I keeled down in the Keeling's front yard, pulling weeds from their beautiful selection of roses. Standing up, I grabbed my bag of weeds and started to walk around the back of the house, lifting up the trashcan lid and dropping them in.

Wiping the mud off my watch, I grinned, satisfied with the time it took me to tidy up the garden.

I walked across the yard, and walked down the street towards the train station.

                                                                                                            ~

"I'm home!" I called, as I locked the front door of the house I shared with my mother and sister.

Our family hasn't been gifted with the best of luck. Our dad left when he realized that Kailey wasn't normal. Due to the muscle deformation in her legs, she can't walk, therefore she can't work. When my mom refused to abandon her, he left. Not wanting to have to take care of someone who couldn't repay him.

So here we are now, four years later. Kailey's eight, and I'm eighteen.

I'm working double shifts, so mom can stay home with Kailey most days to keep her company.

Walking into the creaky kitchen, I'm greeted by two grinning faces. The table is set, with bread and a bowl of broth in front of all three chairs.

"What's going on?" I asked nervously, not used to having everything set before I get home.

Kailey nodded to middle of the table, looking like she was going to explode out of her chair.

I walked closer to them, spotting an envelope on the table with my name on it, already ripped open, then tapped shut. I felt a laugh catch in my throat, as I picked it up, re-opening the envelope.

"Dear  Cameilla Grace of  Aurora, as you know our very own Prince Cameron Corrigan has come to the age where he is in need of a partner. This partner will not only become his spouse, but help him lead the nation, as a queen when he becomes king. If you are receiving this er, that means you have made the restrictions of being a selection girl. If you are interested, fill out form attached to this letter. Go to your local post office, where pictures will be taken of to you go along with your form. All forms will be due in two weeks."

I looked up at them, my eyebrows knitted together.

"Why are you guys so excited?" I asked, seriously confused. "When was the last time a Seven even got into the selection?" When I saw their faces drop, my heart sunk.

"Wait guys! Smile! I'll put my application in I promise. Let's eat!" I grinned sitting with them.

"How was work honey?" Mom cooed, nibbling a little on her bread.

"It was cool, I got the Keeling's front and back gardens done." I spoke with my mouthful as I stuffed food in my face. I always had trouble savoring food. In the winter, when there were no gardens and we rarely ate, I still scarfed down my little food like Pac-man on steroids.

"You're such a pig Cami." Kailey complained as she dunked her bread into her 1/2 cup of soup. "Even if we got lucky enough to get you sent to the palace, you'd get thrown out the first day once he saw you eat!"

I looked up from my now empty plate and glared at her.

"Now that was rude." I mumbled.

Once mom finished eating, I got up and picked up everyone's dishes and water cups. I grabbed a cloth and walked out the back door. I kneeled down by the brook that ran two feet from our back door, and scrubbed the plates, then dried them.

"Need any help?" Kailey called from inside the house, leaning on her crutches.

"Naw, I'm good!" I yelled back, picking up all the dishes and walking back inside. "Do I have time to do the laundry before the broadcast?" I asked as I set our dishes back into our broken cabinet.

"About a half an hour!" My mom called from the TV room, as she helped Kailey change into her pajamas.

We kept two beds in our TV instead of a couch, since Kailey needed a room, but couldn't get up the stairs, and my mom wanted to stay near her at all times. That means I got the loft.

It's hard to believe she's only eight. She's got enough sass to be my age.

I walked up our stairs, which were the kind that were very steep and winded upwards. They lead to the small loft that hung over the TV room. It was just big enough for a bed, night stand and dresser.

I kept things simple with a sheet for a blanket, and a oil lamp instead of electrical.

I peeled off my muddy gardening clothes, which happened to be a black tank top and denim shorts that were so worn they felt like cloth.

I have to admit, I had it pretty good in this house, I had my own bathroom. I was thankful for not having to share with my family every single day.

I trotted into the bathroom and took a quick shower just scrubbing myself with soap that I got for my birthday last month.

After I finally got all the dirt off me, I turned off the shower and hopped out, wrapping a towel around me. I wrung out my large curly mane of brown hair. I would cut it short, but then I couldn't wear it in a ponytail, which is my go to hairstyle.

I slipped into cloth shorts and my other black tank top, shoving all my muddy clothes in a small wicker laundry basket we have.

Running down the stairs, I picked up Kailey's and my mom's clothes from the floor of the TV room floor and walked outside towards the brook.

                                                                                                 ~

After hanging up all the soaked, clean clothes on a clothing line, I hurried inside.

"Has it started yet?" I asked, jumping into Kailey's bed.

"No! And tie your mane back, it's taking up my breathing room!" Kailey complained from behind me.

As I started to french braid my hair, my watch beeped informing us that it was eight o'clock and the Illean Report was due to start any second.

Right on time, Gavril strutted across the stage and started talking.

I tied off my braid and leaned back into the bed, listening to his familiar voice.