There was one thing Rudy was certain of: Prince Roy, heir to the throne of Illéa, was a spoilt ass.

Firmly planted in the armchair in the Chateau Drawing Room, the cherry upholstery and dark ebony wood matching his navy pinstripe suit – too big for his tiny frame, the boy prince punched his tiny fists against the satin. "Yiggle!" he yelled. "Yiggle!"

Rudy turned back around and slapped the wet cloth against the lower window, pressing against the glass. The scent of bleach and bubbles was nearly overwhelming, but, thank the lord, he'd take his mere janitorial duties over valet or butler any day.

With the door open in the hallway, it was hard to ignore Roy's incessant shrills. The boy had never known hardship in his life. Of course, at twelve, he was still knee-deep into his last years as a blissfully ignorant child, but it was still no excuse to act as if the world revolved around him.

Rudy dipped the cloth back in the soapy solution, and then pressed it against the glass again, rubbing fingerprint marks away with lengthy swipes. Rudy's father had always taught him that the royal family, King Merrick and Queen Ji-Yu, were good people – and for what he had seen for the six months he'd been on the job, he believed it.

Just their son was devil spawn.

"Yiggle!" Roy squealed again. "Hurry up!"

Rudy clamped his mouth shut. His sharp commentary had got him in trouble at school before, and he wasn't about to get a criminal record for telling a prince to shut up.

Bounding footsteps drew Rudy's attention – Yiggle, dressed in his wrinkleless butler uniform, scampered down the corridor. A tray with a silver cloche wobbled on top of his gloved hands, and sweat careened down his rotund face.

He nodded at Rudy. "Afternoon, Rudy."

Rudy didn't bother replying – as soon as Yiggle rounded the door into the drawing room, Roy screamed.

"Took your time! I've been waiting a whole fifteen minutes! That's fifteen minutes more than I wanted to wait!"

Yiggle choked out. "I'm sorry, Your Highness." His voice was nearly as high-pitched as Roy's, splintered with laboured breaths. "It does take a while for cupcakes to bake."

Rudy glanced over his shoulder at the scene. Yiggle plucked the cloche from the tray, and steam fountained up in a plume of white smoke. Immediately, Rudy could scent the delicious smell of carrot cupcakes, fresh from the oven, and cream cheese icing oozing over the surface in generous waves. His mouth watered, which only reminded him that, thankfully, his lunch break was soon. No more of Roy's shouting.

Roy yanked a cupcake from the tray and shoved half of it into his mouth. He chewed slowly, deliberately, scrutinising the taste with his tongue and open mouth. No doubt, he never had such manners at the dinner table, when his mother and father were present.

Then, he grimaced. Hard.

"Are there walnuts in these?"

Yiggle baulked. "Er, yes, Your Highness."

Roy jumped from his armchair and stomped the ground. "I hate walnuts in my carrot cupcakes!"

Yiggle would never have known that. He'd only been here for a week.

Still, the butler yanked at his collar, which wrapped around his large neck. "O-Oh, my apologies, Your Highness—"

Roy dropped the half-eaten cupcake onto the tray and crossed his arms. "Go make me another batch! No walnuts!"

"O-Of course!"

Yiggle scrambled out, not even acknowledging Rudy's sympathetic frown. Rudy watched him disappear around the corner again – probably back to the kitchens, to the chefs, who would inevitably have to remake another batter from scratch. If Roy couldn't wait fifteen minutes, he hated the idea of being around him for however long these cakes took to make and bake.

Returning to his duties, Rudy sloshed the wet cloth against the glass. The liquid mixture dribbled down his fingers, onto his loose shirt, an understated pale-blue, and matching trousers. The Schreave insignia was embroidered on his lapel, and it was hard, almost painful, to think that Roy was going to represent it one day.

Rudy heard footsteps, coming from the drawing room. He became laser focused on his window-washing duty, holding his breath.

Please, he begged whatever deity looked over him – if any at all, please don't let him notice me.

"Pssst, you," Roy said.

Rudy paused. Maybe he wasn't talking to him.

Rudy flickered his glance left and right. Unfortunately, there was no one else in the hallway. He'd managed to avoid deigning to speak with this particular royal, but now it seemed unavoidable. He grounded his teeth together, pinched his most effable smile, and turned, standing from his crouch.

"How may I help you, Your Highness?"

Prince Roy was not as tall as one would expect a twelve-year-old boy to be, only coming up to Rudy's waist (then again, Rudy knew he was ridiculously tall for his age). His hair, finely chopped to his ear, looked like it had been run through with a rake. It was a dark brown, but a shade lighter than his eyes – which were wide-set, and stark against his tanned skin. He definitely looked like his mother, with his New Asian features, but there was a hint of the King Merrick, too, in face-shape.

He had his arms crossed, his head tilted to stare Rudy right in his eyes. The kid had guts, Rudy could give him that.

"When will Yiggle return?" There was no faulting his upper-class accent, either – every t pronounced.

Rudy clenched the wet cloth in his hand, maintaining his pristinely faux smile. "I'm sure he will return here soon, Your Highness."

"Go tell him to hurry up," Roy commanded, pointing down the corridor. "I'm hungry."

You're hungry 24-7, Rudy wanted to snap. Instead, he widened the insufferable smile and bowed his head. "Of course."

Slowly he turned, to pack his things away, dropping the cloth into the bucket. But Roy growled, "Hurry up!"

Rudy glanced at him over his shoulder. "I need to pack my things first, Your Highness. It wouldn't bode well to leave safety hazards in the corridors for people to trip on."

He stomped his foot again, with enough force to loosen his shoelaces. "Ugh," Roy said. "You're too slow! I'll go myself!"

He made to hightail it down the corridor, swerving on his squeaky loafers, thrusting into a sprint.

Then he tripped over his shoelaces.

Roy squealed, slammed into the ground and grated his face onto the patterned carpet.

Rudy's mouth dropped open. The prince… just fell over.

What the heck did he do now?!

He scrambled through his mind. Before janitorial duties, his priority was to help the royals in any way possible, especially when they were in distress. Tripping on one's shoelaces was distressing… right?

He gauged the moment, hovering awkwardly between Roy's crumpled body and the abandoned bucket and cloth. "Er… are you all right, Your Highness…?"

Roy rolled to sit, cradling his knee. His face had mottled a deep red – nearly as red as Rudy's short ponytail, swept back – and he pulled up his trouser leg to reveal a tiny patch of swelling skin below his kneecap.

"Ow," he said, as if offended by the carpet.

Rudy stifled his amusement. He'd never heard a sarcastic word from the prince in his life. He'd thought him too above all that. Warily, he approached Roy with his hands suspended over him, ready to help him up.

"Do you need help, Your Highness?"

Roy glared at him for a moment, yanking down his trouser leg. "I'm the prince," he said, as if that clarified the situation – Rudy had to take that as a no. He wobbled to stand without Rudy's help, peering down at his loose shoelaces. "I hate shoelaces…"

Rudy resisted rolling his eyes, and murmured, loud enough for Roy to hear, "Would you prefer Velcro?"

Pause. Rudy realised what he'd said. Oh, dear lord, he thought to himself, the realisation sinking into him like saltwater, I just snarked back to the prince.

Roy, however, didn't seem to detect the undercurrent of sarcasm. He blinked, huffing. "I would," he said. "Omma says that Velcro isn't becoming of a prince. And I'm the prince. So I can't wear Velcro."

Velcro shoes weren't becoming of anyone over the age of five, but Rudy didn't dare say that. He inspected the loose shoelaces with dubiousness, but met Roy's gaze. "Do you need me to fetch someone?"

Roy pouted. "I want my cupcakes. I want Yiggle."

"I'm afraid," Rudy said, withholding his rising annoyance, "that Yiggle will be occupied until the cupcakes are finished, Your Highness. And that could take quite some time."

Roy looked back down at his shoes, then back at Rudy. "Fine. I'll wait. But tie my shoelaces in the meantime."

Rudy blanched. The prince was twelve. "You can't tie them yourself?"

He realised this sounded way too informal, but Roy, again, didn't question it, flicking his head to search the corridors for unwarranted ears.

"No. I can't. Every time I try, I mess up."

Rudy sighed, crouching to his knees and taking each thin shoelace in his hands. "It's not that hard. I can show you." He brandished each lace, with which Roy fixated his nervous gaze. "First, tie them both together loosely, like so" – he demonstrated, weaving one strand with the other, and tightening – "and then, you make a loop with one shoelace, wrap the other around it, tuck it under, and pull."

He showed Roy, and the shoelaces tied into one, forming a neat bow. Rudy tugged them further, to make the loose ends shorter, the loops longer. He glanced up at Roy.

Roy's eyes twinkled with awe and embarrassment, all at once. He probably knew how shameful it was, not knowing how to tie his own shoelaces.

"Do you see?" Rudy said, feeling a trickle of pity for Roy amongst the annoyance. Carefully, he pulled his other shoelace, freeing the strands. "Now, you try."

Roy sat down on the carpet, his long fingers fumbling with the strands. "I can't do it."

There was such a humiliation in his voice, a vulnerability, that Rudy sat on the carpet floor, too. He raised a smile – genuine, this time. "Of course you can. You're a prince."

Roy's bottom lip upturned, but he nodded. "I am the prince."

"And I am the janitor," said Rudy. "So if I can do it, so can you."

Raising the differences in their castes probably wasn't the best way to address the point, but it seemed to work. Rudy quickly ran through the steps again, Roy copying his work once more. He lit like a firework when his knots were successful, and his shoelaces bowed neatly on his loafer.

"I did it!" he said. "I tied my shoelaces!"

Rudy smiled. "Good job, Your Highness."

Roy pounded his chest with a fist. "I knew I could do it. I'm the prince."

Rudy rolled his eyes. "Sure." He came to stand, offering Roy a hand up. This time, Roy took it, proudly stepping around the corridor with his newly-tied shoes, pointing his feet out from beneath his pooling trousers. Rudy's attempt was obviously much more polished than Roy's, but still, he'd done it, and Rudy wasn't about to rain on the princes' parade.

A figure whisked around the corner then – Rudy was about to loose a breath at Yiggle's early appearance, but it wasn't the valet that appeared around the corner.

It was King Merrick.

He was tall, the king – much taller than Rudy. His blonde hair, shining with sweat, was neatly combed with a side parting, and his suit crisp around his lanky frame. Youth was escaping him, and the first wrinkles from age contoured his cheeks and forehead, but it didn't stop the storming green of his eyes from procuring intimidation in Rudy.

Rudy blanched, hesitating to do anything accept shiver through a weak bow. Roy pranced about, as if his dad didn't intimidate him at all. He lifted his shoes and brandished his neat shoelaces.

"Look, Appa!" he said. "I tied my shoelaces all by myself!"

King Merrick's storm-sieged gaze didn't wilt. "What's this I hear about you ordering Yiggle about?"

Roy froze. "Erm… I wanted cupcakes."

Merrick crossed his arms. "That doesn't give you the right to act cruel, son." He flickered his gaze at Rudy – suddenly, a sweet smile captured him. "Ah! Rudy, how are you? Rudy Bez—… Rudy Bezui—…"

Merrick was always very pleasant to Rudy, but Rudy still found himself shrink when either Merrick or Queen Ji-Yu appeared. Knowing that both were pals with his dad didn't instil him with any hope. They made a powerful pair of friends – and whatever Rudy's dad had over them, it was enough to secure Rudy a place in whatever position he liked. He'd chosen janitorial so he could manage school, but he definitely didn't want to do it forever.

Still, at least Merrick remembered the first two syllables from his surname, which was more that could be said of literally anyone else. He gulped. "Rudy is just fine, Your Majesty, thank you. I'm well."

Merrick laughed. "Ah, good. I'm so sorry. I can never remember your surname."

"That makes two of us, sire," Rudy said, and Merrick chuckled.

"Appa," Roy demanded. "My shoelaces!"

Merrick took on that fatherly pout, and crossed his arms. "You're going to find Yiggle before he leaves today and apologise. Is that clear, son?"

Rudy couldn't help himself. "Yiggle is leaving?"

"Yes," said Merrick. He sighed. "That's the third valet this month." He paused. "This little one keeps annoying all of them away."

Roy's bottom lip upturned. "I only wanted cupcakes."

Merrick fixed him with a stern look. "You may want cupcakes, but the world doesn't revolve around you. You have to consider other people's feelings – even if you are the prince."

Roy's glare didn't relent. "Not fair! How come Gail gets to demand things and I don't?!"

Merrick frowned. "Gail is two." He paused. "Do I need to have Omma come down here and talk to you?"

Roy seemed to soak this in – that his baby sister was obviously too young to understand the concept of ordering people around. Could Gail even talk properly? Eventually, Roy's glare withered under Merrick, and, defeated and deflated, he crossed his arms and crossed gaze to the carpet. "No, Appa. I'll apologise."

"Do you see what you did wrong?"

Roy puffed his cheeks, and a light flush swept over him. "I was… bad. Yiggle doesn't deserve it."

Merrick brightened, and ruffled Roy's hair. "There's my boy."

Rudy spied his bucket and cloth, too far away for him to just shuffle back to and restart his cleaning regime. He didn't want to be present for more father-son life-lesson sharing.

Roy suddenly brightened, a grin smothering his previous discontent. He lifted his leg to show off his shoelaces again. "Do you like my shoelaces, Appa?"

Merrick truly appreciated it now, crouching slightly and smiling. "Yes, they're very well done. Did you do that all by yourself?"

"All by myself."

Rudy's eye twitched. Wretched kid.

Merrick, luckily, seemed to find this sceptical as well. "That's funny, since Rudy is here also, and I can't help but notice that one of your shoelaces is immaculate compared to the other."

"… The other one got tired."

Merrick chuckled, but turned to Rudy nonetheless. "Thank you, Rudy."

Rudy dipped his head. "No trouble at all, Your Highness."

"AH!" Roy suddenly yelled.

"Son," Merrick chided gently. "We don't yell in the palace."

"Sorry Appa, but I had a eureka!" Roy jumped up and down, loosening his shoelaces, pointing at Rudy. "Rudy can be my valet!"

A void sucked Rudy's emotions straight from his body and into the deep pits of hell. Dear lord, no. He helped the boy with his shoelaces and suddenly they were best friends?! Rudy threw up his hands in a surrendering position and shook his head.

"Ahah, I'm flattered, Your Highness," he stammered out, "but I doubt I would be a good fit for the job."

But Merrick had a different reaction – he brightened like a morning star. "Nonsense!" he chirruped. "I've heard nothing but glowing reviews about you, Rudy! Not to mention butler runs in your blood. The pay is excellent, I hear." He laughed to himself. "Your father was a butler of mine, and now his son being my son's valet… what an amusing turn of events!"

Rudy gulped. This couldn't be happening.

"I… have school, on weekdays."

"How about part-time?" Merrick suggested. "We've never had a part-time valet before."

Part-time valet? Was that even a thing? Who would take care of Roy when Rudy was away? How could Rudy manage running errands for a little kid's cupcakes demands, school, homework, and an already-failing social life?

"Er…" he ended up mumbling, too nonplussed to say anything else.

Roy had other ideas. He growled, "Part-time?!"

Merrick pursed his lips. "Yes. Given your track record, son, I don't think you quite deserve another full-time valet until you prove you won't take advantage of them."

Roy pouted. "I won't! I've turned over a new leaf!"

Rudy wanted to make a sarcastic comment, but held his tongue.

Merrick, instead, provided Roy with a doubtful stare. "When you prove it, Roy, then we can talk about full-time valet for you." He looked to Rudy with a smile. "You don't have to accept now, of course, and we'd have to go through some paperwork, but I think you'd be wonderful for the job. What do you say?"

Rudy weighed his options. If the pay was as great as Merrick said it would be, Rudy could move out from his dad and find a nice apartment in Los Angeles for himself in no time, when he hit eighteen in a few months' time. Living the true city life, instead of a flimsy cottage forty minutes away from any real civilisation.

Rudy nearly laughed out loud. It wasn't as if he was going to take the job full-time, and be Roy's valet until Roy inevitably had his own Selection. He could quit next week, if things became too much. Rudy didn't have any plans for his future so far, and working for the palace could surely open a lot of doors into any area of career.

All he had to do was ferry food to the prince. If Roy had truly 'turned over a new leaf', maybe there was a scope for being a good prince, and a good king, somewhere within. For few fleeting moments, Roy seemed like… a nice boy – wrapped in a thin layer of vanity, of course, but kind enough not to make Rudy want to fear for the country.

Despite his initial thoughts on Prince Roy, despite everything he'd heard until this moment, Rudy spoke.

"I'd be honoured, Your Majesty, Your Highness, to serve."

A/N: Aaaand that's how Rudy clinched his valet job at the palace! By... tying Roy's shoelaces...

So here is the first chapter of Select Few! It is a companion story to the Selection and the Spy, meant to provide short insights into the other characters' lives. There's no set update schedule for this; I'll write when I can and want. Unfortunately, I can't post the next chapter of TSaTS since it isn't finished, but I did have the fruitful beginnings of this story in the pipeline, so I'm posting it now to compensate!

And yes, I will by attempting to write from the Selecteds' point of views! I probably won't write pre-Selection times, but definitely just before or during the Selection, I will give a go. It'll be great fun to tackle some of the girls!

Reviews, favourites and follows loved and appreciated! Thanks for reading!

~ GWA