Read The Prince: A Selection Novella (HarperTeen Impulse) for Free Online Page B

had to. I had to prove, finally, that I could lead, make decisions. How else would anyone trust me as their king? How would the king himself trust me at all?
    I focused on standouts. Celeste . . . I remembered the name. One of my advisors had mentioned she was a model and showed me a picture of her in a bathing suit on the glossy pages of a magazine. She was probably the sexiest candidate, and I certainly wouldn’t hold that against her. Lyssa jumped out at me, but not in a good way. Unless she had a winning personality, she wasn’t even in the running. Maybe that was a bit shallow, but was it so bad that I wanted someone attractive? Ah, Elise. Based on the exotic slant of her eyes, she was the girl Father had mentioned who had family in New Asia. She’d be in the running on that alone.
    America.
    I studied her picture. Her smile was absolutely radiant.
    What made her smile so brightly, then? Was it me? Had whatever she felt for me that day passed? She didn’t seem very happy to meet me. But . . . she did smile in the end.
    Tomorrow I would have to start fresh with her. I wasn’t sure of what I was looking for, but so much of what seemed right was staring back at me in that photograph. Maybe it was her will or her honesty, maybe it was the soft skin on the back of her hand or her perfume . . . but I knew, with a singular clarity, that I wanted her to like me.
    How exactly was I supposed to do that?

CHAPTER 6
    I HELD THE BLUE TIE up. No. The tan? No. Was I going to have this much trouble getting dressed every day?
    I wanted to make a good first impression with these girls—and a good second impression with one—and apparently I was convinced this all hung on picking out the right tie. I sighed. These girls were already turning me into a puddle of stupid.
    I tried to follow my mother’s advice and be myself, flaws and all. Going with the first tie I’d picked up, I finished getting dressed and smoothed my hair back.
    I walked out the door and found my parents by the stairwell having a hushed conversation. I debated taking a back route, not wanting to interrupt them, but my mother waved me over.
    Once I reached them, she started tugging on my sleeves, then moved to my back to smooth my coat. “Remember,” she said, “they’re swarming with nerves, and the thing to do right now is make them feel at home.”
    “Act like a prince,” Father urged. “Remember who you are.”
    “There’s no rush to make a decision.” Mom touched my tie. “That’s a nice one.”
    “But don’t keep anyone around if you know you don’t want them. The sooner we get to the true candidates, the better.”
    “Be polite.”
    “Be confident.”
    “Just talk.”
    Father sighed. “This isn’t a joke. Remember that.”
    Mom held me at arm’s length. “You’re going to be fantastic.” She pulled me in for a big hug, and backed away to restraighten everything.
    “All right, son. Go on,” Father said, gesturing to the stairs.
    “We’ll be waiting in the dining hall.”
    I felt dizzy. “Um, yes. Thank you.”
    I paused for a minute to catch my breath. I knew they were trying to help, but they’d managed to throw off any sense of calm I’d built. I reminded myself that this was just me saying hello, that the girls were hoping this would work out as much as I was.
    And then I remembered that I was going to get to speak to America again. At the very least, that should be entertaining. With that in mind I breezed down the stairs to the first floor and made my way to the Great Room. I took one deep breath and gave a knock on the door before pulling it open.
    There, past the guards, waited the collection of girls. Cameras flashed, capturing both their reaction and mine. I smiled at their hopeful faces, feeling calmer just because they all looked so pleased to be here.
    “Your Majesty.” I turned and caught Silvia coming up from her curtsy. I nearly forgot that she would be there, instructing them in protocol the way she