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Several other families and girls were all talking to one another: some muttering on about the raffle, some commenting on how the prince might actually look like, and others were judging the competition they where forced to meet with. But all where forced to wait while the woman at the front desk wandered away to deliver all the photos to the waiting royal family.

It took nearly two hours for decisions to be made, before the same woman came out ringing a small bell, "Attention All!" She called out, "The royal family has decreed that these women shall be chosen for the hand of the prince!" She announced before reading off the names. Each girl squealed or grinned from pride when their names were heard, until the last name was read, "And finally, Samara from Rank 5."

When the week passed, and Samara was brought to the palace, the royal family was waiting in the main lobby patiently while each girl was brought in with their belongings for the stay there. The king and queen were silent and almost statue-like as they watched, but it was the prince and princess who were the more curious ones. The Prince stared at the girls and tilted his head seeing how each girl was holding herself, and just sighed, "great. . .more divas. . ."

The prince watched her curiously and almost perked up seeing her. Of course, out of all the girls, she was the more noticeable. She wasn't dolled up or covered in heavy dresses and robes. She was just. . .natural. That made the prince smile a little bit before the king clapped to get the attention of all the girls, "Welcome." He called out, his voice echoing in the hall, "you were all brought here today to win the hand of my eldest son. We chose you all believe you have unique qualities about you, but it is my son who makes the decision at the end. Sabotage will not be permitted, or go unnoticed. . .I probably wont have to tell you about the consequences. Are we all clear?"

The prince bit his lip and looked towards his mother for a moment before breathing out and heading away to the room his parents had pointed out earlier in the day. He was nervous about meeting with the girls and almost didn't want to go through the hassle, but he was going to turn 19. And that meant sooner or later, he was going to have to take a bride.

So he sat down and spoke with each girl, growing a little bored or even more nervous after each time, until he finally called in Samara to meet with him. He brushed down his shirt and made sure his hair was straight, "c-come in." He called out.

The prince was a little surprised to hear her rank, but when she began to say her speech, he held his hand up to stop her and just tried to smile, "Please. . .there's no need to sound like all those other girls out there. . .and I dont want to hear about your job. Tell me about YOU. . . .is there a particular instrument you like playing?" He asked and leaned forward on the table, "and you can just call me Eli." He nodded and laced his hands together.

Eli sat up a little more and watched her before chuckling out, holding his mouth so it didn't become a full grown laughter, "that's the first time someone's asked to be honest with me. . .But I'm going to be honest with you now. I don't care about rank, and I really don't care for all the ceremonies that this is involved with." He explained before shaking his head. He already knew he was going to enjoy this girl's company, "I'm going to pick. . ..just based on how you all are. And so far, you're the most interesting out of all the porcelain dolls waiting outside."

"I can't say I'm much of a reader but. . .but I do enjoy helping my mother with her garden. She always has such beautiful and sometimes plants I've never heard of before! perhaps I can show you sometime." Eli suggested with a smile and reached out to try and take Samara's hand, but he stopped and straightened up when one of the many butlers came in, "the five minutes is up, sire, and it is time for dinner."

The boy grumbled and stood from his chair. He would have to make a mental note to try and talk to Samara sometime later, without some kind of interruption. . .if that was possible, "Lady Samara," He said, doing his best to be polite, "Would you like for me to escort you to dinner?"