by Kiera Cass
“Which reminds me,” Dad said, under control again. “How do you want to proceed with Jack? Should we cover this up? Press formal charges? Personally, I’d like to tear him limb from limb, but that’s really up to you.”
I smiled. “No charges, but let’s not cover it up. Let everyone know exactly what kind of man he is. That will be punishment enough.”
“Very wise,” Ahren agreed.
Dad folded his arms, considering. “If that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do. I’ve been told he’s on his way home now, and that will be the end of it.”
“Thank you.”
Dad put his arm around Mom, and they turned to leave, Mom taking one last look at all of us.
“By the way,” Dad said, glancing over his shoulder, “while I agree with the sentiment behind throwing him out without seeing if he regained consciousness, if he had died, that would have looked really bad.”
I pressed my lips together, but I knew my eyes were smiling. “Fine. No more carelessly tossing people out through the gates.”
“And more sword fights!” Kaden yelled.
While Ahren and I laughed, our parents shook their heads. “Goodnight. Don’t stay up too late,” Mom warned.
And we didn’t mean to, but we did end up talking for a long time. I eventually fell asleep with Kaden’s back pressed against mine, Ahren’s arm under my head, and Osten holding on to one of my feet.
I woke early the next morning, well before the others, and smiled at my brothers, my protectors. The sister in me wanted to stay. But the princess in me got up and went to prepare for the new day.
CHAPTER 20
WHILE WE SAT AT THE breakfast table the next morning, I found myself looking over the boys, searching for signs that anyone else might be like Jack. I kept thinking that if I’d paid more attention those first few days, I’d have been able to see there was something off about him.
Then my eyes passed over some of the others I’d gotten to know, like Hale and Henri. Even Erik’s presence was a welcome one. After meeting them, I couldn’t let one boy make me fearful of all the others. And in truth, I really didn’t have the privilege of being fearful.
So I pulled myself together, remembering who I was. I couldn’t run scared.
As the meal drew to a close, I stood, commanding their attention. “Gentlemen, I have a surprise for you. In fifteen minutes, please come meet me in the studio for a little game.”
Some laughed and others clapped, but they didn’t know what was waiting for them. I almost felt bad. I left the room before them, going to make sure my dress and hair looked right for filming.
Shortly thereafter, the boys filed in, all of them seeming a little stunned by the set.
I sat in front, a bit like a schoolteacher, while they each had a stool with a paper and marker and a large, cartoonish name tag like the ones I’d seen on TV game shows.
“Welcome, gentlemen!” I sang. “Please come find your seat.”
The cameras were already rolling, capturing the nervous smiles and confused head shaking as they found their places and stuck on their tags.
“Today we’re having a pop quiz on all things Illéa. We’ll be discussing history, foreign affairs, and domestic policies. When you get an answer right, one of the maids standing by,” I said, motioning to the ladies waiting in the wings, “will come and put a gold check mark sticker on you. Get one wrong, and they’ll bring a black X.”
The boys chuckled with excitement and anxiety, looking at the baskets of stickers.
“Don’t worry, this is all for fun. But I will be using this information to help decide my next elimination. If you get the most wrong, it doesn’t mean you’re automatically out . . . but I’m watching,” I teased, pointing a finger at them.
“First question,” I announced. “This is an important one! When is my birthday?”
There were several laughs as the boys bent their heads, scribbling answers and peeking at their neighbors’ answers.
“Okay, hold up your signs,” I ordered, and gawked humorously at the range of dates.
Kile, of course, knew it was April 16, and he had plenty of company, but there were only a few who knew the year as well.
“You know what, I’m going to go ahead and give this to anyone who got April at all.”
“All right!” Fox called enthusiastically, and Lodge and Calvin high-fived in the back. The maids crossed the stage, and boys who got an X wailed comically but took the stickers without sulking.
“Here’s one with lots of potential answers. Who would you consider Illéa’s greatest allies?”
Some correctly guessed France, Italy, and New Asia, while Henri held up Swendway, followed by several exclamation points.
Julian’s sign had several arrows drawn up to his face and had ME written in large letters.
I pointed at him. “Wait, wait, wait! What does that even mean?” I asked, trying to suppress a smile.
His grin was huge as he shrugged. “I just think I’d be a really great friend.”
I shook my head. “Ridiculous.” But I didn’t think I came off sounding as reproachful as I meant to.
A maid raised her hand on the side of the stage. “So does he still get an X or . . . ?”
“Oh, that’s an X!” I assured her, and the boys chuckled, even Julian.
Most correctly named August Illéa as Dad’s partner in eradicating the rebel forces, and they all knew the history of the Fourth World War. By the time we got to the end, I was pleased that the majority of them were so well-informed.
“Let me see. Who has the most checks?” The maids helped me count across the rows, which was very efficient since they had handed out the points. “Hale has six. So do Raoul and Ean. Bravo, gentlemen!”
I clapped, and the others joined in before realizing what was next.
“Okay, and now, who has the most X marks?”
The maids quickly pointed to the back corner, where poor Henri was covered with black.
“Oh, no, Henri!” I yelled with a laugh, trying to communicate how little stock I took in the game.
I really had hoped to weed out someone this way, but I knew Henri’s lack of information came from living in the country for only a year or a misunderstanding of the questions in translation.
“Who else do we have? Burke and Ivan . . . not too terrible.” They had each done pretty badly but still had three correct answers over Henri. At least it confirmed my lack of excitement over Ivan.
“Thank you all for indulging me this morning, and I will keep this information in mind as I continue to narrow down suitors in the next few weeks. Congratulations on being so intelligent!” I applauded them, and they patted one another on the back as the cameras powered down.
“Before you go, gentlemen, I have one last question; and it comes from some very recent history, so you all had best get it right.”
They nervously murmured among themselves, ready for the challenge.
“If you know the answer, feel free to just shout it out. Ready? When is it acceptable to put your hands on me without my permission?”
I stared at them all, stone-faced, daring a single one of them to laugh. They exchanged glances with one another, but it was only Hale who was brave enough to answer.
“Never,” he called out.
“That is correct. You’d all do well to remember that. Jack Ranger was let off easy, with nothing more than a punch to his face from my brother and the shame of his ejection. If another one of you attempts to touch me without my consent, you will be caned or worse. Are we clear?”
The room was still.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
I walked away, hoping my words would linger after me. The game was over, and they couldn’t be left doubting that.
After lunch Dad was a little late getting into the office, which was rare. So I was alone when Lady Brice came knocking on the door.
“Your Highness,” she greeted. “Is your father not here yet?”
“No. Not sure what’s holding him up.”
“Hmm.” She tidied the stack of papers in her arms, thinking. “I really needed to speak with him.”
Lady Brice looked so young sometimes. She was much older than me, of course, but not quite Dad’s age. I never really knew what to make of her. Not that I disliked her or anything, but I always wondered why she was the only woman Dad worked with.
“Anything I could help you with?” I offered.
She looked down, thinking it over. “I’m not sure how widely he’d want to share this information, so I don’t think so. Sorry.”
I smiled, knowing she meant it. “No problem. Lady Brice, can I ask you a question? You’re very smart and kind. Why haven’t you ever married?”
She giggled a little. “I am married. To this job! It means a lot to me, and I’d rather do it well than seek out a spouse.”
I rolled my eyes. “Amen to that.”
“I know you understand. And the only people I ever get to see are the other advisers, and I don’t think I’d want to be in a relationship with any of them. So I’ll just keep working.”
I nodded. “I respect that. I think people assume women aren’t happy without a husband and children, but you seem quite satisfied.”
She shrugged. “I think about it. I might adopt one day. I do think motherhood is an honor. And not everyone does it well.”
The hint of bitterness in her tone made me think she was referring to her own mother, but I didn’t want to ask about specifics.
“I know. I’m fortunate to have such a wonderful one.”
She sighed, melting a little. “Your mom is a natural. In a way, she was like a second mother to me when I was younger, and I learned a lot from her.”
I squinted. “I didn’t realize you’d been around the palace that long.” I tried to remember if there was a time when I hadn’t seen her in the hallways, though I’d never paid much attention to the advisers until I hit thirteen and started working with Dad in earnest. Perhaps I simply didn’t notice.
“Yes, miss. I’ve been here almost as long as you,” she replied with a laugh. “Your parents are far too generous.”
Eighteen years was a long time to hold a position in the palace, especially as an adviser. Dad switched most people in and out every five to eight years based on recommendations and the mood of the country. What kept Lady Brice in her place for so long?
I studied her as she swept her hair over her shoulder and smiled. Had Dad let her stay because she was attractive? No. I felt guilty for even thinking Dad could be capable of being that shallow or selfish.
“Well, I’m sorry I can’t help you, but I’ll tell Dad you came by.”
“Thanks, Your Highness. It’s not terribly urgent, so there’s no rush. You have a good day.”
“You, too.”
She curtsied and left, and I watched the door long after she was gone, curious about this woman I’d apparently known all my life without realizing it. I shrugged it away, turning back to my papers. Between the Selection and work, there was no room in my head for Lady Brice.
CHAPTER 21
DINNER THAT NIGHT WAS PLEASANT because I could tell the boys had learned from Jack’s mistake. They all sat a little taller as I entered, nodding their heads as I passed, and I sensed that, once again, I’d regained control.
Dad looked a little calmer as well, though I could tell he hadn’t quite let go of all his worry. Ahren leaned across the table to give me a conspiratorial wink, and it was almost like this terrible thing had made life a little better.
Dad had suggested that I try to make conversation with the boys at dinner, but calling out over all those people felt rude. I didn’t think I could do that, at least not in a way that felt natural. I knew that, even with what I’d gone through, I was expected to get back out there. Instead of talking, I looked at my options. . . .
Of all the boys left, Ean struck me as the most intimidating. Not because he seemed violent in any way, but because of that constant pride and calmness that hung around him, like an earthquake couldn’t make him move if he didn’t want it to.
So maybe going out with him next would conquer a fear in some way. There was no way he was as impervious as he seemed. We’d simply need to do something in the open and make sure the photographers came.
As if he could read my thoughts, Ean looked up at me at that very second, and I turned away, pretending to be engrossed with my brother.
I noticed Kaden was reading a newspaper beneath the table.
“What’s that article about?” I asked.
He answered without looking away, like he was trying to finish his day’s work before the end of dinner. “A collection going around in an area in Midston. They’re raising money for a girl to go to art school. She’s talented, but she can’t afford to study on her own. She says . . . hold on. Here it is. ‘I come from a line of Threes. My family thinks it’s beneath me to study art, even though the castes no longer exist. It’s hard. I remind them that the queen was born a Five, and she’s brilliant. They won’t pay for my schooling, so I’m asking for help to pursue my dreams.’
“Look at the picture of her paintings. They aren’t bad.”
I grew up with a deep appreciation for art, and while her work wasn’t an aesthetic I particularly cared for, I could see she was talented.
“They’re good. It’s so silly. The point of getting rid of the castes was so people could have the choice of whatever profession they wanted, and they’re not even using it. It’s almost like they don’t want it to work.”
“Setting up a system to allow something doesn’t mean people will do it.”
“Obviously,” I commented coldly, sipping my drink.
“The key is to make them understand that. Do you remember Mom showing us those old history books and how the United States had that paper”—he paused to think of the name—“the Declaration of Independence? And it said the people were allowed to pursue happiness. But no person making that document could actually hand over happiness.”
I smiled. “You’re too smart.”
“I’d take that as a compliment, but last week you were caught kissing Kile in the dark.”
“Oh, ha ha ha,” I said, tempted to stick out my tongue at him. “It’s not like my opinion ever mattered much anyway.”
“Are you going to marry Kile?”
I nearly choked. “No!”
Kaden laughed wildly, making most of the room look our way.
“I take it back,” I said, dabbing my lips. “You are a singularly gifted idiot!”
I stood, flicking Kaden’s ear as I passed. “Hey!”
“Thanks for being there for me, Kaden. You’re a great brother.”
He rubbed at his ear, still grinning. “I try.”
Marry Kile, I thought, doing my best not to burst out laughing again. If he could continue to be discreet, the chances of me kissing Kile again were very, very high . . . but I couldn’t imagine actually being married to him.
I wasn’t sure I could imagine being married to any of these boys.
I wasn’t sure I could imagine being married at all. . . .
I slowed, looking at some of their faces as I passed. What would it be like to fall asleep next to Hale? Or to have Baden slip a ring on my finger?
I tried to picture it and couldn’t. I remembered Ahren mentioning that some of the Selected asked him if it was possible I liked girls, but even thinking about that made me laugh. I knew that wasn’t what was stopping me from genuinely being able to connect with a boy . . . but I sensed now that something was. It wasn’t simply a desire to be independent; there was a wall around me, and I wasn’t completely sure why.
But wall or no wall, I’d made a promise.
When I got to Ean, I paused.
“Mr. Cabel?”
He stood and bowed. “Yes, Your Highness.”
“Do you ride horses?”
“I do.”
“Would you like to accompany me on a ride tomorr
ow?”
A wicked glint came into his eye. “I would.”
“Excellent. See you then.”
I chose to wear a dress and do the whole thing sidesaddle. It wasn’t my favorite way to ride, but I thought a touch of femininity would add to the purpose of the afternoon.
When I walked out to the stables, Ean was waiting for me, saddling his horse.
“Ean!” I called as I approached.
He lifted his head and waved. He was very handsome, the kind of person I thought people expected to see next to me. Every action of his was controlled, and I was determined to match him and not let myself be anxious.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Almost. I need to grab my saddle.” I walked past him into the stalls.
“Is that what you’re going to wear?”
I whipped back around. “I can do more in ten minutes wearing this dress than most men can do all day wearing pants.”
He laughed. “I don’t doubt it.”
Butterscotch was at the back, in a slightly wider stall than most of the others. A princess’s horse deserved some space and a good view.
I prepped her and walked back to Ean. “If you don’t mind, we’re going to take some photos in the garden first.”
“Oh. No, that’s fine.”
We took our horses by the reins and walked them around to the garden. A man with a camera was there, snapping shots of the sky or trees as he waited. When he saw us, he came over.
“Your Highness,” he greeted, shaking my hand. “I’m Peter. I thought it’d be nice to get a few pictures of the two of you together.”
“Thank you.” I petted Butterscotch. “Where do you want us?”
Peter looked around. “If you can put the horses by a tree, I think a couple of shots in front of this fountain would look nice.”
I let go of Butterscotch, knowing she wouldn’t run. “Come on,” I said warmly.
Once he had tied his horse to a branch, I took his hands. Peter wasted no time. Ean and I smiled and looked shyly away from each other, and this little walk was documented in pictures. We stood in front of the fountain, sat against a shrub, and even took a couple of pictures in front of the horses.
