Yes sir! Another selection story, from the selecting princess's perspective. Moir is such a fun character, and I've enjoyed writing Grayton's story. I hope you enjoy, and I ask that you suggest whatever you think would be cool to see in the comments! Love you guys!
(AND SPECIAL THANKS TO _marxoxo_ FOR PUTTING UP WITH ME XD LOVE YOU FAM!)
-MaddieBee
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Princess Moir of Scotland inhaled deeply as she stepped off of the plane, her 14 hour flight from Glasgow, Scotland, to Angeles, Illéa, starting to wear on her body. She looked around and smiled weakly at King Grayton, who was greeting Moir along with the other princess, Princess Odessa.

Long story short, Moir had been sent by her parents to find a husband and future king of Scotland. She ran a hand through her blonde mane as she was escorted to the castle, Odessa and Amberly, the two other princesses, following her not too far behind. Princess Odessa was from England, and Moir barely knew her. Princess Amberly was from Illéa, specifically Grayton's little sister, and was getting ready to be married off as well.

A maid showed Moir to her bedroom for the next few months to potentially a year, which was nice and spacious, complete with a keyboard and an empty book to write songs in. She set her smaller bags onto her bed and collapsed on the marshmallow-like mattress. Her big chocolate brown eyes looked up at the ceiling, and Moir let her made up eyelids fall. She was so tired. Moir couldn't remember if Grayton had said it was mandatory to be present at dinner, but by this point, she didn't care. Moir fell asleep, her heartbeat, which had earlier been drumming in her ears during the descent into Illéa, was now growing more and more faint as her mind slipped away from reality, nightmares about the Selection haunting her.

What if all of the men wanted the others?

I'm nothing like Odessa or Amberly...they have what it takes to win a man's heart.

Sweet Moses in heaven knows I don't...

*

Moir's eyelids rose once more. She was curled up in a ball on her bed. Her body screamed for more sleep. Refusing to give into her needs, Moir got up to see the balcony of her new room. The view was spectacular, but nothing like her view back home. She missed home already.

Can I just go back home and marry the mountains? At least they care about me...

She took a deep breath and let the wind tease her blonde locks as she leaned against the railing separating her from the ground, which she guessed she was about 50 feet up. A maid tapped her shoulder, startling Moir.

"Princess, King Grayton has instructed that you rest for the next few days before you start classes and-"

"They have bloody classes here too?" she groaned. "I'm going back to bed, don't worry," Moir rolled her eyes and went to the bathroom to remove her makeup and change into a nightgown that had been laid out for her. She planned to change into a comfy shirt with sweatpants once the maid left, though.

As the night wore on, Moir couldn't find sleep, even after the big meal she had eaten sent by the kitchen. She had tried TV, with little to no avail, and even tried just closing her eyes, hoping she would fall asleep.

It's every time but the time I'm given to sleep that I want to sleep....

Moir walked over to the keyboard and hit a few keys, testing the sound and reverb of the keyboard. She sat on the little bench and began to play a few songs, her favorite being 'Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?'. Her fingers trilled over the keys, giving a swing vibe to the song. She began to sing along with her playing, smiling softly at the lyrics.

"Who's afraid of the big bad wolf?

The big bad wolf, the big bad wolf.

Who's afraid of the big bad wolf?

Tra la la la la!"

That was her nickname: the Bad Wolf.

Moir was the Big Bad Wolf.

She realized what this selection would be like for her.

It's not a matter of who the Big Bad Wolf can charm, it's Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf and Who Isn't?

What she didn't realize was, there was already one who wasn't afraid of the Big Bad Wolf.

And he was here.