Clarissa's POV:

"How's the palace, Clarissa?" Beth asks, finally interrupting our silent march down the hallways.

"It's actually way bett-"

"Beth! Over here!" From across the dining hall, Jack motions for her to join them. He smiles at Beth, and then sees me. "Oh, err...am I interrupting something?" Yes, I want to say, you're interrupting my life. But instead, I wave and smile, turning to Beth.

I don't let her see how much I want her to stay. I want to see where her loyalty is now.

She glances between us for a second, and then sighs, "No, it's fine, be right there."

What? Does the know how much that hurts? To know that my best friend, over the course of a few months, can find someone to replace me?

And then choose this "Boyfriend" over me?

I cringe away from her as she smiles at me and reaches out to touch my arm in a "goodbye" gesture. She doesn't know how much she is saying goodbye too.

Her black eyebrows knit together, and her eyes roam my face, looking for an explanation. I can almost feel another wall sliding up inside of me, I'm so used to it now.

I turn around and walk regally to the door, Beth's voice echoing in my head through the chatter that surrounds me.

Silently, I say goodbye to her. Just as she did months ago.

Goodbye, Elizabeth. I hope your boyfriend never lets you down. I think you deserve someone good.

Alexander's POV:

I pace the floors of my bedroom, where I probably should've worn a path through by now.

My fists clench and unclench. My thoughts spin like a top, and the silence is screaming at me. As my screeching headaches roars on, I try to make sense of my thoughts.

Why do I have to be Prince? Why do I have to have this stupid Selection? I hate it, hate 35 strangers coming into my house, hate being forced to get married to one of them, hate my position. Hate that one day I will have to be King. Hate that that may be scaring off the one girl I really want.

Someone coughs twice, interrupting my train of thoughts.

"Son. Are you coming to breakfast today? Your mother and I were worrying that you might not fe-"

"Don't. I'm fine, just running late." My dad obviously doesn't believe me. He steps forward, placing a hand on my arm as if I am a fragile glass ornament that might fall off of the Christmas tree.

"Alex..." my dad sighs, running his hands through his hair, one of his nervous ticks, "You know you need rest, and the Selected are gone - well, at home - so no one would judge you. We can just say you're tired and worn out from all of the Selected being here. I relax into my dad's grip, and he engulfs me in a hug. I sigh deeply, feeling safe.

Gosh, Alexander. Do you have no tough side at all?

"I-it's not The Selection itself dad, it's this one girl..." I trail off, feeling my cheeks start to burn.

Princes don't blush.

"Clarissa Dossen? Auburn hair, beautiful complexion?"

I gasp, turning away from him, only to see his smirking face. "Uh...how...did you, um...how did you...?"

"Know?" I nod my head sheepishly, feeling very much like a little boy being scolded by his father. "Well, aside from that scene with Bridgette in your room and Clarissa fleeing away from you, and losing her shoe," he casually waves his arm in the direction of my desk, where the shoe is still standing, right where I can always look at it, "you always look at her during meals, I see you trying to catch her after meals, and yesterday, you where caught by her maids, in her room, lying on her bed with her perfume sprayed in the air, need I remind you." He smirks at my red cheeks, and then bursts out laughing.

Nice to see you support me and would never laugh to my face about my feelings, dad.

"But don't worry, your grandpa did almost the same exact thing."

I can't help but smile along with him, for it's so ridiculous. Even though Clarissa probably thinks I'm a lovesick puppy, she doesn't respond to anything I do.

And yes, that hurts a lot. I just like to laugh things off.

I don't say anything, and his eyes soften. "Son, when I went through my Selection, and your grandpa went through his, we had the same thoughts. There was just one girl we couldn't get off our minds."

"Yeah." I wonder if that girl was mom.

"I'm guessing you wish you could speak to her, am I correct?"

"Yes," I groan, an empty feeling rising in me again.

"Then write her letters. She never has to see them, and you can sort of talk to her." A grin appears on my face, momentarily pushing my worries aside.

Here's something I can drown myself in.

He gives me one last smile, and then walks to the door. But I can't help wondering aloud, "For you, was that girl mom?" He knows immediately what I'm talking about, as his back stiffens and his movements slow, his hand right next to the doorknob.

He slowly turns back to me, pain evident on his face. I see a haze go over his eyes, as if he's remembering something. "Dad? Are you okay?"

"No, son, it wasn't her. But don't let that stop you from - " he swallows deeply, "from going after this girl. Show her how you feel, and I hope nothing will get in the way of you two." With a shaky breath, he turns back to the door.

I feel emotions rising up in me. I hate this girl, I hate what she did to my dad, and mostly, I hate that she isn't my mom. Because that means that she's a second choice. I don't want my mom, who should be in love with my dad, and vice versa, to be a second choice.

I know I shouldn't do this to my dad, but I'm to curious and angry to care. "What happened, dad?" He flinches, and I see a tear fall down his face.

What have I done? "Oh, dad, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, I just-"

"No, I understand. Sh-she died, honey. We were married, and then she got cancer, and, and there was no saving her." He wipes at his lonely tear, and I feel like I could cry too.

Princes don't cry. But sons do.

"Y-you got married?" He makes a sound of anguish in the back of his throat, but from the determined look on his face I know he wants to tell me everything.

Walking shakily over to my bed, he lies down.

"Come here, son." I lie down next to him, feeling the bed shift under my weight. "I should have told you this a long time ago, but...your mother, she- she didn't give birth to you." My breath hitches in my throat uncomfortably, silencing any sobs that might come up.

"What?" I barely whisper it.

"Your birth mother is Evangeline Collins."

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Hello! Thank you so much for reading! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, I enjoyed writing it. Please vote, comment, and follow! The photo above is the outfit Clarissa's wearing