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Clarissa's POV:

After being dragged back to my cell, painfully, my guards told me not to sleep. Your Mother has a surprise for you, and we wouldn't want to sleep only to be awakened so soon, would we? They snickered, and laughed at me.

Everything feels dull. Dull, and unreal. It still baffles me that my Mother is the leader of a group of people that have injured and killed so many.

Although, when I think about it, there were a few hints. Her enthusiasm and obsessiveness over having the Royal's trust, her red choker, and her power hungry ego.

I think about myself, wondering how much of that she gave to me. Her temper, that's for sure. Her lack of patience, her ambition. Physically, her auburn hair and height.

My Dad, though, gave me the ability to stay grounded. The ability to not be swept up in glamour, lights and cameras always flashing, and anything one could ever want at their fingertips. He gave me calmness when I really need it, something to battle with my fiery temper. And, as I grew up, he gifted me with love and affection. My Dad, I knew, and know, that I can trust with anything.

I let my mind wander, thinking about arbitrary things. I wonder what Alexander's doing, and what time it is. Has he woken up yet? Does he know we are missing? If so, does he miss me? Has he thought of me? Questions buzz around in my mind.

I take a deep breath, again preparing myself for whatever waits for me. I let my temper fuel my strength, inwardly thanking my Mother for that. Whatever is coming next, I can face it, beat it, and win.

§§§§§

Alexander's POV:

I'm only half awake as my sister jumps on my bed, causing my mattress to shift beneath me. I groan, but am still pleased by her affectionate and energetic actions.

Sometimes, it feels like she is the only one in the Palace who is genuinely happy.

"Gill, why?" I ask her, already knowing the answer.

She takes a deep breath, and shakes her head at me accusingly. "You know why, Xander." I laugh a little at her nickname for me, then look at her with wide eyes. "Do I need to say it again?" She asks pleadingly.

"Yup." She grins at me, so accustomed to our morning routine that she could perform it for anyone as a solo act.

"You have fifteen beautiful girls waiting for you, and you need to go to breakfast so they don't worry! Their hearts might be broken, and- get out of bed!" She is a hopeless romantic, much like myself on the inside.

I laugh, stepping out of bed in my black silk pajamas. I look around my room as the morning light bathes the dark floors and starch white walls adorned with photos of me and my family and friends.

My dark blue covers are tangled, thrown everywhere on my bed from my sister's jumping. I point to the door, and as she is still in her nightgown, tell her, "You have to get ready too! Go!"

She laughs, and walks over to me, hugging me quickly before walking out the door. "Alright, older brother."

In the mornings, and every normal day, I choose to pick out my clothes and get ready on my own, without my maids. For special occasions, however, I have my maids help me.

Humming the song Clarissa loved so much last night under my breath, I smile widely as I remember her surety in our relationship. I love her, I just don't know if she quite believes it yet. But last night, she did. Last night, everything was perfect.

I hurry up, energized by the thought of seeing her today. I know last night was special to her, but everyone was included in that. I want to do something for her, something that she will never forget, no matter what happens.

Finally, I am ready to go downstairs. I walk out of my room, and the guards outside close the door behind me, respectfully wishing me a good morning.

I bound down the stairs, surprised to not here the light chatter and click of heels from The Selected. I brush it off, knowing they must already be at breakfast. I was running a little late anyways.

As I walk quickly to breakfast, I run into a maid by accident. "I'm so sorry," I say hurriedly, helping her up from the ground. She smiles at me, but it seems pitying.

I knit my eyebrows together slightly, confused by her expression. "Are you alright?" I continue.

"Yes, your Highness. Thank you." She excuses herself with a curtsey and picks something off of the floor. It's a letter that she dropped when we collided. She makes her way forward, and enters the Dining Room.

No light chatter and clanking of silverware reaches my ears, and I knit my eyebrows together even more. What is this?

I shake it off once again, thinking that everyone must be tired from last night. I am.

The guards bow to me as I walk in...to...nothing. A table set with fresh steaming pancakes, fruit, and bowls of whipped creme, but none of The Selected, only my parents and sister sitting in their usual places, all looking confused.

"What's going on?" I ask as the maid who I bumped into rushes past me, leaving the room. I see the letter she was carrying in my Father's hands. "Father?"

"Come here, son." He says anxiously. "I think this regards where The Selected are."

They are okay, they are okay. I chant inside my head. Although, that's improbable. I breathe nervously.

The seconds crawl by as he opens the letter and reads it. I stand in front of him, trying to read his face for emotion. He looks shocked, and nervous.

Suddenly, he's angry. "Damn it!" He slams his fist down on the table, then puts his head in his hands. "I'm so sorry, Alexander. Last night, The Selected where kidnapped by the Rebels."

I gasp, not fully processing what he said. "So- they're all gone? Do we know where they are?" I start breathing deeply, trying to get enough air into my body.

Clarissa is gone. Emerald, Hope, Eleanor, Krista, everyone. A tiny part of me aches for every one of them, even if I don't have feelings for them.

I wave my hands spastically in front of me, knowing I can do nothing about the situation but needing to do something.

"We don't know, but this letter was sent from the Rebels telling us to watch The Report. It seems they are going to broadcast something to the whole country, I don't know how though." My Mom and sister look at me sadly, and then stand up at the same time.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Mom asks with a look on her face that tells me you'll get through this. You're not alone.

The screen is static, the noise blocking out sound just as I wish to block out the world around me. I feel crushed, hopeless, and robbed. Tears swell in my eyes, but I blink them away. Stay strong.

All of a sudden the screen changes to a view of the fifteen Selected. I scan them, and while they look tired and dirty, they don't look harmed. Clarissa looks determined. I smile, knowing that that is so her. Even in a life or death situation, she stays strong, just like I need to be now, for her.

Clarissa may look fine, but the rest of them are in tears. Still, I breathe a sigh of relief at their state of well being so far.

A woman with Clarissa's red hair walks into the screen. I look between her and Clarissa, and see many resemblances between them.

It seems my family notices too, as they all gasp. Father quickly looks at Mom. "That's Arielle Dossen, Clarissa's mother! Has she been kidnapped too?"

I wish that had happened, however; I think she is a rebel herself. She holds herself with such importance, such pride in her accomplishments.

I wish I could cause her pain double the pain I'm feeling right now.

But does that level of emotional pain actually exist?

"Hello, Sarrione. Greetings, Your Majesties. I hope you all are doing well, and that we have not caused you too much stress." She wears a suit, looking professional. I don't support her one bit, but that was a smart move. Male figures are given more power in our society than women - that needs to change - and by wearing something that males wear, she is telling us all that she is powerful and not to be messed with.

I scoff at her arrogance. "It's obvious she leads them. Son, don't work yourself up to much," my Father says worriedly.

"I'm fine." I snap. He doesn't need to worry about my every move.

Arielle continues, and I wonder how Clarissa lived with this woman for most of her life. "I don't want to drag this out, so I should cut to the chase." Please, do! I think sarcastically. "I am the leader of the 'rebels,' as you call us." She gives a small smile, only turning her lips up a little. "We have kidnapped your Selected - don't you think we did a great job? - and now we plan to see who is Prince Alexander's favorite! This will be fun, don't you think, girls?"

She looks to the Selected. My hatred for her grows in every single movement she makes.

"I hope you're watching Alexander. We are watching you." How? Father signals for guards to search the room for cameras.

Her every word digs a hole deep inside me, that can never be filled. Say something, I want to say to Clarissa. I'm giving up.

"Dante, bring out the knife."

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Thank you all so much for reading, voting, and commenting! It really means so much to me.

If you have suggestions or corrections for this story, always let me know! Again, this is not edited, and I wrote it really quickly, so if there are any mistakes let me know please ;)

Finally, for the important part. I have to end this story somewhere (it's going to be a series of books, like The Selection), but I'm not sure how many more chapters to have and how to end it.

40? (as a total, so two more chapters, the last one being longer) I'm leaning towards this, as I could leave the story at a cliffhanger *cue evil laugh*, and I could finally move to another book, another chapter in Clarissa's journey.

50?

Cliffhanger? I know you guys generally don't like cliffhangers, but I feel that it would be a good way to end the first book.

Or, *dramatic gasp of surprise* tie the story up. I honestly think that would be boring, but please comment your thoughts!

Thanks!