by Kiera Cass
“But on the plus side, I could have actual dates to talk about next Friday.”
He chuckled to himself. “True. So maybe give someone you haven’t talked to yet a chance. I promise, it is actually possible to meet with all of them.”
I surveyed the mass of boys. “I might not be in the office this week.”
He shook his head. “Not a problem. Get to know them. I’m still pulling for you to find someone, even if part of you thinks it’s pointless.”
“I might remind you, that wasn’t your goal when you proposed this.”
“All the same.”
“There are just so many. Anyone you don’t like?”
He squinted. “As a matter of fact . . .” Dad gazed over each of their faces, trying to find one in particular. “That one. Green shirt.”
“Black hair?”
“Yes.”
“That’s Julian. What’s wrong with him?”
“This might sound trivial, but when you were complimenting the others last night, he didn’t smile or clap for any of them. Not a good attitude to have. If he can’t stand being in their shadows temporarily, how would he handle being in yours for the rest of his life?”
For all the mental time I spent debating how much he honestly believed in me as a leader, that statement made it all a waste. Of course he saw me as a leader.
“And this might also sound trivial, but I don’t think you’d make attractive children.”
“Daddy!” I yelled, causing a bit of a stir. I buried my head in my hand as Dad doubled over in laughter.
“I’m just saying!”
“All right. I’m leaving. Thanks for the insight.”
I practically bolted from the hall, though I made sure my pace was only slightly faster than what might be considered ladylike. Once I was alone it turned into an all-out sprint. In my room, I filed through the remaining applications, looking for anything that might make one person more exciting than another. I paused on Julian’s picture. Dad was right. No matter how I combined his nose and my eyes or my mouth and his cheeks, every variation looked awful in my head.
Not that it mattered.
I’d send him home soon enough, but probably only once a few dates went bad and he had company. The solo eliminations had all been rather awful. For now I had to make a plan. Ten dates. That was the goal before I had to face another Report. And I’d need to get at least three of them in the papers. How could I make them look magnificent?
Mom was in the Women’s Room with Miss Lucy, meeting with a mayor. There weren’t very many ladies holding down those positions, so I knew them by heart. This was Milla Warren from Calgary gracing our home today. I hadn’t planned on making this an official visit, but now I had no choice.
I curtsied, greeting Mom and her guest.
“Your Highness!” Ms. Warren sang, standing to give me a deep curtsy. “It’s a pleasure to see you, and during such an exciting time!”
“We’re very happy to have you as well, ma’am. Please sit.”
“How are you, Eadlyn?” Mom asked.
“Good. I have some questions for you later,” I added quietly.
“No doubt a little boy talk, eh?” Ms. Warren asked with a wink. Mom and Miss Lucy indulged her with a laugh, but while I smiled, I thought she should know the truth.
“I don’t think the Selection is quite what you imagine.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Please, give me thirty-five men fighting over me any day!”
“Honestly, it’s more work than anything,” I promised. “We make it look exciting, but it’s challenging.”
“I can back that up,” Mom said. “No matter what side of the situation you’re on, it’s hard. There are long hours of nothing happening followed by bursts of events.” She shook her head. “Even now, just thinking back on it, I feel tired.”
Mom rested her head on her hand and flicked her eyes toward me. There was something in her expression, that motherly, accepting look, that made me feel understood and comforted.
But there was the same worry there, the hint of stress that Dad was wearing this morning. She brushed off the moment and focused on Ms. Warren. “So, Milla, the last I heard, things were going well in Calgary.”
“Oh, yes, well, we’re a quiet bunch.”
She’d stopped by on little more than a social call, and I sat there holding my perfect posture until she decided to leave. Which only happened because I slipped a note to the maid asking that she come in and tell Mom she was needed urgently.
The second Ms. Warren was out the door, Mom straightened her dress. “Let me go see what this is all about.”
“Relax, it’s just me.” I studied my nails. They needed some work.
Mom and Miss Lucy stared.
“I wanted to talk to you and she wouldn’t stop, so I made an appointment. Sort of.” I flashed a cheeky smile.
Mom shook her head. “Eadlyn, sometimes you can be a little manipulative.” She sighed. “And sometimes it’s a gift. Ugh, I didn’t think I could take much more.”
I giggled conspiratorially with her and Miss Lucy, glad I wasn’t alone.
“I feel bad for her,” Mom said guiltily. “She doesn’t get out much, and it’s hard to do her job alone. But I didn’t appreciate how she spoke to you.”
I made a face. “I’ve had worse.”
“True.” She swallowed. “What did you need?”
I glanced at Miss Lucy. “Of course,” she answered to my unspoken request. “I’m around all day if you need me.” She curtsied to Mom, kissed me on my head, and left. It was such a tender gesture.
“She’s so good to me,” I said. “The boys, too. Sometimes I feel like I ended up with several mothers.”
I smiled at Mom, and she nodded. “I kept the people I love close, and they have fawned over you since the moment they knew you were coming.”
“I really wish she had children,” I said sadly.
“Me, too.” Mom swallowed. “I guess by now it’s common knowledge that she’s faced a long struggle with no success. I’d do nearly anything to be able to help her.”
“Have you tried?” I felt like there was little the Schreaves couldn’t accomplish.
Mom blinked a few times, trying not to cry. “I shouldn’t tell you this; it’s private. But, yes, I’ve done everything I could. I even went so far as to offer to be a surrogate and carry a baby for her.” She pressed her lips together. “It was the one time I regretted being queen. It appears my body isn’t always mine, and there are certain things I’m not allowed to do.”
“Says who?” I demanded.
“Everyone, Eadlyn. It’s not exactly a traditional thing to do, and our advisers thought the people would be upset by it. Some even argued that any baby I carried would have to be in line for the throne. It was ridiculous, so I had to let it go.”
I was quiet for a minute, watching my mother recover from a heartbreak years old, and one that wasn’t even her own in a way.
“How do you do that?”
“What?”
“It’s like you’re always giving pieces of yourself away. How do you have anything left for you? I feel exhausted watching you sometimes.”
She smiled. “When you know who matters most to you, giving things up, even yourself, doesn’t really feel like a sacrifice. There are a handful of people who I’d lay down my life for without a second thought. And then there are the people of Illéa, our subjects, who I lay my life down for in a different way.”
She lowered her eyes and touched up her already immaculate dress. “You probably have people you’d sacrifice for and you don’t know it. But you will, one day.”
For a second I wondered if we were actually related. All the people she was thinking about—Dad, Ahren, Miss Lucy, Aunt May—were important to me, too. But mostly I needed them to help me, not the other way around.
“Anyway,” she said, “what was it that you needed?”
“Oh, so Dad has deemed that the remaining boys aren’t complete lun
atics, so I’m focusing on dates this week,” I answered, leaning forward. “I’m looking for ideas that would be easy but look great on camera.”
“Ah.” She lifted her eyes to the ceiling in thought. “I’m not sure how useful I can be in that department. Nearly all the dates I had with your father during my Selection were walks around the garden.”
“Seriously? How did you two even get together? That’s so boring!”
She laughed. “Well, it gave us a lot of opportunities to talk. Or to argue, and the majority of our time spent with each other was filled with one or the other.”
I squinted. “You guys fought?”
“All. The. Time.” For some reason that brought a smile to her face.
“Honestly, the more and more I hear about your Selection, the less sense it makes. I can’t even imagine you and Dad fighting.”
“I know. There were a lot of things we needed to work through, and truthfully, we liked having someone who’d be honest with us, even when it was hard to take.”
It wasn’t that I didn’t want someone honest in my life as well—if I ever chose to get married, anyway—but he’d need to find a better way of delivering his words if he wanted a chance of sticking around.
“Okay, dates,” she said, sitting back in her chair and thinking. “I was never good at archery, but if there’s someone who is skilled at that, it might look nice.”
“I think I can do that. Oh, and I’ve already done horseback riding, so that’s out.”
“Right. Cooking, too.” She smiled to herself as if she couldn’t believe I’d allowed that date to happen.
“And it turned out disastrous.”
“Well, Kile and Henri did great! And Fox wasn’t terrible.”
“True,” I amended. I found myself thinking about Henri and me cooking alone in the kitchen, the date no one knew about.
“Sweetheart, I think instead of going for something flashy, you might try simpler dates. Have tea, take a walk in the gardens. Meals are always a good standard; you can’t eat too many times. It might look better than you riding a horse anyway.”
I’d been trying to avoid anything that might be too personal. But those types of dates gave the impression of closeness, which was something I thought the public wanted. Maybe she was right. If I went in with a list of safe topics and questions, perhaps it wouldn’t feel so bad anyway.
“Thanks, Mom. I’ll probably give that a go.”
“Any time, sweetie. I’m always here for you.”
“I know.” I fidgeted with my dress. “Sorry if I’ve been a pain lately.”
She reached across to me. “Eadlyn, you’re under a lot of stress. We understand. And short of becoming an ax murderer, there’s nothing you could do to make me love you less.”
I laughed. “An ax murderer? That’s your limit?”
“Well . . . maybe even then.” She winked at me. “Go on. If you’re doing several dates this week, you should make a plan.”
I nodded and, for reasons I wasn’t entirely sure of, scuttled into her lap for a second.
“Oof!” she complained as my weight settled.
“Love you, Mom.”
She wrapped her arms around me tightly. “I love you, too. More than you could ever know.”
I kissed her cheek and hopped up, thinking of the week ahead and hoping it would somehow appease everyone. But those thoughts were driven from my mind when I stepped into the hallway and found Baden there, waiting for me.
CHAPTER 29
BADEN STOOD AND THEN CROSSED the hall. The midday sun was filtering in through the windows, making the space warm and covering everything with a slight hint of yellow. Even his dark skin looked brighter somehow.
“Stalking me?” I asked, trying to be playful.
The hard set of his eyes told me he wasn’t in the mood. “I wasn’t sure how else to get ahold of you. You’re so hard to find.”
I crossed my arms. “Clearly you’re upset. Why don’t you tell me what it’s all about so we can move on?”
He made a face, displeased with my offer. “I want to leave.”
I felt like I’d run full speed into a brick wall. “Excuse me?”
“Last night was embarrassing. I asked you out and you shot me down.”
I held up a hand. “I never actually said no. You didn’t let me get that far.”
“Were you going to say yes?” He sounded skeptical.
I raised my arms and let them drop. “I’ll never know, because you got an attitude and walked away.”
“Are you seriously going to lecture me on having a bad attitude?”
I gasped. How dare he?
I got closer to him, though even at my full height I was dwarfed by his frame. “You know I could have you punished for speaking to me that way, right?”
“So now you’re going to bully me? First you reject me, then you use me for a little snippet of entertainment on the Report, and now I’ve had to spend my entire morning tracking you down after you told me you would meet with me during breakfast.”
“You’re one person out of twenty! I have work to do! How self-centered can you possibly be?”
His eyes widened, and he pointed at his chest. “Me? Self-centered?”
I tried to tuck my heart away, refusing to let him hurt me. “You know, you were one of my favorites. I was going to keep you around for a long time. My family liked you, and I admired your talent.”
“I don’t need your family’s stamp of approval. You were nice to me for all of an hour, then you disappear and it’s like nothing happened at all. I have the freedom to leave, and I’m ready to go.”
“Then go!”
I started walking away. I didn’t have to endure that.
He yelled down the hall, taking one last stab at me. “My friends all told me I was crazy to put my name in! They were so right!”
I kept going.
“You’re pushy! You’re selfish! What was I thinking?”
I turned a corner, even though it didn’t lead to where I was going. I could find my way eventually. I held it in, keeping the brave face I’d always been taught to have. No one could know how much that hurt.
After a trip that took twice as long as it should have, I finally made it to the third floor. I started crying the second I hit the landing, unable to stay composed any longer. Baden’s words repeated themselves in my head, and I clutched my stomach, feeling them like literal blows.
Before any of the boys had shown up, I’d had a list of ideas for how to get rid of them. I’d planned on making them so angry they’d say plenty of the things Baden just had . . . but I’d done nothing to provoke him. And he said them anyway. What was so wrong with me that I got rejected simply for being myself?
And his last words did exactly what he wanted them to. It looked like I’d had millions of choices when I drew the names nearly a month ago. How many men hadn’t entered because they already objected to me on some level?
Did people think I was pushy? Selfish? Which were the public enjoying more: the sweet moments between me and the boys or the moments when I looked like a failure?
I straightened up to head to my room, only to see that Erik was waiting outside my door for me and had undoubtedly just watched my crying fit.
I swiped at my face, trying to clean it up, but there was no hiding the puffy eyes or red cheeks. Erik seeing me like this was almost as bad as the original issue, but the only way to make it seem as if it was nothing was to act as if it was nothing.
I walked over to Erik, achingly aware of the sadness in his eyes, and he bowed as I approached.
“I feel like maybe I’ve come at a bad time,” he said, the tiniest hint of sarcasm in his voice.
I smiled. “Ever so slightly,” I answered, acknowledging my hurt against my better judgment. “Still, I’m happy to help you if I can.”
Erik pressed his lips together, unsure if he should go on. “I wanted to talk to you about Henri. He didn’t send me!” he insisted, holding up a hand.
“I think he’d come to you himself if he could speak on his own. But he’s embarrassed.” Erik swallowed. “He, uh . . . he told me about the kiss.”
I nodded. “I figured.”
“He’s afraid he’s crossed a line. He said something about holding on to you and that he probably should have let go, but then he didn’t and—”
I shook my head. “That makes it sound much worse than it was. He . . . we . . .” I stood there, lost. “We were trying to communicate, and when the words didn’t work, well, that did.”
For some reason I was upset admitting this to Erik, even though he already knew everything.
“So you’re not cross with him?”
I heaved out a breath, almost laughing because the idea was so bizarre. “No. He’s one of the kindest people I know. I’m not upset with him in the slightest.”
Erik nodded. “Would it be all right if I told him as much?”
“Absolutely.” I wiped at my eyes again, pulling off smudged eyeliner in the process. “Ick.”
“Are you okay, Your Highness?” His voice was so tender but, mercifully, lacking pity. I almost explained what had happened to him, but it was borderline inappropriate. It was one thing to talk about Henri; it was another to discuss the other suitors at length.
“I am. Or will be. Don’t worry about me; just make sure Henri is all right.”
His expression changed slightly, and I could see the weight of that role in his eyes. “I do my best.”
I studied him. “Henri really wants it, doesn’t he?”
Erik shook his head. “There is no ‘it.’ He wants you.”
After Baden’s heart-shattering speech, it was hard to imagine this was possible, but Erik confirmed it as he went on.
“He talks of you endlessly. Each day in the Men’s Parlor, I’m translating political science books to him or trying to explain the difference between the absolute monarchy you have here and the constitutional monarchy he grew up with in Swendway. He even—” Erik paused to chuckle. “He even studies the way your brothers walk and stand. He wants to be worthy of you in every way.”
I swallowed, overcome by this admission. Smirking, trying to dull the feeling, I replied, “But he can’t even speak to me.”
