The Luna Choosing Game

In full view of the watchful cameras, Julian and I stood side by side in the kitchen, a plate of cookies on

the counter before us. We’d already rolled out the dough, cut the shapes, and baked them in the oven.

These were the finished results.

It had been difficult to relax in front of the camera crew, including the producer who would call out

random commands like, “Put flour on her nose, Julian!” Or, “Smile at him, Piper!”

At least, cookies now existed. The sweet treat might make the awkwardness of this fake date worth it. I

reach for one of the cookies. They should be warm enough now.

“Feed her one of the cookies, Julian,” the producer said.

I froze. Beside me, Julian did too. He glanced at me.

What could I do? We were supposed to be on a date. Feeding each other treats was a common date

practice. Nicholas and I had shared from each other’s plates all the time when we had been together.

So I nodded.

Julian plucked one of the cookies from the plate. Slowly, giving me time to prepare himself, he brought

it up to my face.

“Open wide,” he said with a cheeky grin. It might have been for show, or he was just enjoying himself.

He was hard to read on the best of days, let alone when he was actively playing a role.

I opened my mouth.

Julian placed the cookie on my tongue. I bit down and chewed. It was delicious, as I expected.

Julian brought the rest of the cookie up to his own mouth and ate it. After he chewed and swallowed,

his smile grew wide. “Delicious.” He inched closer. “But not as sweet as you.”

He was saying it for the cameras, I knew. I still blushed. What a line.

“Great,” the producer called. “Now kiss her, Julian!”

Julian’s gaze dropped to my lips. He was so good at this game. Meanwhile, my whole body locked up. I

could do most things, but kissing Julian still made me feel off-balance. It was a line I didn’t want to

cross, but I had to or I’d risk losing everything.

I licked my lips. They were chapped. This wasn’t going to be a good kiss.

I wished I was going to kiss Nicholas instead.

Julian gripped my upper arms. Then, he leaned down.

My whole body tensed. I squeezed my eyes closed. Hopefully he’d make this quick. How much of a

kiss did the producers need? Surely they could extend it out in post-production, if they needed to.

Julian came closer. I could feel his breath against my lips. Yet just as I expected him to press down, he

pulled away.

I peeked open one eye and saw him frowning at me.

“Julian?” I asked.

He whispered his answer, “I don’t like kissing girls who don’t want me to.” He kept his voice soft, too

quiet for the cameras to hear over the bustle of the kitchen.

His words were kind, but I knew they meant trouble. “I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say.

“I’ll take care of it.” He turned toward the cameras. “Piper is not feeling very well. I worry to kiss her in

such a state wouldn’t end well for either of us.”

The producer didn’t seem pleased, but what could he possibly say against a prince? “A kiss would look

better for the public,” the producer said, “but if you are sure…”

“I’m sure,” Julian said, and left no room for argument.

The producer lamented. “Very well.” To the crew, he said, “Let’s ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

he said, “Let’s wrap it up here.”

Julian looked back at me. “I’ll take you back to your room.”

“I want to take the cookies back for Elva,” I said. Julian nodded, and helped me find a container to carry

them safely. We lingered there in the kitchen after the camera crew had gone.

“We should probably have a talk about this,” Julian said, and I felt my stomach sink. “We need to think

about what our relationship will have to look like going forward. We don’t just have to fool the cameras

now, but also the King.”

I knew that. “I really am trying.”

“I know but…” He sighed. “Piper, we are going to have to kiss again to sell our intimacy properly.”

“I know that,” I said.

Julian looked at me. I couldn’t quite meet his gaze. We had kissed before, and it wasn’t terrible. Julian

was a good looking guy and a practiced kisser. The problem was that he wasn’t the one I wanted to

kiss.

My heart and body wanted Nicholas. And kissing Julian felt like a betrayal to my own feelings.

“Maybe you should talk to Nicholas about this,” Julian said.

Startled, I did look back at him now. He couldn’t be serious? But his smile was kind rather than smug

like usual.

“He’s the reason you’re holding back right?” Julian asked. “If you sort out what you need to, then

maybe you can get your head back into the game.”

I h ooked my fingers together. “I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

“Just make him understand,” Julian said. “If Nicholas fully understands that this isn’t real, and that you

actually feel for him instead, that might make it easier for you.”

As I watched him, I began to notice a slight downward turn to the corner of his mouth. Did he not

believe what he was saying? No. That didn’t seem right.

It more seemed like he was… pained by the words. But trying to hide it.

When we had first met, I never would have been able to notice. The dip was that slight. But now that I

had hung out with Julian a lot, I was able to more clearly discern the honest emotions behind Julian’s

pla yboy façade.

But why would the words hurt him? That was what I didn’t understand. It couldn’t be that he had

feelings for me. It had to be more something to do with his constant competition with

Nicholas. 1

“Come on,” Julian said, and, carrying my cookies, I followed him into the stairwell.

As we walked by a front facing window, I paused. The number of protestors had increased again. The

seemed to stretch down the road as far as they could go.

The guard had reacted by adding a line of soldiers to stand at the gate.

The situation seemed a powder keg, ready to ignite.

Angry protestors on one side, armed guards on the other.

Julian stopped beside me and looked out the window as I did. I glanced at him in an attempt to assess

his reaction. Julian was more observant than me, and more astute. He could likely read this situation

better than me. He would know more clearly if we had reason to worry.

His face was a careful blank slate. His smile remained but it was hollow.

“Are we in trouble?” I asked him.

He hesitated in his reply, and that was answer enough.

The people still didn’t trust the royal family, even with the interviews from the candidates, and the other

efforts from within the palace.

What else could we do? There had to be something.

Yes, the people had reason to be frustrated and angry with their lot in life. I knew the hardships of the

commoner more than anyone else in the palace. But to revolt? It seemed too much.

Too violent. Too dangerous.

Julian looked at me. “Our fake relationship might not be enough to stop this.”