I was the first to step out of the train car, but stopped when I looked up at the castle. It was huge! The outside face was a pale brick with a steep dark roof and and various balconies and protrusions that gave the building character. There were three floors of windows and two wings branched off of the main building and disappeared behind the wall. Round, pointed towers at every corner gave it a fairy tale feel, complete with long banners that bore the royal family crest. Even through the small iron gate atop the hill, I could see a manicured lawn and expertly done landscaping. 

Albany brushing past me woke me from my trance, and I tried to recover from my shock at the castle but following beside Beckii as we walked up the drive towards the tall walls of the castle. People all around us cheered, and all the other girls from the train started splitting off to sign autographs and pose for photos. I didn't see a single sign that read my name like they did for the other girls, and no one was pinning for my autograph. 

I swallowed hard, feeling panic rise in my chest. I couldn't just follow Beckii or Anouk and stand there awkwardly, but I couldn't just stand here on the train platform either. I started walking forward, staying close to the other girls so I wasn't in the middle of the wide driveway where everyone could see me. I decided to just walk slowly up the gate and smile and wave at people when someone grabbed my arm and wrapped their hand around their waist. 

"Come take a picture with me Atlas," she smiled, and then I did the best I could to pose for a couple of photographers who were shouting different directions at us. I thought I recognized this girl as Valeera somthing, but I didn't know where she was from nor did I recognize the red flower in her hair. As we took a few more pictures and finally someone asked me for my autograph, girls started peeling away from the crowd and gathering at the main gate. 

"Thanks," I muttered as we walked up the hill. I got a better look at her; she had fair, copper skin, dirty blonde hair, and the brightest green eyes. There seemed to be an air of mischief that permeated her aura and her high cheek bones and deep set eyes with sharp angles to them only added to that. 

"Don't mention it," she said as a guard slid open the gate and all 35 girls started shuffling onto palace property, "No one else would have done it and I saw you were panicking pretty bad." She laughed it off as if it were comical.  

"Was it that obvious?!" I asked, wondering if anyone had taken my picture during that small, panic-induced, monologue. That would not be a good first impression for whatever magazines and newspapers those journalists were taking pictures for. 

"No," she said, laughing again in a high, clear voice, "I'm just good at reading people." 

Another pair of guards met us at the steps of the palace and pulled open the hulking oak doors. The foyer was even more impressive, with a gold leaf floor pattern and a large crystal chandelier hanging over our heads.

Once we were in we didn't know where to go, so light chatter started to fill the hall as we clumped together in a group. "I'm Valeera Sanguinar by the way," she smiled. 

"Atlas Avery," I said, trying not to cringe when I said my last name. 

"I know," she breathed, her eyes widening, "You're fighting skills are the stuff of legends." 

My heart started to race in my chest. "You've heard of me?" I asked, wishing now more than ever that I knew where this girl was from. If someone five or up has heard of me, then others have as well. 

Valeera opened her mouth, but was cut off by a loud, female voice that washed over all the selected and quieted us. "Welcome ladies!" a woman with smart looking glasses and pin straight pale blonde hair greeted us, "I'm Silver, I was the one who talked to each of you ladies on the phone and I'll be your adviser and teacher for your stay here at the palace." 

I remembered her. She was the one of the only people I talked to last week that didn't seem to hate me for my caste number. She acted a bit too peppy for it to be real, but excitement was still evident in the way she stood and talked to us. "As a way of welcoming you to their home, the royal family has invited you to afternoon tea. Once you are done with your make overs in the women's room we will all head to the south dining room for two hours and then we will assign rooms at which time you will retire for the night. Supper will be served in your room so that you may relax and calm down after your busy day today." 

Beckii appeared beside me. "This is the first year that the selected meet the royals on the first day," she whispered, "I wonder why they're being so non-formal." 

I shrugged. "I don't think I'd want to spend an entire day in a person's home without meeting them first," I said, and then looked to where Silver was still talking. 

"... tour tomorrow morning after breakfast and then you will be having your first lessons in etiquette in the afternoon. The princes will also be pulling you out one by one to have formal introductions at that time," she told us, turning and motioning for us to follow behind her. She continued to talk about what will happen during our makeovers and once we reached a set of tall doors, Silver instructed us to get in line so they can take before shots of all the selected. 

 As soon as I was finished with the photographers, Silver whisked me away to station five, leaving me there alone. I didn't know the girls on either side of me, and neither of them seemed like they want to talk. I assumed everyone else would be used to this sort of thing, but a lot of the other girls seemed as dazed and overwhelmed as I felt. 

I sat staring into the lit mirror for a few minutes before a short, dark-haired man with a thick Italian accent came over to me. "Hello darling, you're the eight right?" he asked, turning my chair around so he could look at me. I felt annoyance bubble up at hearing that again. Was that all I would be known for? 

"My name is Atlas," I corrected, trying not to let my anger get the best of me. This guy was going to make me over, and I didn't need to be provoking him. 

"Well Lady Atlas," he drawled, walking around me and occasionally picking up my arm to look at my nails or tittering at my frizzy, split curls that he had pulled out of their braid, "What kind of image do you want?" 

"Uh excuse me?" I asked, not understanding. 

"You know, do you want to look sexy? Sophisticated? Cute?" he asked, raising his eyebrow at me through the mirror. 

"Do I have to have to change? Can't I just be me?" I asked, feeling suddenly very uncomfortable. 

"This is a competition" he mumbled, ruffling my hair a bit with his hands to give it some volume, "And you need a lot of work." 

I guess he really meant that, for I stayed the longest on the chair out of all the girls. Some woman came and scrubbed my body until my skin was red because apparently I wasn't capable of doing it myself, and then every inch of exposed skin was rubbed down with sweet, citrus smelling lotion. 

Two girls came over to do my nails and toes, and were appalled by the state they were in. As much as I tried to keep them presentable, they were pretty rough. They broke so easily because of the malnutrition and normally they were dirty from fighting or cleaning or digging around in the trash that, until now, I had completely let them go. They said that they would put fake nails on, and though I tried to convince them not to, they insisted it would be easier for them to paint. 

My eyebrows were thinned and my legs and arms waxed, and then they dyed my hair a darker brown and put these rollers and pungent smelling liquid into my hair which would apparently give me "manageable curls."  By the time they were caking my face in makeup and shoving me in a tight, bright blue dress that looked like I was going to a school dance instead of meeting the royal family, I was absolutely miserable to too tired to even argue with what they were doing. I guess the make up was applied and blended well, but it was too bold for having not worn make up before. 

"Lady Atlas you look good," Silver said, giving me a smile that didn't reach her eyes, "It's time for you to get your pictures done and then we have a few reporters that would like to interview you." 

I groaned internally, wanting nothing else than to get my room assignment, rip all this stuff off of me, and crawl into bed. And we still had the royal family to meet. 

"Lady Atlas," a professional looking woman said, calling me over to a couch with stage lights surrounding it. I walked over to her and she pulled me down next to her. "We just wanted to ask you a couple questions about your transformation, tell us what they did!" 

"Uh they dyed and cut my hair and gave me more manageable curls," I said, thinking back. 

"And how was your first pampering experience," she asked with a look on her face that could be considered a 'TV smile'. 

"I think getting my eyebrows plucked is worse than being punched in the face," I muttered. I meant it to be cynical, but the reporter and camera crew genuinely laughed at the comment. 

"That will be good," the lady said as the man behind the camera took it off his shoulder and pointed it at the ground. 

"That's it?" I asked, surprised that they asked me only two questions. Normally interviews on TV went on for ages. 

"We have 34 other girls to interview today, so yeah, that's all," she said, standing and walking over to another girl and motioning her towards the couch. I quickly stepped away from the little recording studio and lined up for the after shot, knowing my smile will be about as fake as the rest of my face is right now. 

"You do not look happy," Beckii said, plopping down on the couch and smirking at me. Her hair had been straightened and cut to give her front bangs, but other than that they didn't do much but enhance her beauty. 

"I don't feel very comfortable," I muttered miserably, picking at my fake nails that were too long for me to do anything strenuous with my hands. 

"You get used to it," she shrugged, looking me over again, "And I'm sure they'll give you more freedom to choose what you wear from now on." 

I wanted to wear pants, but something told me that wasn't going to happen.

Soon the waiting area was filled with 35 giggling and excited girls all talking about their makeovers and silently assessing their competition. It felt like everyone else was on an even playing field except me. I had to remind myself over and over again that I didn't care, and that I was only here for the money and free food. 

"Ladies! Settle down now, we're going to move down to the dining room soon. Please collect yourselves," Silver said over the crowd. I was surprised at how well she was able to command a room. 

The clicking of heals created a chorus of noise that followed our large group and announced our arrival from a mile away. I stumbled and few times and ended up lagging to the back because the four inch silver heals they had given me were four inches too tall. It took all my concentration not to wipe out across the shiny, smooth floor. My ankles were aching by the time we reached the glass door at the end of the hall. 

Two guards standing post opened the doors and a gust of welcomed wind flowed over the crowd. The dining room has a casual set up with round, four seat tables and a buffet stacked with all types of pastries in the back. The windows were impossibly tall and had sheer, white curtains that billowed in the light breeze that was coming through them. All over, there were light, pastel flowers and the walls were a pinstripe white and blue. It was beautiful. 

The royal family was standing by the door, ready to greet us. Queen Amberly was smiling at us as if she just gained 35 new daughters. Her brunette hair was piled on top of her head and adorned with jewels, and she had the most beautiful heart shaped face. Her husband, King Corvax, was also as handsome, with chiseled features and a business like posture that gave off an aura of professionalism. He looked at us as if he was expecting us right in that time, in that order, and I felt uncomfortable when he made eye contact with me. His expression was impossible to place, which made me even more anxious because I was normally a good judge. 

Finally the princess stood at her mothers feet, nearly buried in her gown. She was 15 and reminded me of Ari with her bright blue eyes and guarded expression. She was looking at us each in turn, as if we were here to steal her brothers away. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to have three older brothers like that. 

The triplet princes were standing in the back by the buffet, talking quietly. As soon as the doors opened they separated however,  and I got my first good look at them. I had never payed much attention to them on the reports, so I noticed a lot I had never before. 

Prince Ross towered over everyone in the room, including his father. His black suit only added visual length to him and matched the raven black of his hair. Even from here I could see the powerful, icy blue eyes that he shared with his mother and little sister as he watched us all file into the room. He was going to inherit the middle country where most of the cities and infrastructure were located. It was known for it's lumber production in the east and technology in the west.  

Prince Christoph was next, and seemed small between his unusually tall brothers. He had mousy brown hair that fell across his forehead and eyes, yet still managed to look professional. He has small brown eyes to match and wore a white suit accented with orange. His lands were the icy north, full of wild bears and wolves and even more full of oil. His was the section of our country that provided the rest with fuel and electricity. 

Last was Prince Alexandre. He had wavy brown hair and a sharp face like his father's, and his blue eyes were more subdued and more calculating. His suit was blue and the jacket was less formal than that of his brothers. Just like King Corvax, he held his expression well and I couldn't get a good handle on his personality. His chin was covered in a closely kept ginger beard, a talked about anomaly in the gossip magazines.  He was the oldest above Prince Ross and then Prince Christoph, and would therefore be getting the largest protectorate out of all of them, the south. It was the most prosperous and not only provided 90% of the food for the country, but also held the capitol Angeles, where we are now, and  my Allsport, the biggest trade and business city in the nation. Whoever married him would be the prime queen and possibly rule the entire country  (depending on their decision at the death of King Corvax), so I assumed everyone would go after him. 

"Girls!" Queen Amberly addressed, "Welcome! You all look so beautiful after your make overs! Please, be seated, servers will be around to take your drink orders and you're all welcome to the food in the back. Take this time to get to know your fellow selected as well." She used her hands to gesture to the buffet, and then took a seat with the king and her daughter. The princes did not follow suit, and stayed near the back as we all chose our seats and a light discourse was struck up. I sat with Anouk, Beckii, and Valeera and ordered a mint tea in hopes that it would calm my upset stomach from the nerves and the exhaustion. 

We all sat drinking our tea and waiting. Even though everyone talked, there was a high tension in the air as we all kept one eye on the princes. Valeera struck up a conversation with Anouk, so I tried to talk to Beckii again. 

"What are they doing?" I asked, watching the princes casually walk around the tables but keep silent and distant. 

"I think they want us to go up and introduce themselves," Beckii whispered back, "You should go up there." 

"Me?" I asked incredulously. I was the last person who needed to either make a fool of myself or outshine the other girls who already hated me for getting into the selection as an eight. I also didn't know the first rule in greeting a prince. 

"Yeah, I'll go up with you," she said back, already standing up, "You go to Prince Alexandre first, and then ill follow with Prince Christoph." She pulled me up by the arm and gave me a small push forward. 

Everyone's eyes were on me in seconds, and though they kept talking politely, I might have well been on a stage with the spotlight on me. I dared to sneak a glance over at the royal family, and they were all watching me as well, though with different forms of surprise and intrigue. Albany saw through my plan, and immediately jumped up and started walking over to the princes as well, but it seemed like she had her eye on Prince Ross instead. I breathed a sigh of relief. So this was what we were supposed to do. 

I stopped in front of Prince Alexandre and pulled my skirts out to the side, crossed one foot behind the other, and curtsied low in the only fashion I knew how. My heals made it hard to balance, but I didn't bend low enough that there was the threat of falling over. "Good afternoon your majesty," I said, coming out of my curtsy, "My name is Atlas Avery, from Allsport." 

He watched me curtsy and his lips turned downward and he furrowed his eyebrows. "What are you? A maid?" he asked, contempt clear in his mocking voice. 

I didn't understand what he meant until I subtly looked over at Beckii, who was holding her skirts out in front of her and stepping a foot backwards instead of crossing it behind. Apparently there were different types of curtsies.

I tried to laugh it off and felt a blush creep up my neck and into my cheeks, and there were a few snorts and giggles behind me. "I'm sorry your majesty, I'm a bit new to-" 

"Clearly," he snapped, not even letting me finish. I felt anger bubbling up inside me, but I dampened it down and opened my mouth to speak again. He didn't even look at me; his eyes scanned the room instead, uninterested. 

Prince Alexandre didn't even let me say anything before he cut me off again. "Atlas? You're the eight right?" he asked, his eyes flickering over to me and probably judging my make over that didn't help show that I belonged here just as much as the other girls  because of how out of place it looked on me. 

"I am," I said quickly before he could cut me off, "But I can assure you that I'm-" 

"What whorehouse did they drag you out of?" he asked, his mouth cocking to the side in a grin as if he found my attempts to defend myself pathetic and amusing. 

I looked around, there were four guards posted around the room and another two outside. I actually considered assaulting the future leader of our country for a second; I was used to name calling like that, but no one ever said that to me and walked away without a black eye or a few teeth knocked out. 

I felt a tug on my arm and someone threaded their hand around my bent elbow. "Lady Avery," Prince Ross smiled, immediately pulling me away from his brother, "I was hoping I could show you the terrace over here. There's a beautiful view of the gardens and they take influence from the beautiful dogwood parks of Allsport." He continued to ramble on quickly as he opened the glass doors onto a sand colored balcony, and gave me a small push out there, closing the door behind him. 

"Stand here," he said, positioning me near the far corner next to the railing with a hand on my shoulder, and then taking his place on my other side, "I just don't want photographers taking pictures of you crying on your first day here. It doesn't make any of us look good." He had made it that my back was facing the glass doors, and when I looked over my shoulder, I saw two camera lenses looking back at me. 

I didn't realized I had been crying until Prince Ross had pointed it out, and I only cried harder at the thought that I had been reduced to tears in the few hours I had been here. I was supposed to be so strong. What was this place doing to me? 

"Oh no," he muttered, pulling the handkerchief out of his pocket and handing it to me, "Please don't cry. Alex isn't too keen on the idea of the selection, and he's only trying to upset some of the girls enough for them to want to leave on their own." 

"Well it worked," I snapped, feeling more hot tears slid down my face and the burning sensation of the makeup leaching into my eyes. I hated it here and, no matter what people thought, I was too good to be degraded by a pompous prince. 

I took a deep breath, drawing in everything that was upsetting and overwhelmed me, and with a short, powerful breath, let it all out so it couldn't get to me anymore. It was a trick Sjin had taught me, and suddenly my head felt clear again. "I'm asking you to dismiss me," I told him.

He looked taken aback. "What? You want to leave?" he asked, genuinely surprised that I didn't want to stay in the palace with 34 other girls that hated me and a prince that had debased me. 

"Yes," I said, keeping my voice from quavering and wiping the smudged makeup off my face, "I'm not going to treated like that and compete for something an eight won't ever win. I'm not going to be the comedic relief in this prison."

"You... you really think this place is a prison?" he asked. 

I felt my anger subside, he didn't deserve my tantrum the same way I didn't deserve Prince Alexandre's resentment. 

He sighed. "If you really want to leave you can, but at least let me try to make it up to you first," his eyes flickered over my shoulder and he turned to look out towards the garden, motioning discreetly for me to do the same, "I'm not supposed to see any of the selected until formal introductions until tomorrow, and I know you'll be getting a tour in the morning, but I was wondering if you would allow me to give you a personal tour." He looked at me out of the corner of his eye and grinned. "I could show you some of the more beautiful parts of this prison." 

I was starting to feel increasingly bad about snapping and yelling at him and generally making myself out to be a blubbering mess to him. He was still trying to make me happy even if he wasn't the one who had caused my unhappiness in the first place. "You don't have to," I offered, handing him back his handkerchief. 

He put his hand over my closed fist and lowered it, probably not wanting a makeup and tear stained cloth back. "I'll be at your room at eight," he smiled, offering his elbow to me, "Now come along, I want you to meet my brother Chris. I promise he's not as bad as Alex."