extra attention, to make sure your answers are…sufficient." I felt my face turn red as I noticed Celeste smirk at me while Elise and Kriss exchanged glances.

"Girls, feel free to get started on your answers. America, please follow me." Sylvia turned and started briskly from the room, not even looking back to make sure I was following. I leaped up, stumbling over the hem of my dress. One of the "improvements" my maids had made was tighter fitting dresses. This certainly didn't help me improve my grace and poise, since I could barely move now with the constricting skirts. I was beginning to understand why Celeste always had those slits up to her thigh.

I raced out of the Women's Room to see Sylvia racing down the left corridor. I stumbled along behind her, finally catching up by the time we'd reached the end of the hall. She glanced around her surreptitiously before producing a thick key and swiftly unlocking a heavy wooden door tucked in a back corner of the dimly lit corridor.

She swooped inside and I followed close behind her. When I was inside she quickly and quietly shut the door and locked it behind us. We stood at the landing of a steep set of stone stairs the curled up into darkness.

"Where are we-" I began to question her.

"Not here," she whispered sharply, cutting me off.

She began to climb, and even though I could hear her breathing grow heavier, she didn't slow her pace. The stairway was barely illuminated by the occasional narrow window cut into the wall. As we moved steadily upwards and away from the light and warmth of the palace, I pondered all of the reasons I was being led on this strange path. Did Maxon arrange a secret meeting, away from the prying eyes of his father and the other girls? Or did the king want to catch me completely alone, where Maxon couldn't come to my rescue and he could knock me out of the Selection for good? Or was Sylvia somehow involved with the rebels, and they had snuck into the palace to kidnap me?

After what felt like ten minutes of climbing straight up and imagining increasingly absurd and upsetting scenarios, we reached another thick, wooden door. This time, Sylvia knocked, two long beats and then three short ones. A moment later the door creaked open, and Queen Amberly stood before us.