Not a crown.
Not a real stamp.
There was only one paper folded.
Clara opened it.
His eyes went through the words.
Then he looked up at Adrian.
“I don’t understand.”
Adrian turned to the rest of the room.
“For three years, you’ve all believed that this frame was designed to measure a woman’s body.”
Several candidates looked down.
Adrian continued.
“That’s also what people assumed outside this palace.”
He walked to the wooden structure.
“But it was never built to measure beauty.”
A murmur walked through the room.
One of the women who had mocked Clara whispered:
“So what does it measure?”
Adrian looked at her straight.
“The character.”
The room was completely motionless.
He pointed to the sides of the frame.
There were small marks carved into the wood.
Almost invisible.
“Every candidate who came here was observed from the moment she crossed the palace gates.”
Clara looked around.
The prince continued.
“We looked at how every woman talked to the servants. How he treated the guards. If I thanked the cooks. If she made fun of another candidate when she believed no one important was listening.”
The women who had laughed at Clara suddenly paled.
Adrian looked at his father.
King Edward made a small gesture of approval.
Then Adrian said,
“The frame contains a hidden mechanism. The golden box only opens for the final candidate.”
Someone let out a drowned scream.
Clara frowned.
“But why me?”
Adrian looked at her.
“Because you were never supposed to be here by chance.”
Clara’s expression changed.
“What?”
An elderly woman came out from behind one of the columns of the palace.
Clara recognized her immediately.
It was Mrs. Helen, an old woman from the village of Clara.
Months earlier, Clara used to bring her food and help her repair the roof of her little house.
Clara stared at her.
“Mrs Helen?”
The woman smiled.
But then he removed the simple gray shawl from his shoulders.
Underneath he was wearing a dress Royal blue with the palace shield.
The room burst into whispers.
