The Rules

LIORA'S POV 

Princess Hilda, busy unpacking her mountain of belongings, asks me casually, “So, is there a specific man you’re hoping the goddess will match you with?”

I let her have the entire closet, because like all the girls here, she practically carried everything she owns from home.I also did carry everything I own since I'm never allowed to go back there. It's in the single bag resting at the foot of my bed.

I shrug. “Not really. What about you?” Honestly, I don’t have a particular prince in mind. I just hope to be matched with a decent human being, someone who won’t treat me like a piece of furniture, someone kind and good-looking. I hope that’s not too much to ask of the goddess.

"Me?" Hilda giggles, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Honestly, I’d die to be mated to the Emperor.” she says.

"The Emperor, huh?” I chuckle, shaking my head. “That’s… ambitious.”

Poor Hilda! I said poor because she set her goals too high. Setting her sights on the Emperor is like aiming for the sun. Every princess from the great states dreams the same, and Hilda here is from one of the lowest. The goddess will have her work cut out choosing the Emperor’s mate with so many praying to get him. Honestly, I’d pray too if I knew I have even the slightest of chance. 

I wonder how many of these girls really know the Emperor beyond the stories we all hear or is it just his looks and power they crave?

"Tell me, how much do you actually know about the Emperor?” I ask and Hilda's face lights up like she's been waiting all along for me to ask that.

"Darling, the man is the most perfect male specimen you will ever lay your eyes on. Forget about him being filthy rich, powerful, confident and kind, he’s got looks that could drive you mad.” She gushes. 

Raising an eyebrow, I ask, “You’ve seen him in person?”

“Not exactly,” she says, “If I were to meet him in real life I fear I would not be able to breathe. But I’ve seen plenty of paintings of him.”

Paintings? And she concluded he has all those attributes from paintings? I have to stifle a laugh. Some dreams really don’t see daylight.

“Can’t wait to see that for myself,” I reply, forcing a smile to hide my skepticism.

Hilda beams, brushing invisible crumbs from her emerald-green skirt. “Me too! I wish I had a skinnier body like yours to flaunt, but I’m all puffy, like over-risen bread. I don’t expect to catch his eye, but even a glance would be a blessing.”

“You look stunning to me!” I reply genuinely. Sure, Hilda’s a little rounder, but her curves are elegant and,frankly, she looks better than Princess Heather in every way that matters. Who decides only skinny girls turns heads, anyway?

"It has been a while since someone complemented my fatness, thank you!" She says with a benign smile. 

I grin. “Your ‘fatness’ has some amazing curves.”

A gentle knock interrupts our mutual confidence-boost. A palace servant, perfectly poised, bows politely at the door. “Ladies, the assembly is about to begin. Please follow me to the grand hall.”

We drop what we’re doing and join the parade of girls filtering through the corridor, all converging toward the palace’s lower wing.

We are guided into a very huge hall with lots of seats. At the far end, a raised platform stands beneath a massive stained-glass window, casting colored light over the polished floors. There is also a built raised alter holding a huge urn.

Lady Eleanor waits at the front, as we pile in and take our seats. 

Hilda and I quickly grab seats, far, far away from Heather and Violette, not that we have much choice, the cluster of royal men trying to be near them makes sure no ordinary girl would dare try to squeeze in. Some people really don’t need a lottery to be surrounded by admirers.

“Welcome, candidates,” Lady Eleanor’s voice echo clearly through the grand hall, capturing everyone’s attention. “I will explain the sacred process of the Mate Lottery.”

She gestures to a servant, who steps forward carrying a silver tray crowded with dozens of smooth, white stones, each no larger than a walnut.

“Each of you will receive one of these white stones,” Lady Eleanor continues. “You must write your initials on it. Guard this stone carefully, it represents your heart’s wish and your faith in our goddess.”

She then motions to the massive urn on the raised altar. Now, I notice it's filled to the brim with a colorless, thick liquid that looks almost glassy. “This,” she says, “is the Heart of fate. Tomorrow, you all will cast your white stone inside and our goddess will guide their path.”

Her eyes sweeps the room, to make sure we all understand. “And when the time comes, the stones will resurface, two by two, revealing the pairs that the goddess has chosen. These pairs will become choosen mates, joined by fate and the goddess’s blessing."

The idea that my mate could be anyone in the room, or possibly not someone I know, sends a mix of excitement and terror through me. I silently pray for a partner who will respect me and value me beyond appearances or status.

Princess Violette’s hand shoots up. “What if I am chosen to be with someone I don’t like?” she asks.

The question sparks immediate murmurs of debate until Lady Eleanor raises her hand for silence. “A thoughtful question. Though our goddess is wise and always chooses the best match, you will have the opportunity to accept or reject the bond once the stones resurface and your mate is revealed, but you must do that before the matebond forms and becomes permanent.”

A wave of relief ripples through the candidates, but my heart pounds with apprehension. What if my chosen mate doesn't like me, or prefers someone else? Surely, the goddess wouldn’t pair people who despise each other, right?

“By the end of the event, those among you who will not have found your chosen mate will face elimination from this sacred process. You will then have two options, to try your luck in the commoners’ urns, or to wait and participate again in the next cycle.” She tells and a hush falls over the whole crowd. Obviously the number of prince's here is way lesser than the number of us princesses, meaning there is indeed a number of us who won't find their mate here. I really hope I won't be among the unlucky ones, as I really need a mate.

Lady Eleanor raises a hand to silence the growing murmurs. “Furthermore, those who will have been rejected by their chosen mate and will have not found another to mate by the day’s end will also be eliminated."

She adds quickly before any complain murmurs can arise. "And for those fortunate enough to be mated and accepted by their mates, goddess Isolde grants you a final blessing, a chance to journey to the Island of Luck, where you may seek her favor and win her three wishes." Then with a graceful nod, she concludes, “That is all. Now, please form a line to receive your white stones.”

A long line is quickly formed and one by one we receive our lucky stones.

Princess Hilda sidles up beside me, after we receive ours. “When you write your initials, you should use my writing feather,” she says eagerly. “My mother took it to the goddess’s temple to have it blessed with good fortune. It’s supposed to bring luck in the Lottery.”

******

Nothing could have thrilled me more at the end of this long day than the sight of a sixty-foot-long, all-you-can eat buffet set for our dinner. It has all various foods and drinks, salads, vegetables, cold meats, fresh eggs, pitchers of juice, bottles of wine. My senses greedily drink it all in. I swear I could get used living in this palace. 

Born in a royal family, I got to eat a lot of good stuff, but there has never been anywhere close to this. I actually have never tasted good wine before.

I load my plate with neat layers of everything.

As I reach for some salad, I suddenly feel a hand clamp tightly around my forearm, sharp fingernails digging in like little claws.

“Hilda! What are you doing?” I whisper, looking down to see her grip like she is clinging for dear life. Her mouth hangs open in awe. Following her stare, I turn to see Prince Callum,the famous son of Alpha Gerald of Silverfall. Everyone knows him as a battle-hardened little warrior, tall and broad-shouldered, with piercing blue eyes and close-cropped brown hair. Honestly? He’s quite handsome.

“I’d say he’s a handsome man,” I remark with genuine admiration.

I might have approached him, if he wasn't already surrounded by a swarm of adoring women, and he seems to be paying a lot of attention to them too.

“I didn’t know he was participating this time!” Hilda squeals. “He’d be an incredible match!”

I try not to raise my eyebrows, hadn’t she said it's the Emperor she wants, just this morning? I however don't voice my confusion as I steer us toward the only unoccupied table in the hall. 

Unfortunately, it sits right beside the “untouchable circle” where Heather, Violette, and the most popular royal girls have joined them. Princess Piper and Lindsey, the dazzling twins from Howlstone are among them, while the only outlier is Lana, a distant cousin of the two twins who lacks her cousins’ charm, cheekiness, and elegance. She seems shy and out of place, nothing like the radiant beautiful twins.

After we take our seats, I listen to Heather and her friends talk of the Emporer.

“He’s fucking hot! I’d die to know what he smells like,” Piper beams, and I notice they are passing around a painting of him at the table.

"Yeah, I will let you do that. But nothing more." Heather warns. She has already declared him "hers". 

"And if he will want more?" Piper asks not daring to say more least she upset their queen.

"He won't, trust me!" Heather tells her. Her voice is stern this time. See, I have a good reason to loathe her.

Princess Violette quickly interjects, “Let’s just wait and see who he’s actually matched with.”

Then Lana timidly says, “But it also wouldn't be bad to be mated to the famed princes, right?”

The table erupts with dismissive snorts.

“A cat that's dreaming of becoming a lion should lose its appetite for rats, Lana,” Heather scoffs. 

"And If you keep saying weird things, Lana, goddess Isolde will match you with that freak over there.” Lindsay sneers, nodding towards someone on the far side of the hall.

Following their gaze, I see a young man with black hair and a pretty face, dressed oddly in plain clothes with no gold or silver, utterly out of place among the gilded princes. Despite this, he seems carefree, even as Prince Elon and his friends shoo him away from their table.

I nudge Hilda. “Who’s that?”

She leans closer, her voice low. “That’s Prince Tedmod. Well, not really a prince anymore. His uncle took the Alpha’s throne after his father passed, and now his family is under his uncle’s rule.”

Another black sheep, then. Sounds like we have more in common than I thought. Still, he seems genuinely nice, and definitely good-looking.

I keep staring at him until our eyes met. He smiles at me, well, I am the one who started it, so I smile back and quickly look away.

Looks like I’m not invisible after all. At least not to other ‘losers’ like me.