Calypso's masquerade ball dress and mask in the media.
One week later...

Calypso's POV

I release a sigh as I look at the newspaper that came out today. We haven't been let out of our rooms except for to eat breakfast with the royal family. They're set in finding out who attacked the Piper girl.

Attack in the Palace?

A week ago to this day, one of the Selected ladies was brutally attacked. Piper McLean, daughter of the Tristan McLean, famous actor, was attacked by another girl, suspected to also be one of the Selected.

The palace has been dubbed as one of the safest places in all of Illea. But after this attack, citizens have been wondering. If it's so safe, how did McLean get attacked in the first place? Guards have confessed that their training was very "simple" and "not very useful for long-term commitment".

How has the elite team of guards gone down so quickly? It's suspected that they accept too many Sixes and use them as guards, knowing that they come from an unfavorable background. More Threes and Four's should be accepted and Sixes should be cut back, if not mostly, then entirely.

Sixes do not deserve the same chances that upper classes have. Twos and Threes work harder than a Six ever have, and ever will. Upper classes seem to have limited choices compared to the Sixes. They're stealing the chances of Twos, Threes, and Fours.

How do we change this? Possibly by eliminating all Sixes from the Selection and the Guards. If more extreme measures should be taken, we must alert the Royal family of all that the Sixes are taking away from us.

Tears stinging my eyes, I throw the paper in the trash can. As if Twos and Threes have ever gone hungry, even starving. As if they've ever worked so hard that they had to go through the night without sleeping.

I'm not even a Six; I'm a Five. Yet I know just as much hardship as the two Sixes in the Selection do. It's not fair that the Twos and Threes are trying to tell us they're more important just because of their Caste.

Angry, I walk outside and onto my balcony. It doesn't overlook the gardens, even though that's what I had hoped for. So I created my own garden on the terrace.

Plants spill over the sides, cascading down the palace walls. Their leaves turn up to accept the gift of life in the form of sunlight. Flowers range in colors, varying from reds to blues.

I lean down and start weeding. Gardening helps calm me down, as does weaving. I was a weaver back home and I was good at it. At least there I knew what to do and what was expected of me. Here, I try to fit in, but can't.

Prince Percy announced a few days ago that we would be having a masquerade ball this coming Saturday. Today was Thursday and I haven't even begun to make my dress. I should be finished by now. I love sewing dresses and designing. But I'm worried that my dress will stand out too much.

Dark gray clouds roll in, blocking out the sun. I can smell the rain before it comes. Disappointed, I head back inside.

I sit down at my sewing table and stare at the blank piece of paper laying in front of me. Nothing has ever seemed so vacant and hopeless. I pick up a  pen, hoping to somehow get inspiration. I look out my window and see that rain has started to fall, gently. The sun is peeking through the side of one cloud, not completely covered yet.

Before I know what I'm doing, the pen is moving. I first make the form of the dress, loose and elegant. The sleeves hug the shoulders loosely and the dress itself has countless ruffles.

The dress will take a lot of time to make. Including the mask, it may take days, maybe even a week. I only have today, tomorrow, and Saturday. If I want it to be finished in time, I better get started. Finding a mask may be a whole job in itself. And disguising myself may have its benefits. Possibly resulting in dancing with the prince.