The tension was palpable at our meeting, but we were all mature enough to know that this dinner had to go well if we wanted to stay here. Its success will influence the princes' opinions, and though it wasn't explicitly stated, we naturally assumed we were competing against the other team and only one event would be declared the winner.

Turns out I did enjoy flipping through flower catalogues, and Beckii oversaw color themes so all I had to do was match her ideas. Albany had scolded me when I said it was an easy job, telling me that I had to look up each flowers' meaning or else we could end up insulting the Italians. It was considerably more boring to have to pull out books and thumb through indexes to find out that white roses were reserved for weddings, and white poppies were used as a symbol of peace. I dog-eared that page.

I returned to the table in the library after collecting more books, trying to find a place to put them on the already cluttered work area that we were sharing. Albany threw a stack of printed papers at me. "You're in charge of seating arrangements," she ordered, "start reading."

I unceremoniously dumped my books onto the notebook she had been reading from and sat back down. "Um, no I'm not. . ." I said incredulously, pushing the papers back towards her and picking up my pen, "Magdalena was supposed to do that. Where is she, by the way?"

The other three girls looked up from their work and stared at me. I stopped chewing on the tip of my pen and straightened, suddenly nervous with all their eyes on me.

"You didn't hear?" Beckii asked, furrowing her eyebrows in disbelief.

"I must have missed the memo," I sneered, feeling left out and trying to save my wounded pride with a snarky remark. Ever since our fight, I've fallen out of the drama loop and had been tuning out any talk of the princes so I could focus on the assignment.

"Prince Alexandre sent two girls home this morning," Anouk filled in, "Magdalena and Kerrigan are gone."

"Luckily, it was one from each team," Beckii added casually with a shrug, returning to her work as if we hadn't been narrowed down to the final eight today. I tried to remember which prince had been interested in Magdalena and Kerrigan, but I was embarrassed to admit they hadn't stood out in my mind.

I felt my face flush red, remembering my visit to Alexandre's room last night. "Are you sure it was this morning?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. My eyes scanned the other girls, gauging their reactions, but Beckii and Anouk both had their head turned down towards their work; I knew they were listening intently though.

"I saw Alexandre talking to Magdalena myself," Albany butted in, suspiciously smug. She paused, giving me the devilish smile she always wore when she was bullying me. ". . .right before he came to invite me on a date tonight," she added, not breaking eye contact.

I broke under her gaze and looked down at the research Magdalena had already started, the neat, cursive words blurring together as my thoughts started to race. "Isn't that what he's supposed to do?" was all I could come up with, trying to mimic Beckii's casual attitude and failing miserably.

"Looks like he's moving on from you," she replied coolly, knitting her fingers together and putting her elbows on the table to rest her chin on her hands.

"Haven't you gone on, like, four dates with him, Albany?" I accused, trying to diffuse the situation so I could change the subject. I looked everywhere but at her, busying myself with organizing random piles of papers.

"This will be our sixth," she laughed, leaning against the back of her chair, "but I'll be sure to keep you informed."

"That's my point," I replied, rolling my eyes as I started to regain my composure, "he's never even asked me on a date, so why should I care what you do with him?" I shouldn't care, but Albany was starting to get under my skin. I was probably still emotionally raw from last night.

"You only ogle at him every time you're in the same room as him," Beckii muttered under her breath.

"Beckii!?" I cried incredulously. Even if we weren't speaking to each other right now, I didn't think she would immediately turn on me, especially trying to embarrass me in front of Albany.

"What?" she asked, looking back up at me and holding her hands out as her eyes went wide, "I didn't say he didn't do it back. It's just that you guys aren't exactly subtle about it. . ."

I jumped up, my chair scraping across the floor loudly. I opened my mouth to deny it, but then Anouk spoke up.

"Can we please stop this?" she asked quietly, turning her eyes up to look at me with a surprisingly authoritative glare on her face. She didn't seem like she was asking.

I opened my mouth again to clarify that I wasn't interested in Alex, but then snapped it shut. Anything I say now would only convince them more that I had something to hide. I fell back in my seat, my skirts ruffling, and put my cheek on a fist to hang my head over the papers I had been given. My hair had been getting very long and I had been wearing it loose more often, so it fell and created a curtain between me and the other girls.

I didn't want them to see how much Albany had gotten to me.

-------------

I was startled awake by the sound of a chair scraping across the floor.

"Can I join you?" Prince Alexandre's voice asked as I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. He was standing with his hand on the back of the chair across from me, leaning down to look at my face expectantly.

"Oh, yeah," I mumbled, shaking my head to clear the sleep from it. I grabbed some of the papers that I had tossed across the table to make room, but then quickly scrambled to cover my parents' book with papers from the dinner party assignment. I had been debating telling Alexandre about it, but it was the only physical evidence I had of treason, so I decided it was best no one knew about it. I was finding out now that reading it openly in the library, even late at night, was a dangerous idea.

"It's late," he stated evenly, "What are you doing here?"

"Sleeping," I said sarcastically, "What are you doing here?"

The side of his mouth twitched up in a smirk before he looked down at the books he had placed on the table. "I've been preparing for the Italians and Turks as much as you ladies have," he explained with a sigh, lazily looking down at my work and reaching his hand out, "though, it looks like we've been studying vastly different topics." He pulled a paper out from under my elbow, and I saw it was the flower catalogue.

"Oh, no. That's been done for a week; I'm just disorganized," I told him, sliding it back towards me across the table. I honestly just didn't want him seeing how bad my handwriting was; I didn't have much time for writing back in Allsport so it was very childish compared to everyone else's. "I've been researching . . . Italian table etiquette," I lied, straightening papers so that the book was fully covered, "Just making sure we have all the knives and forks in the right places. . ."

"You did the flowers?" he asked, putting more force in it as he grabbed the corner and pulled it back towards him, "Let me see what you came up with."

"Why?" I demanded, slamming my hand flat on the paper to stop this little game he was playing.

He turned red and let it go. "Um, like Adalene said when the princesses visited. . ." he said quietly, rubbing the back of his neck before giving me a sheepish grin, "I actually really like doing flower arranging. . ."

"Wait," I exclaimed, chuckling, "I do remember that! Dammit, I should have had you do all my work for me." That all seemed so long ago, our relationship was completely different now. 

"I'll gladly trade with you," he muttered, running his hand through his hair and glancing down at the books in front of him.

I looked him up and down, trying to see that pajama clad boy who had opened up to me a week ago, and I took a deep breath as the thought of touching him again crept into my mind. "That bad?" I asked, raising my eyebrows at him.

"I'm surprised you haven't already heard about it," he noted quietly, watching me for a reaction. 

I paused for a moment, analyzing his question. "Oh, you mean from Ross?" I  exclaimed, pausing to rub at a knot in my shoulder as I thought of him, "he. . .doesn't really talk to me anymore."

He seemed to relax at that answer, though I couldn't guess why. "Don't take it personally," Alex replied nonchalantly, looking up at the ceiling and balancing his chair on its back legs, "He's been kinda bitchy to me too. It might be because we have to start narrowing down our choices. . . or that we're being pushed to form alliances with the ambassadors coming tomorrow."

"Alliances?" I repeated, "That's pretty serious. Isn't there. . . a lot more that goes into organizing something like that then just a couple of meetings?"

"Thus, my dilemma," he said, waving his hand in the hair, "Having visiting dignitaries is supposed to just be one of the trials for the Elites, but I think it's also a test for us," He pushed his hair out of his face and rested his head on the back of his chair. I felt my mouth go dry as my eyes traveled down the skin of his exposed neck to rest on the top buttons on his shirt that were undone.

I shook myself out of my daze. "Do you think it has to do with the rebellions?" I suggested, watching closely for his reaction when I mentioned them.

His chair thumped to the ground. "What do you mean?" he asked seriously, crossing his forearms and leaning them on the table so we could keep our voices down.

I suddenly felt like I was one the being tested, and I worried that I would say something stupid. "I mean. . . if sending out paramilitary troops to the regions with the most outrage hasn't been helping," I explained as I leaned closer to him across the table, "Then maybe a new alliance or two will be a big enough display of force that the rebels will go back into hiding."

He paused, glancing down at the books he had placed on the table; I could see one of them was a book on modern diplomacy. "So, you think I should disrupt the alliance discussions," he assumed, watching me closely. I could see how tight his shoulders were as he waited for me to give him all the answers; I wished I could give him some peace of mind, but I was just as lost as he seemed.

"That is not what I'm saying," I corrected quickly, "I'm just sharing my thoughts. I've been studying Italian fashion Alex; I don't exactly have the credentials to be advising you on international affairs." I didn't mean for my words to come off as passive aggressive, but I was tired and my tone harsh.

His shoulders sank and he ran his hand through his hair again. "Sorry. I didn't mean to involve you in my stress," he muttered dejectedly, looking away from me, "I was actually just passing by to return these books, I can leave you alone." He stood up quickly, sliding the books off the table and into his arms.

I was starting to get annoyed that he leaves whenever the topic gets more serious, but it was chased out by the feelings of longing that hit me suddenly. My thoughts were scrambled as I watched him away; I didn't know how to help him, I just knew I didn't want him to leave yet. "Um, Alex?" I said quickly right before he reached the door.

He turned to face me, giving me a guarded look.

"Do you want to," I started, wiping my hands on my skirts nervously, "meet me in the gardens in 15 minutes?" I had no idea where I was going with this, so I hoped he wouldn't ask for a reason until I had more time to think about it. "I just have to drop my work back at my room," I added quickly, looking down at my outfit, "and change out of the ball gown."

His gaze moved up to his left, making him look pensive. "I think I have a better idea," he declared after a moment, giving me a small, mischievous look, "I'll meet you at your room in 15?" I bit my lip to keep from smiling, excited to see him relax again.

I nodded silently, the nervous energy causing my pulse to spike. As soon as he left the library, I shoved the books and papers unceremoniously into the bag I had brought with me, hoisting it up on my shoulder. I was tired and my shoulders were stiff from my poor sleeping position, but I had to keep myself from running back to my room at full speed.

I opened my door slowly, peaking my head around to see if my maids were still here. I could hear Hannah and Gemma talking in the closet, so I went in to greet them.

"Oh, hi Atlas," Hannah greeted as Gemma gave a small curtsy, "I just sent Luna out to go find you. It's getting late and tomorrow is important, go get changed and into bed." It was late for them too, but they were finishing my dress for the Italians' ball and it looked like they still had hemming and gathering to do.

I gave them a sheepish grin. "Um, yeah, about that. . ." I trailed, my face flushing in embarrassment, "do you actually have something comfortable for me to put on? Like pants?"

"Pants are forbidden," Hannah scolded, ". . . but you could wear one of the sun dresses, they're pretty comfortable, though it will be out of season for this time of year." She seemed to catch herself, realize what she was saying, and added, "Wait, you're going back out?"

"Just for a little," I assured her as Gemma dipped away to go find me a dress without needing to be asked, "Alexandre and I are just. . . working on something for tomorrow."

Hannah looked me up and down skeptically. "Uh, huh," was all she gave in response.

"Just please don't tell anyone," I begged, leaning down to hug her shoulders from behind. I caught a glimpse of myself, making me jump back up; there was mascara and dark eyeshadow smudged around my eyes, making me look even more tired. I felt embarrassed realizing that I looked like this the entire time I was with the prince, and rushed over to the bathroom to scrub my face with a washcloth.

"Here you are, Atlas," Gemma said behind me, handing me a shorter, yellow dress that was decorated with a tulle over skirt. She hung it on the towel rod and stepped up to help undo the strings on my corset.

I jumped to slam the bathroom door closed as I heard my bedroom door being opened while I was still taking my ballgown off, but then Luna called out a greeting and Gemma and I both relaxed. I heard Hannah talking to her briefly and she stepped into the bathroom only to throw her hands up as soon as she saw me. "Did you take all your makeup off?" Luna demanded, already reaching for a bottle of foundation, "You can't go bare face to see the prince."

I wanted to tell her that I already had, but I thought against it; they didn't need to be assuming even more than they already were. "It's not that kind of thing," I told her, dodging away and making her huff in frustration, ". . . honest. I'm just helping him with last minute studying."

"It's late," Gemma commented, holding the new dress out for me to step into.

"You can leave for the night," I insisted, shrugging the straps over my shoulders, "you should rest too. Don't stay up all night working."

"Are you planning on not coming back tonight?" Hannah called from the other room.

There was a soft knock at the door.

"Yeah, I'm coming!" I shouted, skirting around Luna again. I noticed the backpack I had throw on the ground and quickly stuffed it under my desk, hoping they wouldn't try to organize it while I was gone. Even though I had a lot of things to worry about, I was also inexplicably excited to hear him arrive.

"Atlas, don't yell like that," Luna hissed, "it's not lady-like."

"Neither is discussing foreign policy," I joked, swinging the door open.

Alexandre seemed to startle in surprise with the force at which I opened the door, but he broke into a grin when he saw me. I dropped my gaze when I realized I had been giving him a breathless smile.

He looked past me. "Hi Miss. Hannah!" he called to my maid who had appeared in the closet doorway.

"Your majesty," she greeted with a polite curtsy, but then gave him a hard look, "What are you doing keeping Lady Atlas up all night?"

He chuckled and dove for my hand. "Homework!" was all he said before tugging me towards him and grabbing the door handle with his other hand.

I followed his lead. "Bye!" I called, escaping before they could say anything else and letting Alexandre close the door behind us. I pulled my hand away from his and rushed down the hall, putting some distance between us and my room in case my maids decided to pursue us.

Alex jogged to catch up with me, chuckling. "Your maids are great," he commented, falling in line next to me as I slowed, "Are you happy with them?"

"They're sixes," I told him, taking his arm casually to let him lead me towards our destination, "and very talented ones at that. It feels wrong calling them my maids when I'm two castes below them."

"Were. . . two castes below them," the prince corrected quickly, placing his hand on mine where I held his arm.

"Where are we going?" I asked, changing the subject as we turned the corner to take the stairs up to the next floor. It was a conversation I was tired of having and I didn't want to think about castes right now.

"I have a spot," he explained poorly, "It's just up ahead, up the service stairs." He nodded towards a heavy metal door marked with an exit sign and dropped his arm, our hands brushing slightly. I let him take the lead as he pushed the door open and held it open for me.

I gave him a short, "Thanks," and started to climb the stairs upward. Reaching the next door, I stepped back and waited for him. He pushed on the bar and it creaked open, a suddenly rush of air rustling my hair and dress.

I stepped through the doorway onto a small platform jutting out from the peaked roof, my breath catching in my throat. It faced the same way my window did, overlooking the garden; being so high up, I could see even further than the view from my room, and I could make out the dark forest past the inner wall where horse trails cut through the trees. The lanterns in the garden were lit, giving the garden an ethereal feeling as they warmly glowed.

"Wow," I breathed, looking out over the entire back garden. "This is cool," I said lamely with a breathy laugh.

I turned around to see Alex come through the door with two seat covers that looked like they had been stolen from one of the dining rooms. "I should have checked if you were afraid of heights," he noted, dropping the cushions unceremoniously on the ground.

"I'm alright," I assured him, taking a step back so I could sit down next to him. Because I was with Alex, I let my skirts pile up around me messily, bringing my knee up so I could lean my arm on it. It wasn't a very lady-like position, but it felt good to slouch after being in a corset all day.

"Are you cold?" he asked, already taking off his jacket.

"I'm good," I snorted, holding up my hand, "save the chivalry for one of the elites." I turned to look at him. "Not to keep bringing up my tragic life," I added, leaning toward him, "but I'm pretty acclimated to the cold."

His face fell and he looked out towards the garden. "Oh, right," was all he said.

"This is your spot?" I prompted, not wanting to fall into an awkward silence. I studied his face, his profile lit by the faint light coming from below. I watched closely as his lips parted to speak.

"Oh yeah," he nodded, looking up at the sky, "it would be nicer if it weren't so cloudy. . . When you spend your entire life in one castle, you find the best hiding places."

"No one else comes up here?" I asked, glancing around the small, featureless, stone platform. It didn't seem very safe, but this was the most comfortable I had seen Alex, so I didn't worry about falling.

"Not a lot of people even know about it," he explained, bringing his knees up folding his arms over them, "just guards and my brothers. But they both have places of their own that I don't go to either, so yeah, it's kind of my private spot."

"It is a lot less claustrophobic up here," I observed, watching the guards patrol the outer wall, "but very seasonal."

"Are you sure you're not cold?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at me skeptically.

I chuckled and nodded my head, looking up at the grey, dark sky. I could imagine that the stars would look very bright up here. The light from the garden was the only thing allowing us to just barely see each other, but the dark was calming, and I took a few deep breaths. I could understand why he liked it up here; the stress of our lives felt removed.

"We can also talk freely up here," he added after a minute, "no one can hear us."

"Do you regularly bring people up here?" I asked curiously, "Is that why you have the guest cushion?"

"Um no," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, "Sometimes I lay down, but guest cushion sounds better, so I'll go with that." He cleared his throat, adding, "I don't really take people up here. . ."

"Yeah?" I asked, turning to watch him stare down at the courtyard, "Then I'm honored. . . at least until it starts raining." I tried to joke, but my heart had skipped a beat as he admitted it. I missed being this close to someone, but the intimacy also made me uncomfortable. It was a weird combination of feelings, and I rolled my shoulders as if that would clear it away with the stiffness in them.

"I actually wanted to ask you about the rebellion. . ." he started nervously, shifting to cross his legs and let his hands drop into his lap.

"Ah, so that's why I'm up here," I nodded, nervous about the topic and trying to make light of it, "to plot the downfall of the country." I grinned at him, but his face stayed pensive. I looked back out towards the garden, my eyes unfocused.

"You would tell me. . ." he started, looking at me out of the corner of his eye, "If you were planning something with them?"

"What would I be planning?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows and meeting his gaze, "They just want me to win the crown; I feel like you'd notice if I was plotting something like that." I grinned at him weakly and shrugged; I was glad he couldn't see me blushing in the dark. It was supposed to be a joke, but it made him turn to look at me.

He searched my face. "Would that be such a bad thing?" he asked seriously, not breaking eye contact.

I shook my head and shrugged again in confusion, even though I knew what he was asking. "Would what be such a bad thing?" I repeated, buying myself time.

"If you won? If you were queen?" he asked quietly.

I blinked a couple times and dropped my gaze, looking at the pattern on his dress shirt instead of up at him. "If I become a Dutchess?" I asked after a moment, knowing Ross would be promoted to Duke when Alex became King.

"No," was all he said.

I didn't want to think about being queen, and I definitely didn't want to think about being his wife. "I don't see the value in hypotheticals," I commented, rolling my head over to look at him but then stiffening when I saw that he was still staring at me.

"Humor me."

"What are you asking?" I demanded, anxiety settling in the pit of my stomach. I really didn't want to think about it, especially in such a setting. I was so tired; I might say something I didn't mean or didn't want him to know.

"If my father weren't an issue," he clarified, "Would you. . . want to be queen?"

I looked away, uncomfortable. "If you willingly want to work with the northerners," I told him, avoiding his question, "you don't need me to be there for that. They probably didn't expect you to agree to their demands so easily."

"I don't agree," he clarified, leaning back on one hand, "I just think that we could compromise."

"Don't use me as a bargaining chip, Alex," I threatened, glaring at him, "you'd be just as bad as my mother."

"I wouldn't ever do that. Your opinions matter to me, Atlas," he pressed, "I'm just. . . if they already have a whole plan to dismantle the caste system, why shouldn't we let them do it?"

"Are you serious?" I snapped, letting my leg slide down straight, "Did you forget what she did to me?"

"No!" he threw back, "but I don't know what the hell I'm doing Atlas! I would dissolve the caste system if I thought I could do it by myself, but I can't!"

"You have plenty of time to think about it, to plan," I said lowly, watching him out of the corner of my eye, "It's not like you'll be king immediately when the selection ends."

"But if they have a plan. . ."

"If you're suggesting regicide-"

"People are dying! The southern rebellion is getting bolder. They've killed a hundred twos in the past month alone."

"And killing your father would fix that?" I demanded, throwing my hands up, "Flipping our entire governing system on its head while the country descends into even more chaos?"

"That's why I thought maybe we could work with the rebels," he shot back, "let them fix the system."

"And you really trust them to let you stay on the throne?" I growled, "You think they'll be fine with just getting rid of the king, leaving the rest of his bloodline intact?"

He was silent, his jaw working hard as he realized I was right. "I'm not my father," he muttered after a minute.

"You don't have to be!" I exclaimed, repositioning myself so that I could look at him easier, "You'll be a relic of the old system. If you're alive, you're a threat."

"You don't know what they're thinking."

"I'm not risking it!" I barked, "If you want change, then do it internally. Don't bring in people who are willing to kill for their cause. That's not peaceful, it's cruel."

He scoffed. "That just shows how much you don't understand," he laughed cynically, "Whatever happens, people are going to die."

"Then I don't want it to be you!" I yelled, "Don't patronize me Alex."

He just rolled his eyes and turned away from me.

I felt my blood start to boil. I rolled onto my knees and grabbed his shirt, pulling him towards me.

"Stop doing that!" I growled in his face.

"What?!" he demanded, shoving my hand away from him.

"That! Shutting people out! Pushing them away!" I said, throwing my hands up, "There are people who care about you here! You don't have to go to a group of anarchists to find help, Alex! Why don't you ask your brothers? You shared a womb and yet they have no idea how much you're hurting!"

"I'm not. . ."

I whipped my head around to glared at him and his sentence caught in his throat. His eyes kept flitting away from mine as he said, "I have to protect them. It doesn't matter if I'm the oldest only by a few minutes, that responsibility falls to me. They shouldn't have to – I don't want them to have to feel like this."

I didn't know what to say.

He sighed. "I'm sorry Atlas," he said quietly, crossing his legs and shifting on the cushion, "I just – there's no one else I can go to about this rebellion. I don't know if I should tell Ross and Chris about it, it's a delicate situation and I'm. . . afraid for them."

I sat back onto my cushion, hesitating for a moment before reaching for his hand and threading his fingers in mine. I didn't know what else I could offer besides physical comfort. I leaned my head onto his shoulder, sighing. "I don't think you should tell them yet either," I muttered, resting our hands on his knee, "but at least talk to them about the feelings you're having. Ease your mind a little."

"Thank you for your help," he whispered, "you do a lot to ease my mind."

"Well, I'm bored," I joked lightly, trying to break the tension between up, "and kind of lonely."

"Welcome to my world," he mumbled, pushing hair out of his face as he looked down at the garden.

"Shut up," I said, elbowing him lightly, "you have girls dying to go on dates with you."

"Do they talk about that a lot?" he asked, shifting in his seat uncomfortably, "About the dates. . . and about me?"

"It's more to one-up each other at this point," I muttered, "but they don't go into detail." I knew what he wanted me to say, but I wasn't going to divulge into every conversation they had about him. It was mostly about how distant he was lately.

I ran my thumb up and down his, feeling the soft skin of hands that never saw physical labor. All the lotions in the world wouldn't repair the scars on my knuckles or the callouses from constantly climbing and pulling ropes and cleaning the warehouse floors. I suddenly felt self-conscious, picture one of the other Elite's perfectly manicured hands intertwined

"Do you tell them about us?"

"These aren't dates," I drawled, rolling my eyes.

"Well no, they aren't," he agreed, "but they're. . . something?"

"They're not helping. You're not going out with any of the elites," I accused, glad he couldn't see the pained expression I wore, "how do you plan on getting close to any of them if you never see them?" His hand tightened for a second, reminding me how wrong it was to be as close as we were; it wasn't what friends were supposed to do.

He leaned his head onto mine. "They're. . ." he trailed, taking a deep breath, "boring. . ."

I couldn't stop myself from laughing. "Normal, you mean."

"What am I supposed to talk about with them?" he groaned. "Hey, wasn't breakfast nice this morning? Like every other breakfast we've had for the past three months?" he mocked in a chipper tone, raising his head up.

"You're pathetic," I muttered, "get to know them. Just let them talk about themselves; everyone likes to do that. I don't know, I'm not a dating coach."

"Mm," Alex agreed, "I've still got time. There are two more events that we're supposed to wait for before we make our final choice."

I felt a pit grown in my stomach. I didn't have to say anything; I could just let this go on for as long as possible and continue to use him while jeopardizing his future. I hated how much I enjoyed his company. "Alex. . ." I started after a couple minutes, pulling myself up from his shoulder.

"Atlas," he replied lightly, looking at me with a passive expression.

"Tuesday morning," I said slowly, "you sent two girls home."

I felt a pause in his breathing when I said it and he turned away. "Yeah, I did," he said evenly.

"And I was with you Monday night." I was glad we were both staring out at the garden.

"Yeah, you were," he continued.

I was upset he was going to make me ask it, but I did it anyway. "Did you send them home because of me?"

"And if I said yes?"

I pulled away from him and let go of his hand. I was about to start scolding him again, but he continued.

"I didn't," he said after a moment, as if it were obvious, "Ross already had his top three and so did Chris, so I just wanted to keep the selection moving along." He took a long pause. "I genuinely didn't feel anything for them, Atlas," he added after a moment, turning his head to look me in the eye, "That's it."

I was quiet for a moment, doing the math in my head, assuming I was still in Ross' category. "So, you have your top two. . ." I hypothesized, looking at him expectantly.

His eyebrows furrowed and his back straightened. "No," he replied, shaking his head at me, "I have. . ." He paused, holding his breath as he looked me up and down.

"There's still some. . ." he stuttered out quickly, "overlap. Kinda."

I could see he was stressed, and I felt bad for even asking. I was going to stay quiet and let the conversation peter out, but he kept going.

"I mean, yeah, I guess. I have safe picks," he said, "girls I wouldn't mind-" The words caught in his throat, and he stopped to blink a couple times, staring at the ground, before pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes.

". . . spending the rest of my life with - I probably shouldn't be talking to you about this," he said all at once.

"Probably," I muttered, not feeling consoled by his answer, "sorry I asked." I couldn't picture any of the girls standing by his side, none of them seemed like they could handle him.

"Sorry I answered," he said, giving a bitter laugh and pushing himself off the ground to stand up. "We should head back inside; we both need sleep for tomorrow," he commented evenly.

He offered me a hand up, but I didn't take it, instead handing him the cushion I was sitting on. He opened the door and threw them into the corner of the stairwell, holding the door open with his back, waiting for me to walk through.

"Alex," I said quickly, unable to stop myself as I stood rooted where I was. His head snapped up, his eyes piercing mine.

Am I your third option?

"What if we had the rebellions fight each other?" I blurted out.

His eyes turned downward. "It's a good idea, I'll think about it," he said, using his hand to gesture me inside.

I thought he would walk me back to my room, but he stopped where our hallways diverged. He looked me up and down, and then said a quick, "Thank you, goodnight," before slowly turning to leave.

"You too," I replied. Alex turned to wave his hand once in response and gave me a tight-lipped smile that didn't reach his eyes. I don't know why I felt like I hurt him, or why I felt hurt, but I was somber as I slowly walked back to my room.

"How was it?" Luna cooed when I walked through the door.

"I'm tired," I told her quietly, letting the door swing closed behind me as I stood in the middle of the room. I know I looked miserable, with my shoulders drooping and gaze fixed rigidly on the floor.

My maids looked at each other with concern, but I didn't want to explain what had happened. Hannah seemed like she was going to say something, but then decided on, "Would you like us to leave you for the night?"

"Thank you."

As soon as they left I pulled my dress off, not bothering to put on any pajamas. Falling into bed and pulling the heavy bedcover over me, I curled up and turned my face into the pillow, feeling rejected and lonely. Tomorrow would be a long, stressful day, but our rooftop conversation kept me up as it replayed over and over again in my head.

A/N Sorry it took so long! I have a lot more written out because I'm a sap, so at this point it's just editing the garbage that I spew out as a first draft. I've been writing for my thesis game for an entire month, so I've been pretty sick of writing, but now I'm onto modeling and environments so I'll be posting regularly again.