Welcome to my latest story. Unfortunately my laptop died and I lost a lot of chapters from my other stories, so I am currently rewriting them. For now, here is my newest edition, based on some ideas from several books I have read over the last year. I hope you enjoy

-x-x-

'How was school, sweetie?' My adoptive mother, Sally, asked me as I threw down my tattered satchel and sat at the table across from her. I put down the worn textbooks and brushed the dust off of them, careful not to get any on the drying painting that Sally had clearly done earlier that afternoon.

'It was fine.' I replied and she gave a small smile. Truth be told, it was awful but that was because we couldn't afford a decent school. I was lucky to be going to school at all; some of the other girls and boys on our street couldn't afford to go, their parents out of work or in lower professions than Sally and Simon. They were both artists, which gave us just about enough to get by but not much profit these days. It was a hard business to be in, but then our world was tough. The central part of our country was split into four provinces and each of those provinces was split into different professions, thus having different payscales. The capital, Ascot, was where the Royal family lived, their palace right in the centre of it with their government surrounding their monarchy. On the edge capital was Goldlyn and that was where the celebrities, the lawyers and the businessmen and women, and those with the highest paycheques lived. Then there were the people of Belham with the service professions like guards, teachers, healers and scholars and so on. The next province outwards was ours, Whitebridge , and we were filled with lower-paid jobs; artists, singers, dancers, people working in shops, farmers and so on. The poorest province was Lowstoft and it was a dangerous place to live. A lot of people were homeless, but some people were lucky enough to be hired as janitors or maids or groundskeepers. There were other parts of our small country too, to the North, South, East and West of us, with equally wealthy and impoverished towns and cities, but most of our population lived towards the centre as more jobs were available.

Our small country was an unfair place to live and I'd grown up knowing that. My mother, Simon assumed, must have been from Lowstoft and probably couldn't afford to look after me. Sally, on the other hand, lived in some kind of fairytale where she believed my mother could have been wealthy or a celebrity, who had had me as a result of an affair so was hiding me away. She had found me one day, abandoned outside an art gallery on the outskirts of Goldlyn. Simon assumed that my mother had hoped someone from Goldlyn would take me in and raise me, but she'd been nave to think so. People were selfish and I had been a grubby baby wrapped in nothing more than a blanket. And I'd lived with Sally and Simon ever since.

'Lots of homework?' Sally asked. She brushed some simple strokes across a piece of paper and I realised she had new brushes.

'Not much with finals nearly over. Those are nice.' I took one off of the table and played with the horsehair brush.

'I made a bit more on that last job.' She replied. 'Madam Rubee said she would pass on her card to her friends so maybe we'll have a bit more cash to hand.'

Madam Rubee lived in Goldlyn. She wasn't famous, but her husband was a wealthy judge and in ways that made him quite famous. Having her onside was a big deal for us because it meant that word might get out about Sally and Simon's artwork.

'That's excellent news.' I smiled. I pulled out my notebook and looked down at my scribbled handwriting, wishing I could write beautiful calligraphy like my adoptive parents could. It would at least make my writing look better.

'We might even be able to get you a new guitar.' Simon said, his head appearing from down the side of the kitchen counter. I'd not even seen him there. His hair was dusty and paint was splattered on his tunic, pants and skin, but I was used to seeing him that way.

'It doesn't matter. My guitar is fine, really.' I said. And it was. It was not a fancy make and was old and slightly battered these days, especially as it had been a birthday present a few years ago from the charity shop at the end of our street. But to me, it was still a guitar and it allowed me to escape all of this.

'Aha!' Simon was distracted and we heard a click before the 'visual box' came on. It was a way of watching what was happening in the rest of the country, reminding us just how low down the food chain we really were.

'His Royal Highness Prince Zed has been hitting the headlines again this week after stumbling out of Ascot tavern, Illeria, with two page 3 models hooked to his arms. The Prince was seen drinking underage and left with the two models.'

'Absolutely vile.' I whispered and Sally gave a small smile.

'My daughter, not falling into the category of fancying bad boys.' She laughed.

'Why would I?' I frowned. 'What a way to live your life: stumbling out of clubs with a different girl every week. Just because he's privileged and entitled does not mean he needs to be a complete and utter jackass.'

Simon raised his eyebrows, 'be careful what you say about our monarchy. I'd keep that between these four walls if I were you.'

'What? They're going to banish me because their son is a drunk?' I picked up my pen and started to doodle on my notepad. 'The press are allowed to criticise him but I can't?'

'It's not really our place,' Sally murmured.

'But it's not the press' place either.' I hated the media. I turned off the small visual box and my parents frowned. 'Nothing better to do but gossip about celebrities. How could anyone live their life like that? Being watched all the time? And judged all the time? Who cares if Jessie Ramone is wearing some new fashion designer? There are far more important things going on in our world than that.'

'We know love.' Simon looked sad as anger bubbled inside of me.

'I'm going for a walk,' I said, standing up and needing to cool off. 'I'll reheat dinner when I get back.' The old front door slammed behind me as I walked into our street, crammed with terraced houses. Our elderly neighbour, Mrs Creedy, watched me from the window as I walked along the street. It was a muggy evening and the clouds were making it feel warmer, maybe even stormy. My boot-covered feet carried me along, in a daze as I thought back to my day at school. The teachers had been condescending, as always, and my classmates were cruel.

'Weren't you wearing that tunic yesterday, Sky?'

'What's with the ripped leggings? Can't afford new ones?'

'You have no boobs whatsoever, no wonder no guys fancy you.'

I found myself climbing the hill I always escaped to. It was a small, tranquil part of town and hardly anyone visited anymore. The grass was overrun and wild flowers grew but that was just how I liked it. Peaceful and all mine, my own little meadow in the middle of hell. I sank into the grass and looked out at the horizon. You couldn't see Ascot from here, despite claims that it was on the horizon on a clear day. Goldlyn was just about visible, at least the outskirts anyway, but the capital was still a long carriage journey away. My stomach growled but I ignored it, reaching for a poppy and twiddling it between my fingers. I was always hungry. That was part of living in Whitebridge. There was never enough food on the tables. My face looked gaunt, unhealthy at the best of times, apart from the slight glow of a tan I sometimes got in the summer. My blue eyes were often red from sleepless night and my body was definitely underweight. My curly, long blonde hair was frizzy and unruly. My classmates taunted me about my slim, boyish, short body. I lacked curves due to a poor diet.

'Of course you'd be up here.' My best and only friend, Ellen, sat down in the long grass beside me and brought her knees up to her chin. The opposite of me, Ellen was beautiful, despite being so slim. Her body was slightly curved, her mother's figure, and her green eyes stood out against her dark brunette locks that fell straight down her back. She was tall with ridiculously long legs, and, despite her background, guys loved her. It was hard not to. She seemed to light up any room and as if she knew how I was feeling, she was always there when I needed.

'You know me too well.' I replied and she smiled.

'Oh you know me and my telepathic link to you.' She teased with a wink. 'I thought you'd need to chat. You hurried home before I could catch up with you.'

'Wanted the crap day to be over with.' I murmured.

'Who am I beating up this time?' She offered. 'Janet calling you a dude again?'

'You aren't beating anyone up. I can look after myself.'

'Oh, I know that,' she laughed softly and I knew she was thinking about the time I'd kicked Peter Martin in his manly area when he'd called me an ugly midget. 'But surely it's good to know I have your back?'

'You always do.' We let the quiet hang over us and that was something I liked. She never felt the need to fill the silence.

'Did you watch the entertainment news?' Definitely the opposite of me. Ellen liked watching gossip stories and craved them- it was in some ways her escapism from our lives. I knew she hoped to be a judge one day and I had no doubt she would succeed. Her report cards showed excellent results.

'Only the story about Prince Zed.' I said, drily. 'But it just riled me up more and sent me up here.'

'Ah,' she nodded. 'He is quite the bad boy, isn't he?'

'Quite?'

A smile crept over her face, 'bloody gorgeous though, isn't he?'

I widened my eyes, 'are you serious?'

'Are you denying it?' Her eyes widened.

'He's a womaniser and a complete ass!'

'But he's cute.' She prodded me in my bony side. 'Personality aside, isn't he nice to look at?'

And then she started to tickle me and I squealed, 'okay, okay!' I admitted. 'He is cute but that doesn't mean he's a decent guy!'

She grinned, proud to have broken me. 'That whole family have some ridiculously good genes going on and Lady Diamond is going to be a ridiculously beautiful Queen when she marries Prince Trace.'

'Some people get all the luck,' I murmured. 'Good looks and never having to worry about there being enough food on the table or enough money for logs for the fire when winter comes.'

'I wonder what it would be like to be Royalty,' Ellen said, dreamily. From her relaxed expression as she looked out at the horizon, I wondered if she was thinking about it. I could picture her as a duchess, dancing around in a princess-shaped ballgown. She would be in her element. Then a vision of me dressed the same came to me. A large dress swamped my underweight, petite figure and I stumbled, cringing away from the cameras as I danced (or stumbled) across a polished wooden floor.

'You'd be perfect,' I told her and she squeezed my hand as we sat back and watched the sunset disappear, taking her hopes and dreams along with it.

'Come on you damn thing,' Simon hissed at the visual box the following week. He was hitting the top of it in an attempt to make it work.

'Ask it nicely,' I teased and a small smile played on my father's lips. I could smell dinner cooking- the usual stew. It didn't require many ingredients and it contained enough nutrients to keep us going. 'Please work, Mr Box.' I said and then it blinked on.

The small box came to life and the news was talking about the latest fashion trend in the city; a tight-fitting dress to be worn over a corset, the models looking beautifully curvy as they danced in the velvet attire. I frowned, resisting the urge to get up and turn the damn thing back off. Everyone in Goldlyn and the capital city would be watching it, sucked into the Friday night watching. There were always news and gossip updates on Fridays and we always ended up watching them. Not because we were interested in that, but because the Royal Family or the Government reported every Friday for fifteen minutes. Sometimes it was to give us information about a new law, sometimes it was for an inspirational message and other times they announced special events or celebrations. Either way, everyone across our small country would watch it and if you didn't own a television, you were usually expected to find a neighbour who did.

Right on cue, the doorbell rang and I knew that Ms Creedy, the elderly widow who lived next door, was coming round to watch the Royal Review. Sally got up to answer it and Simon went back to the stew we were having for dinner, stirring it in the saucepan. There wasn't much there, but we'd be sharing it with Ms Creedy anyway as she had even less than we did to get by on. She walked into the room slowly, her ankles swollen and her shoes scuffing on the wooden floorboards. But Ms Creedy never showed any pain and never made a fuss.

'Sky, how has your week been?' She asked cheerfully as Sally helped her into a chair. I closed my notebook and tucked it back into my satchel.

'It's been good. And yours?'

'Same old.' She shrugged. 'We've had lovely weather, haven't we? You've caught the sun on your cheeks.'

I blushed and pressed my cold hands to them. 'Not long until school finishes now.'

'One more week, isn't it?'

I nodded. 'I've finished my exams.'

'And what do you intend to do when you've finished?' She took a sip of the tea Simon had placed down in front of her and I did the same with mine.

'Sky likes her music but might get a job in the market for now.' Simon replied on my behalf.

'The music industry is hard to do well in.' Ms Creedy nodded.

'It is.' I agreed, my heart sinking a little. I loved music and I'd love to play piano and guitar as part of a career, but it was unlikely I'd be successful enough for that. Very few people made it to fame and fortune, and those people were very lucky. I didn't want the fame, though, just enough money to not be stuck here and to help out Sally and Simon would be nice.

'You'll be fine.' Our elderly neighbour said with an encouraging smile. 'You're pretty and hard-working and you're a talented young thing. You have a big future ahead of you.'

'I hope so.' I said softly as the news finished.

'Stew tonight.' Sally said, bringing around our food. Ms Creedy tucked in straight away, grabbing extra bread to dip in the gravy, and I wondered if perhaps she hadn't eaten all day. The thought made me feel sad. She was getting older by the day and was often unwell. I made a mental note to drop round some extra food for her, even if it meant sacrificing my own.

'It's delicious.' She said with a nod of satisfaction. 'Sally, Simon, thank you.'

'It's no problem at all.' Sally replied with a warm smile. The title sequence to The Royal Review started and we all ate in silence as Norm Matthews, celebrity host, introduced the show. As usual, the King and Queen sat on plush red chairs behind him, the King in royal dress and the Queen in a glamorous satin gown, both with crowns on their heads. The four sons who still lived in the palace were behind them, the other three off working in the military. There was no doubt that there was a good gene pool; the whole family were ridiculously attractive, especially the princes, and it was like God had created them simply for girls to swoon over. It was cruel really. But, their personalities didn't live up to their looks, as I was often saying to Ellen.

Prince Trace was the eldest, and heir to the throne. He still lived in the palace and worked alongside his parents, who were training him up for the day they decided to hand over the crown. He had been a bit of a bad boy as a teenager but now seemed to have grown out of it. Then there was Uriel, Victor and Will, who were all off working in the military somewhere disclosed. Prince Xavier was a sports enthusiast, but was also training to be a healer. Prince Yves was the second-youngest but had the biggest brains and he already worked with a lot of companies to improve security and he had been looking into developing some new technology. And finally there was Prince Zed, a similar age to myself. His parents seemed to spend a lot of time bailing him out and I wondered how often King Saul and Queen Karla had to have the greys dyed out of their hair. Seven boys was a lot to handle, as well as a whole country.

'Good evening.' The King said, taking his place at the microphone with his wife at his side. Three of the four princes stood with serious expressions. Prince Zed, however, looked bored and perhaps even a little irritated. 'Today we have a big announcement and an unexpected one at that.' He said. He smiled across at his wife. 'As you are aware, we take our duties to this country very seriously and we know it is important that as your monarchy, we set the standards high. Unfortunately, our youngest son, Prince Zed, has been receiving a lot of bad press recently…'

'Just recently?' Simon snorted and Ms Creedy shot him a silencing look, which made me laugh.

'Therefore, we have decided to work together with the public as part of our new mission. We would like to try to find a princess, a future wife for his highness Prince Zed.' King Saul announced and I gawped in response. How did they intend to do that? Prince Trace, Prince Uriel, Prince Victor and Prince Will all had had girlfriends in the past and it wouldn't be long until there was a royal wedding, now that Prince Trace was engaged, but Prince Zed… a husband? He was seventeen like I was. The youngest of them all. Not to mention that he was untameable. It was laughable.

'We will be inviting all girls in our country between the ages of seventeen and nineteen to apply to be part of this process. Twenty girls will be chosen to come and live in the palace and Prince Zed will get to know each girl individually before hopefully finding his match and the girl he wants to marry.' Queen Karla said.

'Every eligible girl in every province will be receiving an application form in the post tomorrow. It is not compulsory to enter, but this is a wonderful opportunity and we encourage all girls interested to apply.' King Saul said with a smile. 'Thank you and goodnight.'

The last shot showed Prince Zed squirming in his seat before the broadcast was cut off. Something told me he wasn't excited about this.

I snapped my head back to my food only to find three pairs of eyes staring at me. 'What?'

'You're seventeen.' Ms Creedy pointed out. 'Will you be applying, dear?'

'Don't be ridiculous.' I laughed. 'The whole thing sounds completely insane.' Not to mention the Prince is a complete ass, but I kept that bit to myself.

'You'd get to live at the palace.' Sally said, softly. 'Even if it was just for a bit, it might be enough to get your name out there, set a future up for yourself.'

'Something to do when school finishes.' Ms Creedy added and I wondered if they were all conspiring against me.

'Prince Zed is notorious for his partying.' I wrinkled my nose. 'Why on earth would you want me caught up with that?'

'Because I think this signals his partying has stopped.' Sally said. 'It sounds like the King and Queen are trying to get him on the straight and narrow.'

'And sending twenty girls to live in the palace is going to do that?'

'I see your point completely. He is a teenage boy after all.' Simon frowned.

'I bet they have a music room filled with instruments.' Ms Creedy said. 'It always looks so beautiful in the pictures… just to go to the palace.'

No.

As I laid in bed that night, I knew many girls would be staying up, trying to think of what to write in their application forms. They would be up, looking at pictures of Prince Zed and dreamily rehearsing how they would greet him if they were even chosen. I was the opposite. I sat, staring at my guitar, thinking of how ridiculous the whole thing was. But what if they did have a music room? I bet they had a beautiful antique grand piano…

No.

The whole thing was ridiculous. Completely.

How were they expecting to find someone who could make Prince Zed a better person?

That would require a miracle.

'What do you mean you're not applying? Are you mad?' Ellen said the following day. We were sat in her small garden, a rarity in our province. The sun was high and the sky was cloudless, a perfect warm summer's day in our country.

'Am I mad? You're actually considering this?' I looked at her in disbelief.

'Of course I'm considering it. Like I've said before, Prince Zed is ridiculously hot.'

'But he's an arrogant bad boy.'

'Perhaps, but maybe he can be changed?' She looked thoughtful. 'Maybe he's not met the right girl yet. The girl who can reach into his soul…'

'You've been reading Fitzgerald again.'

She smiled, her green eyes twinkling in the sunlight. They looked mischievous. 'Everyone loves a good romance, a good fairytale… and what's more fairy tale than changing the naughty Prince into a sap?' Her smile was wiped as she looked at her tiny two-bedroom cottage, the one she shared with a brother and her two parents. 'Besides, if it gets my family out of this place, then who cares if he's an ass? Anything has to be better than this.'

'It's a big sacrifice.' I replied, my voice barely a whisper.

She gave a grim nod. 'It is, but you're always saying how much you'd like to get Sally and Simon out of this place. We've spoken for years about moving our families to a nice place in the city or even a beautiful property in the countryside… you've always wanted a steady income and a garden to raise children in. Surely this is a chance at that? A chance at happiness for your family? And safety?'

She was right. I wondered how I'd been so selfish. It was a chance at happiness. An unlikely one, but if it meant moving Sally and Simon to a nicer, warmer house and to have a garden…

'It's here!' Ellen's mother ran into the garden, a pleased look on her face. She held up the envelope in her hand, the one with the royal seal pressed in wax on the back. Ellen snatched it out of her hand without hesitation and pulled out the letter. I leaned over her shoulder, reading the information with her.

Dear Miss E Brown,

You are invited to apply for the Royal Selection, where Prince Zed will hopefully be meeting his future wife. The chosen twenty girls will require poise, talent and strong-willed and will need to be excellent role models and representatives of our country. They will be moved to the palace where they will live until they are removed from the competition and they may be evicted at any time. Whilst in the competition, their families will be receiving money for stability reasons and the amount is dependent on which province the girl is from. The top ten candidates and their families will be provided new accommodation in Goldlyn.

We encourage all girls interested to take part, completing the enclosed application form and send this via post as soon as possible. The closing date is on July 15th and the lucky girls will be chosen on July 20th.

We look forward to hearing from you.

His Majesty, King Saul.

Ellen let out a breath I didn't even know she'd been holding and turned to the application form. It was two pages in length. It asked for easy-to-fill-out information such as address, healer information, education information and date of birth. Then came the questions you had to answer about hobbies and interests and, naturally, why you would be an ideal candidate.

'It's like a job interview.' Ellen sighed.

'It is a job interview.' I replied. 'For a princess.'

'Are you staying for dinner, Sky?' Ellen's mother asked me. 'I'll pick up some more from the grocers if needed.'

'It's fine.' I said, standing up and grabbing my textbooks. I always felt guilty about staying for dinner, especially as I knew it was hard enough just feeding your own family. 'I was just heading off anyway.'

'You girls have worked hard today. Final assignment all finished?'

'Yes.' Ellen smiled. 'So now we can focus on the application.' She gave me a hug. 'I'll see you at school Monday?'

'See you.'

It was a thirty minute walk back to my house from Ellen's. She lived near the school, in the older part of town, whereas we lived closer to the newer part, where the art galleries and some museums were. My paint-splattered tunic stuck to my back as I walked and I ignored the glances of older men and the teenage boys that wolf-whistled as I passed. It was all a game to them. Watching a petite blonde walk past in ripped leggings and an old baggy tunic. I was hardly dressed sexy or even pretty; I only owned leggings and old tunics and I had one floor-length black dress that came out for special occasions or for funerals.

'Hi Sky.' Damon, a boy from my street, appeared in front of me. He wore his blacksmith's apprentice's uniform and it was clear he was just heading home after a long day at work. His skin was tanned from the sun and his face and hands grubby.

'Hi Damon.' I replied shyly. Ellen always teased me, saying that he had a thing for me but I knew that was a load of rubbish. He liked Ellen though. There was something about the way his eyes lit up when he saw her which gave him away.

'Have you been to the post office?' He looked at my hands as if that would give him the clue and then I realised what he was looking for; the letter. My application form.

'Oh, no.' I said, feeling the blush of my cheeks. 'Actually I've just been at Ellen's. We had some final schoolwork to finish.'

'Are you going to apply?' He asked.

'I'm not sure.' I said and he nodded, simply.

'Is Ellen?'

'She was just about to fill out her application when I left.'

His smile faltered slightly and rubbed his arm self-consciously. 'Fair enough. Well see you later?'

'Sure.'

The house was strangely quiet when I let myself in and I crept quietly. My heart sank at the sound of tears coming from the kitchen and I paused in the hallway, not wanting to disturb Sally and Simon's conversation.

'It'll be fine.' He said, trying to reassure her. 'We'll get the money.'

'Our rent on this place is already behind.' She said, her voice sad. 'I don't know how much more time they're going to give us and if we're kicked out…' Her voice cracked. 'Where will we go?'

I spotted the letter with my name on sat on the stairs in front of me, staring me right in the face. I knew what I needed to do.