The Selection [RP] discussion
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Evangeline had so much to do today. She had to greet her selected, an utterly odious task. She detested the idea of the Selection, an absolutely archaic practice. But before she had to do that, she had to pick out the perfect ensemble. It needed to be elegant without a doubt, and never gauche. Evangeline detested the tacky clothing tastes of the upper castes, it really made them look like a four or five when they dressed so ridiculously. She abhorred to even entertain the thought of marrying a commoner, as it simply made her shudder-- but here it was, staring her down.
Stepping out of the rose petal laden bathtub, her fingers glided over the swan shaped taps as she walked over to her boudoir. Sitting down on her chair, she swam her fingers through jewels before deciding on a pair of emerald earrings to match her eyes. Maybe a necklace? Standing up and brushing off her maids for privacy, Evangeline browsed through the rack of dresses, still un-sure, before landing on an dark green silk gown. She had a matching pair of shoes too: she had planned on wearing the outfit to greet the Italian royal family last week, but the Italians cancelled for some unknown reason.
Eva wondered if she was possibly overdoing the whole "coordinating-my-outfit-to-my-eye-color" thing, but she couldn't help it she had the most stunning eyes in all of Illea. How many other people could boast having deep green eyes?
Ruminating over her impending doom, Evangeline allowed her maids to enter to do her hair. One of her new maids was an utter dunce and only sticking around because Ophelia had mentioned it was "utterly barbaric" to fire maids so often. Poor, stupid Phee and her people pleasing ways. Who cared if a maid got fired? She had still burnt the hem of Eva's party dress before an important diplomat was set to arrive.
Prince Adrien was clad in an all black suit with a baby blue bowtie peaking out from under his collar. He didn’t bother looking in mirrors as he walked through the castle. There was no need. With a face and body like his, and an outfit that matched the colors of his eyes, the prince already knew he looked amazing. As he swept through the castle, he stopped at Eva’s suite. His twin sister, the princess of Illéa, his female counterpart. Without taking much time to think about it, Adrien rapped on the door a few times, ignoring the maids talking to him.
Adrien was never much of a patient person, and went in without waiting for a response from Evangeline. One of his favorite things to do was bother his sister, and he knew that entering a room without permission irked her. “Eva.” He said upon entering, arching an eyebrow. “I see you’re excited to get started.” She looked gorgeous, he had to admit. But after all, she was his twin, of course she looked like that.
With a scrunched up nose, Adrien looked his sister up and down. “You don’t think that wearing your hair like that is a bit much? I think a simple updo would look better. It gives us more of your face to see.” Another thing that irked his twin was Adrien acting like he knew more than her when it came to certain things— fashion was one of them. Sure, Adrien knew his stuff when it came to looking good (after all, he literally looked good full time), but Eva hailed herself as the expert of all things holy in that department.
Swooping her waved hair over her shoulder, Eva feigned that his comment or his presence were a nuisance. "Nonsense, Quince. And even if it was a bit much, these suitors will still beg to lick my heels." Perhaps the last comment was a bit much, but in Eva's mind, it was true. "I cherish your presence dear brother, but isn't there somewhere else you need to be? Namely, greeting the teeming masses in the introduction room?"
Evangeline had planned on making her contestants (as she had been referring to them) wait for at least ten minutes after Adrien arrived. Nothing to start off the Selection like a bit of mild terror and anxious waiting for her appearance.
Adrien took note of his sister’s sarcasm and chose to ignore it. “Why thank you. I get it from my twin sister.” Fired her own comment right back at her with a wink. In actuality, he knew he looked good, and knew that Evangeline looked good as well.
“Yes, we know, Eva. Because you’re the best.” Adrien rolled his eyes, watching her. He didn’t have much room to taunt her though, he was pretty much the exact same way. “Haven’t you ever heard of being fashionably late, Princess?” He tilted his chin up, staring at her with his bright blue eyes. A quick glance at the designer watch on his wrist told him that they were already late, but not late enough to make a statement.
Adrien was actually a bit excited to meet his potentional suitors. The Selection was an exciting time for Illéa, and he was to be in the center of it all. Alongside his sister, of course.
Turning away from the mirror to properly face her twin brother, Eva sighed. "Let's hope Phee doesn't ruin this whole thing." She sighed. "She's rather uncouth." While Evangeline prided herself on decorum and manners at all times (except in the case of revolting people, such as sixes and below) she was generally a restrained person, while Ophelia had a tendency to not be as restrained as her older sister.
"I hope you don't actually fall in love with any of these dunces." Eva said dramatically, adjusting her earrings . "I think the Selection is so revolting. I deserve so much better than some farmer. And you as well Adrien." She added, tacking on the last statement as an afterthought. After all, Evangeline was supremely self-centered. Waving her maids out with a dismissive flick of her wrist, Evangeline rose. "Might as well go now. After you, dear brother." she said in a dispassionate voice.
Evangeline had never really had any romantic endeavors, with the exception of the Italian prince and a crazed stalker who had stayed outside of the palace gates for a couple days, demanding to see "the love of his life, Princess Evangeline", before she had sentenced him to death. Ha, true love.
Adrien put a hand up to his hair and touched it, making sure it was still gelled exactly into place. “Give Phee a break, Eva. She’s just a kid.” Even though the Prince knew that his younger sister wasn’t a kid anymore, he still treated her like one. She was the baby of the family, and Adrien treated her that way. It was hard not too, especially because she was so innocent and youthful.
The idea of the Selection wasn’t as bad to Adrien as it was to his twin sister. Adrien was a bit of a romantic, and was actually hoping to gain something out of this. If not a spouse, then at least some life experience. He’d spent his whole life between the walls of the castle, he couldn’t help but want to know more about life beyond royalty. Not that he would ever give up his royal status, of course.
“Shall we, Princess?” Adrien extended a hand, gesturing for Eva to walk ahead of him. “Ladies first.” He was ever the gentleman, to his sisters and to other ladies. Almost the complete opposite of Evangeline, who was quick to be rude to literally anyone. Adrien was patient and polite, a stark comparison to his twin.
“Romance is over rated. If mother and father weren’t trying so desperately to appease the public, we could find suitable matches. But instead, I have to grit my teeth and bear it while I marry some dimwit from Yukon, just so the royal family can look less exclusive.” Evangeline could sense a rant coming on, so she but her tongue. Moving ahead of her twin, Eva pushed open the door and walked in the direction of the introduction room. There was no way she’d risk the chance of ruining her dress via Ophelia, who had a tendency to run around with foodstuffs.
[ making it seem like ophelia is terrible; my poor daughter deserves better ]
Eva pushed open the gilded doors to her suite, and sat down a settee to take off her shoes. Ruminating over the recent events, she tried to pinpoint any valuable contenders for herself. There had been a few rather attractive men, but nobody extraordinary. Instructing a maid to put her shoes away, Evangeline flipped through a copy of a tabloid, carefully inspecting the gpssip column for Selection rumors. She skimmed the column before finding Luciana— Aldaine, that’s why her last name sounded so familiar! Evangeline made sure to star her name so she could come back later. Her eyes scanned the magazine, frowning when she saw one of the Selected was in a circus. Really? Evangeline should’ve had her vetted more thoroughly, she could’ve brought in fleas to the palace. Taking a permanent marker, she marked a small X next to the name.
Now, where was Ophelia? Evangeline had sent a letter to her this morning, telling her to meet Evangeline in her suite after the Selected introduction speech. It was crucial Ophelia didn’t leave a bad mark upon the royal family by doing something embarrassing around the Selected. Without Evangeline’s guidance, Phee would— that would be a possibility too difficult to imagine for Eva.
Blonde tendrils framed plump, round cheeks and cascaded down a slim backside, the ends bobbing as she walked through the grand halls of the palace. Two guards flanked her sides, ensuring that they would protect her at all costs, even while she was mindlessly strolling through the halls. Only, she had ceased her wandering minutes before when she'd received a letter from her dearest elder sister that she was being summoned to her suite.
A cherry lollipop was held by her teeth, the thin white stick hanging between her red-stained lips. Ophelia Schreave would've looked like a regular girl had it not been for the dress she was fitted in, the silky lilac material brushing against her skin with every step she made, bound towards her sister's suite.
Though she wondered why Evangeline had asked to see her, Ophelia promised to arrive as soon as possible.
She presumed it had to do with the current events being held — the Selection. An event she'd been looking forward to since it was first proposed when the twins had just turned nineteen, Ophelia quickly grew accustomed to the seventy visitors, and often made time to speak with the Selected, wanting to learn more about them on her own terms. Many she had found interesting, and many she had pitied as they were far from compatible to Evangeline and Adrien, but she continued to silently root for them, wishing them nothing but the best.
Finally, her and her guards reached Evangeline's suite, and the guards pushed open the doors, holding it open for Ophelia. She stepped in, taking the lollipop out of her mouth and letting it dangle between her pointer finger and middle finger. "Morning, Eva," she greeted, offering a wobbly curtsy, grinning at her sister.
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Evangeline turned her head when it opened to reveal her younger sister. Noting Ophelia’s wobbly curtsy, Evangeline critically said,” Your curtsy could use some work.” as a form of greeting, before gesturing for Ophelia to sit in an armchair opposite her. Evangeline had never been a loving sibling, doting on Ophelia like Adrien did. Instead, Eva was more pre-occupied on how the royal family appeared.
“I hear you’ve been meeting with some of the Selected.” Evangeline paused to assess Ophelia— what emotions came across her face? Going on, Evangeline spoke again. “Now, that simply won’t do. We shouldn’t raise the hopes of any of these... suitors.” After all, Eva planned eliminating most of them in the coming week. “And for the girls, well, I think a suitable match has been found for Adrien.” Not that she had told Adrien of course. Adrien enjoyed the chase of romantic relations, but Eva was confident he’d make the right pick (her pick, that is) in the end.
Before seating herself in the armchair, Ophelia waited until the guards left the room, the doors closing with a satisfying click a few short seconds after. She looked again at Evangeline, the smile still on her face. "My curtsy is one of excellence and perfection," she started, lowering herself into the seat and smoothing down the back of her skirt to sit on it, as she'd been taught as a child. "I just didn't put in effort as it was just you. Now if it was a diplomat, then that would be a different story."
Ever since childhood, and even now through her early stages of adulthood, she'd never been one to pick up on the way that Evangeline nit-picked everything she'd done and turned a cold shoulder otherwise. In Ophelia's doe brown eyes, her sister was a role model — save for the few times Ophelia didn't agree with her sister's actions and spoke out about it.
She listened on to what her sister had to say, popping the lollipop back into her mouth, crossing and uncrossing her ankles in a rhythmic pattern. Never able to sit still, Ophelia always had to be doing something, whether it was holding something in her hands, curling her toes within the confines of her heels, or swinging her feet around. At first, she was uninterested in what her sister had to say; it was obvious that Ophelia would still meet with the Selected, whether or not she was forbidden to. However, she visibly perked up when Eva shared that she had already found a suitable match for their brother. "Really?" she asked around the lollipop. "Who?"
“Ophelia, you will not be privy to that information. Goodness knows what you’d do— probably go blabbing to the scullery maids and that Gavril Fadaye phony.” Evangeline was referring to Cyrilla of course. Cyrilla was utterly vile, but popular with the populace, the only reason she was still in her position. That, and her uncanny knack for soothing citizens after rebel attacks. Looking at Ophelia with a critic’s eye, Eva snapped,” Stop fidgeting!” Taking a deep breath and a demure sip of tea, Evangeline continued on. “Meeting the selected as a family,” she stressed, forcefully putting her teacup on the saucer,” will occur later in the Selection, when the contestant pool is a bit more intimate. For now, please refrain from interacting with the Selected as much as possible.”
Chuckling, she brushed stray blonde strands of hair away from her face and behind her ears. "Mom and dad don't mind," Ophelia shared truthfully. "They say it's part of my charm." Compared to the rest of her family, she stuck out like a sore thumb because of her short stature, big eyes, and innocent elegance. Her charm is what Illea called it, never holding her endearing and out-of-place quirks against her.
"But if you'd prefer that I use appropriate etiquette when greeting you, then I will do as such," she added, smiling. There was nothing else that she wanted more than making others happy. A maid offered her tea and she pondered whether to have some, glancing down at the lollipop, then at the teacup Evangeline was holding. "No, thank you," she finally answered, watching the maid return to her spot.
Looking back at her sister again, she pouted. Ophelia was not one to be in constant contact with Cyrilla, and while she held respect towards the castle maids, she didn't speak much with them other than to make small talk. "I can keep secrets, Eva," she said simply. Her pout deepened when Eva suddenly snapped at her for continuously moving her ankles. "Sorry," she muttered, looking away and training her gaze on her ankles to ensure they remained still. Obviously, she was doing something terribly wrong for such a sharp tone to be used on her.
