Chosen by the Princess

Chapter 1-2

“Kit,” Eli said, tipping his head to the side, causing her cheeks to pink as she imagined he would say something to further disconcert her. “Just remember, the ceremony is to prevent someone from being your first. It’s not as if Mikali’s actions will have any sort of bearing on anything else that happens to you. The ceremony doesn’t define you. It only prevents you from giving undue affection to someone who has not earned it. It’s completely medical in nature and nothing more.”

It wasn’t what she had been expecting to hear, so it took her a moment to formulate a response. She brushed her hair back again, even though it hadn’t moved since the last time. “Do you honestly think it isn’t something I should be so concerned about?”

“Not at all,” he said, and even though she could hear that tone in his voice, the one she knew presented itself whenever he was trying to make light of a situation despite his true feelings, in this instance, she decided perhaps it would behoove her to buy into it. “It’s nothing really. It will be over in a few moments. And even though the court will be there, the sheets will prevent anyone from actually seeing anything.”

She knew all of this. Her older cousins, Avinia and Isla, had both been through the ceremony before. Now, since they served as her ladies-in-waiting, they had given her every detail of what to expect, which might be part of the reason why she was dreading it so. Avinia, who was eight years her senior, had already been through her Choosing. Her ceremony had not been nearly as elaborate as Kit’s would be, seeing as though Avinia was only a duchess and not a princess, Kit was still grateful to have someone so close to her already transitioned and married. Isla, who would turn twenty-one in the spring, had just ended her Exploration, and was in the weeks of Respite necessary before her own Choosing would commence during the summertime. Kit vowed to pay better attention this time so that she could learn firsthand what the process was like. Isla would choose only from ten men selected by the royal court, not a Representative from all forty-two provinces as Kit would, but it would still be similar to Kit’s own Choosing. It all seemed so overwhelming to her now. She stood on a precipice with her future spread out before her in all the vibrant shades of a rolling landscape with hills and valleys and dark chasms below, and nothing was clearly in focus--but one wrong move would result in a long fall.

Eli’s comments reminded her that Avinia had said her Proem had hurt quite a bit, that the stretching and ripping had caused some bleeding at the time and discomfort for days. That made Kit’s stomach tighten again, despite his hopefulness. Isla, on the other hand, had said it hadn’t hurt at all, that she’d hardly noticed anything, and that it hadn’t been until her Exploration, when she’d taken to the son of a visiting nobleman, just a few days past her Clearing, the week that followed the Proem, that the true pain had struck. Avinia opined that perhaps this was because Mikali was growing old and was no longer able to fulfill the requirements of the procedure as he had been for everyone else he’d serviced, dating back to when her grandmother was a girl of eighteen, but Kit feared it would be her luck that the physician would find some sort of second wind and that she’d be struck with the same pain and agitation as her oldest cousin, Avinia. Despite the fact that she was reminded time and again the Proem was more of a medical procedure than any sort of pleasuring, the entire ceremony was a weight on her worried mind.

Another question lingered on the tip of her tongue, one she had longed to ask Eli even before the approaching Exploration came into focus a few months ago, but she stopped herself, not sure if it was her business to ask. She readjusted, smoothing her gown down over her legs again. It wasn’t that she didn’t know if it was appropriate or not. She was quite certain it wasn’t, and yet, when she turned back to look at him, the question was there nonetheless. “You’ve… that is to say… a gentleman of your stature and good looks, I’m sure you’ve been called upon to pleasure a woman from time to time, haven’t you?”

The heat rose in her cheeks and was matched by the crimson she noted slowly climbing his neck. Perhaps she had overstepped, but then, he of all people would be used to that from her. “Kit,” he said, shaking his head slightly and running a hand through his hair. “Are you certain you want to ask that question?”

“I’m afraid I already have,” she admitted and a nervous giggle passed between the pair of them. “I don’t suppose that means you must answer it, however.”

“It’s not that I necessarily mind answering it,” he began, brushing the toe of his boot into the carpet of green velvet beneath them. “It’s only, I’m not sure I see the purpose in the asking. Or the answering.”

“No, I suppose there isn’t one,” she said, with a shrug, as if it had been an impulsive question and not one she’d actually contemplated asking him aloud. “It’s just… my other friends, my ladies, my cousins, they’ve all shared their stories with me, and I realized I’d never asked you. Perhaps you’d have some further insight.” She hoped she’d at least managed to save a little face with her explanation, even if she had just thought of it.

He raised his eyebrows as he studied her for a moment, and Kit felt the blush in her cheeks again and had to look away. “I’m sure you know enough, then, to understand it would be quite different from my perspective.”

“I suppose the act itself must be,” she said quickly. “But not the intimacy involved. I have heard many elders say through the years that there are no emotions connected to pleasuring someone you hardly know, that it’s all about the moment, the act itself, but I wonder if that’s true. I was thinking… surely there has to be more to it than that, doesn’t there?”

“You’re asking a man if s*x has an emotional component?” he asked, still shocked at her inquisition. “Wouldn’t your mother say a man is incapable of feeling anything other than l**t? Passion perhaps, but not love, not at least until a relationship has been cultivated for many years.”

“My mother might say all sorts of things about love that aren’t true,” Kit said before she realized she was speaking ill of the queen. She looked around. A few members of her guard stood off in the distance, near the only gate that served as both entrance and exit to the garden. If they had heard, they made no move to accuse her of insubordination.

“Princess,” Eli began, placing his hand gently on her shoulder. Through the thin fabric of her dress, she felt the heat generated there and controlled a shiver so that it went undetected--she hoped. “I have been with a few women, but I think each experience is different for every person. That’s the purpose of the Exploration, so that you can become familiar with what you seek in a partner, so that when it does come time for your Choosing, you will know which Representatives best suit your needs. If it’s love you seek, perhaps you’ll be one of the lucky few to find it.”

She soaked in his every word, knowing he was correct, until the very end of his statement, and then she shook her head. “My mother would never allow me to choose a mate only for the sake of love, you know that as well as anyone. She’s already given me careful instructions. I am to choose a man who can pleasure me completely so that I may focus all of my intellectual ability on what is best for the realm, a silent partner who will put my needs and the needs of Yewforia above all else.”

“You may as well marry a well-hung tree branch then,” Eli muttered, turning away from her, and Kit couldn’t combat the laughter that spilled out of her. The absurdity of both of their statements was overwhelming as her giggles morphed into something else. Hot tears slipped out of her eyes, and Eli pulled her to him so that her head was resting on his shoulder. “Kit, sweetheart, it will be all right. I know better than anyone that you don’t always see the logic in the ways of your ancestors, but you must trust the process.”

The fear and sorrow mingled together to produce quiet sobs, but Kit held onto her emotions the best she could so as not to draw unwanted attention from the guards or anyone else. She knew he was right; she’d have to proceed down the same path as all of the queens that had come before her, since the day her ten-times great-grandmother had claimed the throne, overpowering the weak and small minded King Jelespie over two hundred years ago. That first queen had set the Choosing in place for her own daughters so that the court would stay strong, and the realm would be ruled by powerful, intelligent women, never again influenced by the weaker-minded s*x. But in the back of her mind, Kit had always questioned why it was men were seen as completely inferior, particularly when she considered the merits of the man whose arms were around her now, and of her own father, Remont, whose title was only duke despite the fact that he was married to a queen. He should’ve been king.

Kit’s thoughts were interrupted by the opening of the gate. Eli released her, and she sat up straighter, wiping at her eyes. The voice that called out her name was expected. “Princess Katrinetta?” Avinia said in her confident alto. “There you are. Your mother is expecting you in an hour’s time. You must return to your chambers and prepare yourself. You know you cannot go to her like this.”

With a deep breath, Kit turned to look at her cousin whose hand was reaching out for the princess’s disheveled dark locks. She knew it would take most of that time for her ladies to make her hair presentable. “Yes, Avinia, thank you,” she said, hoping to keep her voice light. She managed a smile and watched as her cousin took a few steps backward, her blonde hair, almost white, catching a sunbeam that illuminated the crown of her head so that she looked like an angel of the goddesses.

Placing her hand on Eli’s lower arm, Kit said, “Thank you—for everything,” in a quiet voice. He smiled and nodded at her before once more reassuring her everything would be all right. She wanted to believe all the words he’d said to her, but in the pit of her stomach, the winged creatures still fought, and as she made her way through the garden gate, she was just as troubled as she’d been when the magpie had swallowed down the delicate azure butterfly.