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before speaking, “I understand this is hard for you. Perhaps, if you have room, you can take a few pieces of your favorite clothing with you. It is most unusual, but not against the rules. You could also pack some of the other things you wish to keep in the storage boxes. It doesn’t all have to be lost to you. Most of the chosen women possess few items of their own. They will be pleased to receive the new things the prince will supply.”
    â€œThank you for understanding.” She couldn’t express what it meant to be able to retain her own identity in a country where most of the women wore the same style of clothing. She sighed, then got up and started sorting through figurines, books, and various other things scattered around her apartment. Stormy came over and curled around her legs to get her attention. She bent down and picked him up, cuddling him against her chest.
    â€œWhat about my cat?” Her voice wobbled.
    â€œHe is welcome at the palace, though he may find it a challenge. There are many guard dogs roaming the grounds.”
    Cahri breathed a sigh of relief. She hugged Stormy and scratched behind his ears before placing him back on the floor and returning to her task.
    As they worked, packing most of the living room, Anaya tried to distract her with stories of the prince and life in the palace. “God is an important part of life in the palace. We have devotions over breakfast every morning, praying for the people of Belikara. We also thank Him for all of the things He has provided for us.”
    â€œWill the chosen ones be required to have devotions as well?” Cahri kept her eyes glued to the box she packed. She wanted nothing to do with anything spiritual.
    â€œNot right away, no. As your numbers get fewer, it will be recommended.”
    Cahri snorted. “No thanks.”
    â€œBut I thought you attended the mission church here.” Anaya’s voice betrayed her disappointment.
    â€œI attend the church because it is a requirement of my job and for no other reason. God abandoned me a long time ago, and I don’t feel obligated to search for Him.” Cahri couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her voice, nor did she care to.
    Anaya went back to work without further comment.
    After lunch they moved to the kitchen. Several things stayed out for use during the week, but the extras had to be packed in boxes designated for donation. Cahri wouldn't need them again.
    Tears pricked the back of her eyes. She enjoyed cooking. The satisfaction in starting with basic, raw ingredients and coming up with a tasty meal made the time and effort worth it. Maybe she could sneak into the kitchen at the palace to practice her cooking skills. She giggled. The kitchen staff would scoff at her feeble attempts at gourmet food.
    Maybe she would go to a culinary school in France when she was eliminated.

Chapter Four

    On Sunday, Cahri walked the two blocks from her apartment to church, cutting between The Pizza Palace and the empty building where the florist used to be. Anaya and the one remaining guard, Matthias, followed behind. Cahri insisted the man keep his weapons hidden, which he did by wearing a sport coat. Due to Cahri’s job at the mission, everyone expected her to be present, so she attended, but since God had allowed her parents’ deaths, her heart no longer engaged in the worship.
    Concentrating on the songs and Pastor Phillip's sermon proved difficult for Cahri. Her thoughts focused on what she would say to her boss after service. I quit. No. Too abrupt. I can't work here anymore. Sounds like she didn’t like it. I have been chosen. Hmm. A possibility. The call for the final hymn roused her from her musings.
    Pacing back and forth with slow, even steps, Cahri waited while the sanctuary cleared. She forced herself to show a semblance of calm on the outside, while her stomach tied itself in knots. By swallowing over and over, she managed to keep her small