Free One Choice by Ginger Solomon Page A

dawned. “The guards are for you.”
    Appalled she’d assumed Anaya was a servant, Cahri cringed. Heat crept up her neck and into her cheeks. She had just had her hair washed by the princess.
    â€œI am and they are, but I have chosen to be your servant and your mentor. It was my choice, and I will continue to be so until either my brother chooses you, you are released from the Bridal March, or my father tells me otherwise.” She started to walk away, but as she left she said, “Come, the servant has arrived who will trim your hair, then you will dress in the outfit I have chosen for you.”
    The clothes Cahri had ignored this morning lay across the bed, waiting for her.
    For the next two hours the servant trimmed, dried, and arranged Cahri's hair and then put her hat back in place. Afterward, another servant delivered dinner.
    Cahri squirmed under Anaya’s persistent gaze. “You now know I’m the princess, but you must not tell anyone else. You’ll still call me Anaya, and I’ll continue to be your servant. No one else is to know. Do you understand?”
    â€œI understand.” She spoke the words, but she didn’t comprehend why this woman, this princess , would be interested in helping her. It didn’t make sense. None of it made sense — being chosen, moving from her home, being helped by the princess. It all came together in a jumbled pile of facts in her mind. God had to be behind this fiasco. She wished He’d leave her alone.
    Anaya touched Cahri’s arm, startling her. “It’s time for you to rejoin the others. They have also been instructed to prepare for an inspection. Remember what I told you. The prince will know your heart when he looks into your eyes, but do not look up before he comes to you.”
    â€œI’ll remember. Thank you.”
    â€œMatthias will take you back now.”
    As Cahri followed Matthias back to her room, her heart raced. She inhaled as deep as her lungs would allow and tried to relax. Again and again she told herself to act normal.

Chapter Eight

    Josiah prowled around his room like a caged tiger and contemplated the inspection he would perform in less than an hour. He lowered himself onto a chair at the table where his dinner waited and pushed the food around on his plate with his fork. Tension knotted his stomach. At this rate, he wouldn't make it through the next six months. He massaged his temples to relieve his headache. Why can’t this… this humiliation be over already?
    All afternoon Anaya had busied herself with the one she called Cahri, leaving him alone without anyone to distract him. He’d tried to work, but he couldn’t keep his mind focused.
    His father didn't understand, would never understand. Josiah didn’t want just any wife. She must be someone special, someone he could love.
    How could he choose a bride in six months? Could any of these women be that special? There wouldn't be much time to get to know any of them. But then, he'd thought he'd known Remalyn. Obviously he hadn't.
    He wiped his hand across his eyes and then gazed out at the flowers. Sections of roses, not yet blooming, flanked by artistic shrubs with benches situated below various vines to maximize shade. His favorite place to walk and pray offered no solace now. He’d agreed to allow the chosen ones access instead. At least he could watch and learn about them.
    A knock sounded on his door.
    â€œCome.” He hadn’t meant to bark out the word.
    Anaya entered, stared at him for a few moments, and then walked to where he sat. “You need to relax, Josiah.”
    He snorted. His sister knew him well. “How do I relax when there are fifty women expecting me to choose one of them to be my wife? How do I choose? How will I know?” He pushed his fingers through his hair.
    â€œYou pray, and God will show you. Trust Him, even more now since you don't feel you can trust yourself.” Anaya