The Crown

by Kiera Cass

  “Miss Marlee suggested it during the family photo session yesterday,” I said quickly.

  Lady Brice nodded, and it was at this moment that Neena entered the office as well. Though I wasn’t sure how comfortable I was sharing everything in front of Josie, it seemed I had no choice.

  “Okay,” I began slowly, “we have a problem. And his name is Marid Illéa.”

  “Really?” Neena asked. “He’s seemed helpful so far.”

  “Yes, that was how he meant it to look. But, in truth, his goal has always been to take the crown.” I swallowed, feeling stupid all over again. “Last night I called him out for encouraging the press to think that we were more than friends, and he made it clear that he was planning to pursue this angle until the public would demand that I marry him.”

  Lady Brice put her head in her hands. “I knew he could undermine this whole thing. I knew it. We should have squashed the rumors.”

  I shook my head. “This isn’t your fault. You gave me the opportunity early on, and I didn’t take it. I just never thought he’d try to worm his way into the palace as a permanent fixture.”

  “It’s so sneaky,” Lady Brice said, balling her hands into fists. “His parents threw rocks and stormed the palace. All he has to do is make a few properly timed speeches, and he’s in without looking remotely aggressive.”

  “Exactly. And I’m . . . I’m scared. If he sways the people to believe he should be my prince consort, they’ll come after the monarchy. They’ve been on the edge of revolt for a while, and now that I’m queen, there’s nothing to stop the people who held out for my father’s sake. But if we concede, and he’s here . . . if he could lie that easily just to get near to me . . .”

  “What would he do when he sees he doesn’t need you anymore?” Lady Brice said somberly.

  I’d already pictured a dozen different scenarios. He’d say I slipped down the stairs, or fell asleep in the bath, or that the Singer genes had gotten to my heart, too. I didn’t want to think of Marid as purely evil, but I understood that he was out for power and had no regard for me.

  It was possible I was being paranoid, I knew that. But after having missed so many things in the last few months, things that should have forced me to be careful, to speak up, to do something, now wasn’t the time to assume things would be fine.

  “Then we have to silence him. What do we do?” Neena asked.

  “Why do you need to do anything?” Josie asked. We all turned, and her smile faded under the weight of our stares. “I mean, you’re the queen. You could just kill him if you wanted. If he was being a traitor, right?”

  “If he acts like a traitor, yes. But when it seems like he’s in love with me and I decide to hang him, how does that make me look?”

  She squinted, taking that in. “Awful.”

  “Worse than awful. And my approval is hanging on by a thread as it is. I can’t have him killed. I don’t even think I can publicly say I have no interest in him now, not without backlash.”

  “Then what?” Lady Brice asked.

  “This doesn’t leave the room. Does everyone understand?” I stared at Josie, hoping she understood the importance of secrecy. “First, we will ignore Marid. He’s not allowed in the palace, and if he calls, no one speaks to him. He’s completely shut out of my presence from here on out. We can’t give the press so much as a whisper to draw from.”

  “Agreed,” Lady Brice commented.

  “Second, I’ve mapped out how the next few weeks will go in terms of the Selection. Ean is heading home this morning. We spoke last night, and he’s ready to go. Early next week Hale will be leaving as well.”

  Neena made a face. “I’m sad to see Hale go.”

  “Me, too. But this was a mutual agreement, so I assure you there are no hard feelings on either side.”

  “That makes it easier,” she admitted. “But wait. Aren’t you supposed to choose within four days once you get to a top three?”

  “Yes. The only way to beat Marid at his game is to choose a husband as quickly as possible. And regardless of how deeply in love I may or may not be, it has to look as good as what my parents have. Better, if we can manage it.” I took a deep breath. “So once Hale is gone, we’ll wait a few days and then eliminate Fox. He’s nice, but we don’t have a real connection. That will leave Kile and Henri as the final two, and I intend to do a live broadcast in about two weeks to announce my fiancé.”

  “Two weeks!” Neena gasped. “Eadlyn!”

  “I will need help with the perception of this,” I went on. “I checked some recent poll numbers, and Hale and Kile have been front-runners for a while. I’ll take care of making sure that Hale’s decision to go is seen as necessary so the people will be satisfied with his departure, but we need something sensational about Henri. Like that he bakes for people in nursing homes or that his family is descended from Swendish nobility. Even if you have to stretch the truth, do it. Get him to the final two with everyone’s approval.”

  No one spoke for a moment.

  “Do you even love Kile?” Josie asked. For once her face had lost its ridiculously blank look, and I saw the deep, genuine concern in her eyes.

  I thought of Erik. Of him promising me that it was worth it. Of how he’d treated me from the very start. Of how he’d kissed me.

  Of how he’d be gone soon.

  “I’d be happy with Kile.”

  Certainly leaders before me had made much bigger sacrifices, but Lady Brice, Neena, and Josie all looked as though I was marching into death.

  “Are you going to help me or not?” I demanded.

  “I’ll see what I can find out about Henri,” Lady Brice said. “I’d prefer to start with the absolute truth first.”

  “As would I. And I feel confident you’ll be able to find something for him. He’s such a sweetheart.”

  “He is,” Neena agreed. “As is Kile. You could do much worse.”

  Yes, I thought. But I could also do much better.

  “Do what you need to get everything in place for this. I’m going to spend the rest of the day working from my room. Josie?” She snapped to attention. “Are you coming back tomorrow, or was this enough for you?”

  “It was more than enough,” she said, swallowing.

  “Not a word, you understand?”

  She nodded, but I could hardly bear to look at her. She seemed so sad for me, and of all people, I couldn’t stand her pitying me. But when I looked at Neena and Lady Brice, their expressions were just as bad.

  I pulled myself up as tall as I could and left the room, remembering that, no matter what, I was still queen.

  CHAPTER 25

  “WHAT IS THIS PLACE?” ERIK asked. I’d done my best to make it cozy, sneaking in with a basket full of candles and blankets midday, and another full of food when everyone left for dinner.

  Erik said he was sick, I said I had work, and we met in an inconspicuous spot on the second floor. One of the easiest passages that led down to the massive safe room was by my mother’s old bedroom, the one she’d had during her Selection. Sometimes she took pilgrimages there, like it was the calmest place for her to be in the palace.

  “Back when the rebels were a deadly threat, the royal family used to escape down here,” I told Erik as we made our way through the passage. “But this place hasn’t been used in well over a decade, and now I think it may be the palace’s best kept secret.”

  “In other words, no one’s finding us,” Erik responded with a smile.

  “Not if we don’t want them to.”

  He took a deep breath. “I’ve felt so guilty today, torn between how excited I was about your invitation and how guilty I feel since I’m not even a choice.”

  I nodded, pulling plates from the basket and setting them on top of the blankets. “I know. I’ve been cursing the Selection in ways I haven’t since my parents first mentioned it. And then I take it all back, because if it had never happened . . .”

  We shared a long look. I broke it with a sigh,
continuing to set out our candlelit picnic.

  “You know, my father wasn’t supposed to marry my mother.”

  “You’re kidding,” he said, joining me.

  “Apparently my grandfather had handpicked the girls who came to compete. He only threw in three Fives to appease the lower castes, and he hated Mom from the get-go. On top of that, I found out my parents used to argue all the time.” I shrugged, still surprised by their rocky history. “I grew up thinking that they were a fairy tale, you know? It turns out they were just like anyone else. Somehow that makes it even more magical.”

  I let the words hang, thinking of everything I knew now.

  “They slow dance when it rains. I have no idea why, but every time the sky turns gray, you’ll find them together.” I smiled. “I remember once Dad barged into the Women’s Room, which is completely improper. You’re supposed to be invited in. But it was raining, and he wasn’t going to wait to sweep her away. And one time he dipped her in the hallway, and she just laughed and laughed. She was still wearing her hair down then, and I’ll never forget how it looked like a waterfall of red. It’s like no matter what happens, they can find themselves again there.”

  “I know what you mean.” Erik eyed the bottle of red wine I’d snagged and grinned. “My parents find themselves over omenalörtsy.”

  I wrapped my arms around my knees, tucking my dress beneath me. “What’s that?”

  “It’s like an apple doughnut. My mother made him a batch when they were dating, and it became their thing. When something good happens: omenalörtsy. When they’re making up after a fight: omenalörtsy. When it seems like a particularly wonderful Friday: omenalörtsy.”

  “How did they meet?”

  “This will sound strange, but through bolts and screws.”

  I squinted. “So . . . are they mechanics?”

  “No,” he replied with a chuckle. “My parents have known each other basically their entire lives. They grew up in the same small town in Swendway. When they were eleven, some guys at school were picking on my dad, throwing his schoolwork in the mud. My mom was even smaller than him at the time, but she went right up and yelled at them and pulled my dad away.

  “He was embarrassed, but she was enraged. She forced him into an alliance, and that night they met each other on a back road, ran to each of the three bullies’ houses, and stole the screws out of their bike wheels so they’d have to walk. For weeks after that, any time they saw that one of the bullies had replaced the screws, my mom and dad would go steal them. After a while the bullies gave up and walked.”

  “I like your mom,” I said through bites of bread.

  “Oh, you guys would get along great. She loves food and music and is on a constant hunt for a good reason to laugh. My dad, on the other hand— Well, if you think I’m shy, you should meet him. He’s much more comfortable with books than people, and it can take him a while to warm up to strangers. Anyway, my parents grew up, and because they were very different people, they ran in different circles. Boy after boy came by for my mother, while my dad was spending weekends in the library.

  “When my dad got older, he bought a bike. And one morning he woke up and found the screws for his wheels were missing.”

  “No!”

  “Yes. And she did this until he wised up and started walking with her to school. And they’ve been walking together everywhere since.”

  “That is amazing.”

  He nodded. “They married young but waited awhile to start a family. They tell me not to take offense but that they weren’t ready to share each other with anyone else, not even me.”

  I shook my head. “I really wish I could meet them.”

  “They’d have liked you. Dad might have spent most of the visit hiding in his room, but he’d have liked you all the same.”

  Erik uncorked the wine, and we shared fruit and bread and cheese. For a long time we didn’t speak. The silence made everything feel bigger, better. There was no rush to fill the space, and after days and days of sound, the comfortable quiet with Erik was the most soothing thing in my world. It was like being alone without really being alone.

  “I have to ask an embarrassing question,” I admitted after a while.

  “Oh, no.” He took a deep breath. “All right, I’m ready.”

  “What’s your full name?”

  He nearly spit out his wine. “I thought I was going to have to confess some dark secret, and that’s it?”

  “I feel bad that I’ve kissed you and don’t know your last name.”

  He nodded. “It’s Eikko Petteri Koskinen.”

  “Eikko Pet . . . Petteri?”

  “Koskinen.”

  “Koskinen.”

  “Perfect.”

  “Is it okay if I call you that? Eikko? I like your name.”

  He shrugged. “I only changed it because I thought it was too strange.”

  “No,” I insisted. “It’s not strange.”

  He looked down, toying with the blanket. “What about you? Full name?”

  I sighed. “There was some debate over middle names, so it’s Eadlyn Helena Margarete Schreave.”

  “That’s a mouthful,” he teased.

  “It’s pretentious, too. My name literally means ‘princess shining pearl.’”

  He tried to hide his smile. “Your parents named you Princess?”

  “Yes. Yes, I am Queen Princess Schreave, thank you.”

  “I shouldn’t laugh.”

  “And yet you do.” I brushed the crumbs off my dress. “It makes me feel like I was predestined to become a brat.”

  He grabbed my hand, forcing me to look at him. “You are not a brat.”

  “The first time we really spoke, I corrected your manners.”

  He shrugged. “They needed correcting.”

  I smiled sadly. “I’m not sure why, but that makes me want to cry.”

  “Please don’t. That was a good day for me.”

  I questioned him with my eyes, holding on to his hand as he continued. “When you got up onto the float and you were speaking with Henri? After you were done, you looked down to let me know everything was okay. You didn’t have to do that. You were busy and in a rush, and you still acknowledged me. Even after knowing I was the type of person who bit my nails when I was nervous.”

  That made me want to cry even more. “Did it start then?”

  “Pretty much. And I’ve chastised myself for it every day since. But, of course, I assumed no one would ever know, least of all you.”

  “I was a bit slower,” I admitted. “I think it was when you pulled me from the kitchen. You weren’t worried about what was happening, or how we might look running through a crowded room, or anything else in the world, it seemed. I was unsettled, and you brought me back to earth. So many people are in charge of keeping me in line, but no one seems to make me feel quite so normal as you.”

  He swallowed. “I’m sorry I won’t be able to do that much longer.”

  “You have no idea how much I wish you could.”

  After a strained moment of silence, he cleared his throat. “Would you please be so kind . . . when this is over, would you please not contact me? I’m sure you could find me any time you wanted. But please don’t. You have been a wonderful friend to me, and so have these men. I don’t want to become the kind of man who betrays his friends.”

  “And I don’t want to become the kind of woman who deceives her husband. When it’s over, it’s over.”

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  “But nothing is over tonight,” I reminded him.

  He looked down, smiling a bit. “I know. I’m trying to decide if I have enough courage to ask you for another kiss.”

  I moved closer to him. “You can ask for one. Or two. Or twelve.”

  And he laughed before he toppled backward, the rush of our movement knocking over his glass of wine and sending the candle flames dancing.

  CHAPTER 26

  I GOT TO THE OFFICE a little later than
I’d intended the next morning. I’d swept back my hair and dressed in a rush, but no matter how much time I spent on my face, I couldn’t seem to wipe away my smile.

  It was a delicious feeling, falling in love. I’d had so many luxuries in my life, and I thought I’d had a taste of this before, but I realized now it was merely a cheap imitation of something not meant to be imitated in the first place.

  I reminded myself it would end, and I’d already made my peace with it. I knew I was going to choose Kile; I’d told Eikko as much.

  Kile would make me happy, and I hoped I could do the same for him. I figured at some point, once Kile knew I was choosing him, I’d come clean to him about some of this. And I knew Kile well enough to know that he’d understand if I confessed to feeling confused about the process and that kissing Eikko wasn’t something I planned, both of which were true. I didn’t want it hanging over us. Any of us.

  And a life side by side with Kile was not exactly a prison sentence. He was smart, passionate, funny, charming—a dozen things a husband ought to be. He would be beloved by the people—our people—and he would stand beside me and fight Marid. He was so charismatic, he might even render Marid useless.

  And, deep in my heart, I hoped there was a chance that I could learn to love him, now that I knew what that really felt like.

  For the time being I had a few precious days left with Eikko, and I intended to treasure each one.

  Neena tapped on my desk, bringing my attention back to the present. “Are you okay? What are you thinking about?”

  “Umm . . .”

  To be honest, I was thinking about the sound of Her Majesty Eadlyn Helena Margarete Schreave de Koskinen, and how suddenly my mouthful of names seemed like a line of poetry. But then I looked into her eyes and saw they were tinged with red.

  “About you,” I said. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” she said in a tone that said not really. “It’s just Mark. He’s working such long hours, and now I have to work more, and it’s getting harder to keep in touch. You know, same old. Distance isn’t a big deal until it is.”

  I took her hands. “Neena, the last thing I want to do is cost you the person you love. You’re a brilliant girl; you could work anywhere—”