The One

by Kiera Cass

  “America,” Silvia whispered. “Your turn.”

  I tried to wipe the worry off my face and focus on positive things, but I realized there weren’t any. I was about to kill a part of myself by punishing someone beyond what I thought was deserved and give the king something he wanted in a neat, short stroke.

  The cameras clicked, the bulbs flashed, and people whispered their praises to one another as I walked quietly toward the royal family. I made eye contact with Maxon, who was the picture of calm. Was that his years of discipline or true happiness coming through? His face was reassuring, but I was certain he could see the anxiety in my gaze. I saw my open spot for the olive branch and curtsied before placing my offering at the king’s feet, deliberately looking at anything in the room other than him.

  As soon as I was in my place, the music came to a perfectly calculated stop. King Clarkson walked forward, standing on the edge of his stage, the circle of branches at his feet.

  “Ladies and gentlemen of Illéa, today the final four beautiful young women of the Selection come before us all to present themselves to the law. Our great laws are what hold our nation together, the foundation for the peace we’ve so long enjoyed.”

  Peace? I thought. Are you kidding?

  “One of these young ladies will stand before you soon, no longer a commoner, but a princess. And as a member of the royal family, it will be her job to hold on to what is right, not for her own benefit, but for yours.”

  . . . and how am I doing that now?

  “Please join me in applauding their humility in their submission to the law and their bravery in upholding it.”

  The king started clapping, and the room joined him. The applause continued as he stepped away, and I glanced down the row of girls. The only face I could really see was Kriss’s. She shrugged and gave me a half smile before facing forward again and raising herself to her full height.

  A guard by the door trumpeted into the room. “We call into the presence of His Majesty King Clarkson, Her Majesty Queen Amberly, and His Royal Highness Prince Maxon the criminal Jacob Digger.”

  Slowly, no doubt embarrassed by the spectacle, Jacob walked into the Great Room. His wrists were in handcuffs, and he flinched at the cameras’ lights and went skittishly to bow in front of Elise. I couldn’t see her very well without leaning too far forward, so I turned slightly and listened as she spoke the lines we all would in turn.

  “Jacob, what is your crime?” she asked. She projected her voice really well, much better than usual.

  “Theft, my lady,” he answered meekly.

  “And how long is your sentence?”

  “Twelve years, my lady.”

  Slowly, not drawing attention to herself, Kriss looked my way. With hardly a change in her expression, she questioned what was happening. I nodded.

  Small crimes of theft, we’d been told. If that was true, then this man would have been beaten in his town square, or, if he had been put in prison, it would have been for two or three years at the most. In two words, Jacob confirmed all my fears.

  Subtly, I turned my eyes toward the king. There was no mistaking his pleasure. Whoever this man was, he wasn’t just some thief. The king was delighting in his downfall.

  Elise stood and walked down to Jacob, placing her hand on his shoulder. He hadn’t truly looked her in the eye until that moment.

  “Go, faithful subject, and pay your debt to the king.” Her voice rang out in the quiet of the room.

  Jacob nodded his head. He looked at the king, and I could see he wanted to do something. He wanted to fight or make an accusation, but he didn’t. No doubt someone else would pay for any mistakes he made today. Jacob stood and exited the room as the audience applauded.

  The next man had difficulty moving. As he turned to make his way down the carpet toward Celeste, he doubled over and fell. A collective gasp came from the room, but before he could garner too much sympathy, two guards came and walked him to Celeste. To her credit, her voice wasn’t as sure as it usually was as she ordered the man to pay his debt.

  Kriss looked as steady as ever until her criminal got closer. He was younger, probably around our age, and his steps were steady, almost determined. When he turned up the carpet to Kriss, I saw a tattoo on his neck. It looked like a cross, though it seemed as if whoever had done it messed up a bit.

  Kriss delivered her lines well. Anyone who didn’t know her wouldn’t be able to read the hint of regret in her voice. The room applauded, and she sat back down, her smile only slightly less bright than it usually was.

  The guard yelled out the name Adam Carver, and I realized it was my turn. Adam, Adam, Adam. I needed to remember his name. Because I had to do this now, right? The other girls had. Maxon might forgive me if I failed, and the king would never like me either way; but I would certainly lose the queen, and that backed me into a corner. If I wanted a chance at all, I needed to deliver.

  Adam was older, maybe my dad’s age, and there was something wrong with his leg. He didn’t fall, but it took him so long to reach me that it made the whole thing that much worse. I just wanted it to be done.

  As Adam knelt in front of me, I focused on the few lines I needed to deliver.

  “Adam, what is your crime?” I asked.

  “Theft, my lady.”

  “And how long is your sentence?”

  Adam cleared his throat. “Life,” he squeaked out.

  Around the room, murmurs began as people were sure they hadn’t heard that right.

  Though I hated to deviate from my lines, I too needed confirmation. “How long did you say?”

  “Life, my lady.” It was apparent in Adam’s voice that he was on the verge of tears.

  I peeked over at Maxon. He looked uncomfortable. Wordlessly, I pleaded for help. His eyes conveyed how sorry he was that he couldn’t guide me.

  As I was about to focus again on Adam, my eyes flickered to the king, who had quickly shifted his weight. I watched him run his hand across his mouth in an effort to hide his smile.

  He’d set me up.

  Perhaps he suspected I would hate this part of the Selection and planned to do what he could to make me look disobedient. But even if I went through with it, what kind of person was I to put a man in prison forever? No one would love me now.

  “Adam,” I said softly. He looked up at me, tears threatening to fall at any moment. I noticed quickly that every whisper in the room ceased. “How much did you steal?”

  People were trying to hear, but it was impossible.

  He swallowed and darted his eyes toward the king. “Some clothes for my girls.”

  I spoke quickly. “But this isn’t about that, is it?”

  In a gesture so minute I almost missed it, Adam shook his head once.

  So I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do it. But I had to do something.

  The idea hit me so quickly, and I was positive it was our only way out. I wasn’t sure if it would gain Adam his freedom, and I tried not to think of how sad it would make me. It was simply right, and I had to do it.

  I stood and made my way to Adam, touching him on his shoulder. He winced, waiting for me to tell him he was going to prison.

  “Stand up,” I said.

  Adam looked at me, confusion in his eyes.

  “Please,” I said, and took one of his cuffed hands to pull him along.

  Adam walked with me up the aisle, to the raised area where the royal family sat. When we got to the stairs, I turned to him and sighed.

  I took off one of the beautiful earrings that Maxon had given me, then the other. I placed both in Adam’s hands; and he stood there, dumbstruck, as my beautiful bracelet followed. And then—because, if I was truly going to do this, I wanted to give everything—I reached behind my neck and unclasped my songbird necklace, the one my dad had given me. I hoped he was watching and not hating me for giving his gift away. Once I dropped it into Adam’s hand, I curled his fingers around the treasures, then stepped to the side so that he was standing directly i
n front of King Clarkson.

  I pointed toward the thrones. “Go, faithful subject, and pay your debt to the king.”

  There were gasps and murmurs around the room, but I ignored them. All I could see was the sour expression on the king’s face. If he wanted to play a game with my character, then I was prepared to answer in turn.

  Adam slowly climbed the steps, and I could see both the joy and fear in his eyes. As he approached the king, he fell to his knees and held out his hands, full of jewels.

  King Clarkson shot me a glance, letting me know this wouldn’t be the end of it, but then reached out and took the jewelry out of Adam’s hands.

  The crowd erupted, but when I looked back, the other girls had mixed reactions on their faces. Adam backed away from the king quickly, perhaps afraid he’d change his mind. My hope was that, with so many cameras going and so many people writing articles about this, someone would follow up and make sure he made it home. When Adam got back to my level, he tried to hug me, even with the handcuffs on. He cried and blessed me, and went from the room looking like the happiest soul on earth.

  CHAPTER 20

  THE ROYAL FAMILY EXITED OUT the side door, and the other Elite and I left the way we’d come as the cameras and guests filmed and applauded.

  Silvia’s eyes when we came out the doorway were positively deadly. It looked like it was taking every last bit of strength she had to keep from throttling me. She led us around the corner to a small parlor.

  “In,” she ordered, as if anything more would push her past the brink. She shut the doors, not bothering to join us.

  “Do you always have to be the center of attention?” Elise snapped.

  “I didn’t do anything except what I tried to ask you to do. You were the one who didn’t believe me!”

  “You act like such a saint. They were criminals. We weren’t doing anything a magistrate wouldn’t do; we just did it in pretty dresses.”

  “Elise, did you see those men? Some of them were sick. And the sentences for their crimes were way too long,” I implored.

  “She’s right,” Kriss said. “Life for theft? Unless he carted the palace away, what could he have possibly taken to deserve that?”

  “Nothing,” I vowed. “He took clothes for his family. Look, you guys are lucky. You were born into better castes. If you’re in the lower ones, and you lose your main provider . . . things don’t go well. I couldn’t send him to jail for life and at the same time sentence his family to becoming Eights. I couldn’t.”

  “Where is your pride, America?” Elise begged. “Where is your sense of duty or honor? You’re just a girl; you aren’t even the princess. And if you were, you wouldn’t be allowed to make decisions like that. You are here to follow the king’s rules, and you have never done that! Not even from the first night!”

  “Maybe the rules are wrong!” I screamed, at perhaps the worst time possible.

  The doors were flung open, and King Clarkson stormed in while Queen Amberly and Maxon stood in the hall. He grabbed my arm, hard—thankfully not my injured one—and dragged me out of the room.

  “Where are you taking me?” I asked, fear making my breath come out in short bursts.

  He didn’t answer.

  I looked over my shoulder at the girls as the king pulled me down the hall. Celeste wrapped her arms around herself, and Elise reached for Kriss’s hand. For as upset as she was, Elise didn’t seem happy to see me go.

  “Clarkson, don’t act in haste,” the queen urged quietly.

  We rounded a corner, and I was forced into a room. The queen and Maxon filed in behind us as the king shoved me toward a small couch.

  “Sit,” he commanded unnecessarily. He paced the floor, a lion in a cage. When he stopped, he faced Maxon.

  “You swore!” he bellowed. “You said she was under control. First the outburst on the Report, then you nearly get yourself killed on the roof, and now this? It ends today, Maxon.”

  “Father, did you hear the cheers? People appreciate her sympathy. She’s your greatest asset right now.”

  “I beg your pardon?” His voice was an iceberg, slow and deadly.

  Maxon paused a moment at the chill but continued. “When she suggested that people defend themselves, the public responded positively. I daresay the reason more people aren’t dead is because of her. And this? Father, I couldn’t put a man in jail for life over what was supposed to be a petty crime. How can you expect that from someone who’s probably seen more than her fair share of friends beaten for less? She’s refreshing. The majority of the population is in the lower castes, and they relate to her.”

  The king shook his head and started walking again. “I let her stay because she kept you alive. You are my most valuable asset, not her. If we lose you, we lose everything. And I don’t just mean through death. If you aren’t committed to this life, if you lose your focus, this will all fall apart.” He waved his arms at the wide room, letting the silence hang.

  “You’re being brainwashed,” the king accused. “You change a little every day. These girls, this one more than the others, are all useless.”

  “Clarkson, perhaps—” He silenced the queen with a look, and whatever her opinion was fell away.

  The king turned back to Maxon. “I have a proposition for you.”

  “I’m not interested,” he shot back.

  King Clarkson raised his arms in front of him, gesturing that he meant no harm. “Hear me out.”

  Maxon sighed.

  “These girls have been disastrous. Even the Asian’s connections have done nothing for me. The Two is too concerned with fame; and the other, well, she’s not entirely hopeless but not good enough, if you ask me. This one,” he said, pointing at me, “whatever value she’s had has been completely overshadowed by her inability to contain herself.

  “This has all gone terribly wrong. And I know you. I know you’re afraid of missing something, so this is my thought.”

  I watched the king walk around Maxon. “Let’s call this off. Let’s get rid of all the girls.”

  Maxon opened his mouth to protest, but the king held up a hand. “I’m not suggesting you stay single. I’m simply saying that we still have the entries of all the eligible girls in the country sitting around somewhere. Wouldn’t it be nice if you got to handpick a few girls to come to the palace? Maybe find one who looks like the French king’s daughter; remember how fond you were of her?”

  I lowered my eyes. Maxon had never mentioned a French girl.

  It genuinely felt as if someone took a chisel and chipped a crack in my heart.

  “Father, I couldn’t.”

  “Oh, but you could. You’re the prince. And I think we’ve had enough outbursts that we could deem this lot unfit. You could have a real choice this time.”

  I looked up again. Maxon’s eyes were focused on the floor. I could see he was struggling.

  “This might even appease the rebels temporarily. Think of that!” the king added. “If we send these girls home, wait a few months like we’re calling off the Selection, and then bring in a new group of lovely, educated, pleasant women . . . that could change a lot of things.”

  Maxon tried to say something but only closed his mouth again.

  “Either way, you should ask yourself if that,” he said, pointing to me again, “is someone you could really spend your life with. Dramatic, selfish, money hungry, and, to be quite honest, very plain. Look at her, son.”

  Maxon’s eyes darted down to mine, holding them for a second before I had to turn away from humiliation.

  “I’ll give you a few days. For now there’s the press to deal with. Amberly.”

  The queen scurried over, placing her arm through the king’s, leaving us alone and speechless.

  After a short pause, Maxon came to help me stand up.

  “Thanks.”

  Maxon only nodded. “I should probably go with them. No doubt they’ll have questions for me as well.”

  “That’s a pretty nice offer,” I co
mmented.

  “Maybe the most generous one he’s ever made.”

  I didn’t want to know if he was seriously considering this. There was nothing else to say, so I made my way past him, taking the back route to my room, hoping to outrun everything I was feeling.

  My maids informed me that dinner would be on our own tonight, and when I couldn’t be bothered to communicate with them, they graciously excused themselves. I lay on my bed, lost in my thoughts.

  I’d done the right thing today, hadn’t I? I believed in justice, but the Convicting wasn’t justice. Still, I kept wondering if I’d actually accomplished anything. If that man was an enemy to the king somehow, which I had to believe he was, then surely he would be punished in some other way. Was it all for nothing?

  And as frivolous as it was when I considered everything else going on, I couldn’t stop thinking about this French girl. Why hadn’t Maxon mentioned her? Was she here a lot? Why would he keep her a secret?

  I heard the knock and assumed it was my food, even though it seemed a little early.

  “Come in,” I called, not wanting to get out of bed.

  The door opened, and Celeste’s dark hair swished into view.

  “In the mood for some company?” she asked. Kriss peeked in behind her, and I saw the edge of Elise’s arm hiding in the back.

  I sat up. “Sure.”

  They ambled in, leaving the door open. Celeste, still shocking me every time she smiled so genuinely, climbed into my bed without even asking. Not that I minded. Kriss followed, sitting closer to my feet, and Elise balanced on the edge, ever the lady.

  Kriss quietly asked what I was sure they were all wondering. “Did he hurt you?”

  “No.” Then I realized that wasn’t entirely true. “He didn’t hit me or anything; he just pulled me away a little too roughly.”

  “What did he say?” Elise fiddled with a piece of her dress as she spoke.

  “He’s not happy with my outburst. If it was the king choosing, I’d be long gone by now.”