by Kiera Cass
The crowd chanted after the man. If I had been in my right mind, I would have known I was supposed to call out, too, or at least applaud. The girls around me did, and so did our parents, even if they were in shock. But I wasn’t paying attention. All I saw were Marlee’s and Carter’s faces.
We had been given front-row seats for a reason—to show us what would happen if we made such a stupid mistake—but from here, not more than twenty feet from the platform, I could see and hear everything that really mattered.
Marlee was staring at Carter, and he was looking right back at her, craning his neck to do so. The fear was unmistakable, but there was also this look on her face, as if she was trying to reassure him that he was worth all this.
“I love you, Marlee,” he called to her. It was barely audible over the crowd, but it was there. “We’re going to be okay. It’ll be okay, I promise.”
Marlee couldn’t speak in her fear, but she nodded back at him. In that moment, all I could think of was how beautiful she looked. Her golden hair was messy and her dress a disaster, and she’d lost her shoes at some point; but, my God, she looked radiant.
“Marlee Tames and Carter Woodwork, you are both hereby stripped of your castes. You are the lowest of the low. You are Eights!”
The crowd cheered, which seemed wrong. Weren’t there any Eights standing here who hated being referred to that way?
“And to inflict upon you the shame and pain you have brought on His Majesty, you will be publicly caned with fifteen strikes. May your scars remind you of your many sins!”
Caned? What did that even mean?
My answer came a second later. The two masked men who had bound Carter and Marlee pulled long rods out of a bucket of water. They swiped them in the air a few times, testing them out, and I could hear the sticks whistling as they cut at the air. The crowd applauded this warm-up with the same frenzy and adoration they had just given the Selected.
In a few seconds, Carter’s backside would be humiliatingly struck, and Marlee’s precious hands …
“No!” I cried. “No!”
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Natalie whispered as Elise made a weak moan into her guard’s shoulder. But nothing stopped.
I stood up and lunged toward Maxon’s seat, falling over my father’s lap.
“Maxon! Maxon, stop this!”
“You have to sit down, miss,” my guard said, trying to wrangle me back into my chair.
“Maxon, I beg you, please!”
“It’s not safe, miss!”
“Get off me!” I yelled at my guard, kicking him as hard as I could. Try as I may, he held on tight.
“America, please sit down!” my mother urged.
“One!” cried the man on the stage, and I saw the cane fall on Marlee’s hands.
She let out the most pathetic whimper, like a dog that had been kicked. Carter made no sound.
“Maxon! Maxon!” I yelled. “Stop it! Stop it, please!”
He heard me; I knew he did. I saw him slowly close his eyes and swallow one time, as if he could push the sound out of his head.
“Two!”
Marlee’s cry was pure anguish. I couldn’t imagine her pain—and there were still thirteen more strikes to go.
“America, sit!” Mom insisted. May was between her and Dad, her face averted, her cries almost as pained as Marlee’s.
“Three!”
I looked at Marlee’s parents. Her mother buried her head in her hands, her father’s arms wrapped around her, as if he could protect her from everything they were losing in that moment.
“Let me go!” I yelled at my guard to no avail. “MAXON!” I screamed. My tears were blurring my vision, but I could see him enough to know he’d heard me.
I looked at the other girls. Shouldn’t we do something? Some appeared to be crying, too. Elise was bent over, a palm pressed to her forehead, looking as if she might pass out. No one seemed angry though. Shouldn’t they be?
“Five!”
The sound of Marlee’s shrieks would haunt me for the rest of my life. I’d never heard anything like it. Or the sickening echo of the crowd cheering it on, as if this was merely entertainment. Or Maxon’s silence, allowing this to happen. Or the crying of the girls around me, accepting it.
The only thing that gave me any sort of hope was Carter. Even though he was sweating from the trauma and shaking with pain, he managed to pant out comforting words to Marlee.
“It’ll be … over soon,” he managed.
“Six!”
“Love … you,” he stammered.
I couldn’t handle this. I tried to claw at my guard, but his thick sleeves protected him. I shrieked as he gripped me tighter.
“Get your hands off my daughter!” Dad yelled, pulling the guard’s arms. With that space, I wiggled myself until I was facing him and thrust my knee up as hard as I could.
He let out a muffled cry and fell back, my dad catching him on the way down.
I hopped over the railing, clumsy in my dress and heeled shoes. “Marlee! Marlee!” I screamed, running as quickly as I could. I almost got to the steps; but two guards caught up with me, and that was a fight I couldn’t win.
From the angle behind the stage, I saw that they’d exposed Carter’s backside, and his skin was already torn, pieces hanging sickeningly. Blood was trickling down, ruining what used to be his dress pants. I couldn’t imagine the state of Marlee’s hands.
The thought sent me into an even deeper hysteria. I screamed and kicked at the guards, but all that accomplished was the loss of one of my shoes.
I was dragged inside as the man cried out for the next strike, and I didn’t know whether to be grateful or ashamed. On the one hand, I didn’t have to see it all; on the other, I felt like I’d abandoned Marlee in the worst possible moment of her life.
If I had been a true friend, wouldn’t I have done better than that?
“Marlee!” I screamed. “Marlee, I’m sorry!” But the crowd was so frenzied, and she was crying so much, I didn’t think she heard me.
CHAPTER 10
I THRASHED AND SHRIEKED ALL the way back. The guards had to hold me so tightly that I knew I’d be covered in bruises later, but I didn’t care. I had to fight.
“Where’s her room?” I heard one ask, and twisted to see a maid walking down the hall. I didn’t recognize her, but she clearly knew me. She escorted the guards to my door. I heard my maids shouting in protest at the way I was being handled.
“Calm down, miss; that’s no way to behave,” a guard said with a grunt as they threw me onto my bed.
“Get the hell out of my room!” I screamed.
My maids, all of them in tears, rushed over to me. Mary started trying to get the dirt from my fall off my dress, but I slapped her hands away. They knew. They knew, and they didn’t warn me.
“You, too!” I yelled at them. “I want all of you out! NOW!”
They recoiled at my words, and the tremors running down Lucy’s little body almost made me regret saying them. But I had to be alone.
“We’re sorry, miss,” Anne said, pulling the other two back. They knew how close I was to Marlee.
Marlee …
“Just go,” I whispered, turning to bury my face in my pillow.
Once the door clicked shut, I slipped off my remaining shoe and climbed deeper into bed, finally making sense of a hundred tiny details. So this was the secret she had been too afraid to share. She didn’t want to stay because she wasn’t in love with Maxon, but she didn’t want to leave and be separated from Carter.
A dozen moments suddenly made sense: why she chose to stand in certain places or stared toward doors. It was Carter; he was there. The time the king and queen of Swendway came and she refused to get out of the sun … Carter. It was Marlee he was waiting for when I ran into him outside the bathroom. It was always him, standing silently by, perhaps sneaking a kiss here and there, waiting for a time when they could truly be together.
How much must she have loved
him to be so careless, to risk so much?
How could this even be real? It didn’t seem possible. I knew that there would be a punishment for something like this, but that it happened to Marlee, that she was gone …. I couldn’t understand it.
My stomach writhed. It so easily could have been me. If Aspen and I hadn’t been so careful, if someone had overheard our conversation on the dance floor last night, that could have been us.
Would I ever see Marlee again? Where would she be sent? Would her parents have anything to do with her? I didn’t know what Carter was before the draft made him a Two, though my guess was he was a Seven. Seven was low, but it was better than Eight by a long shot.
I couldn’t believe she was an Eight. This could not be real.
Would Marlee ever be able to use her hands again? How long did such wounds take to heal? And what about Carter? Would he even be able to walk after that?
That could have been Aspen.
That could have been me.
I felt so sick. I had a cruel sense of relief that it wasn’t me, and the guilt of that relief was so heavy it was hard to breathe. I was a terrible person, a terrible friend. I was ashamed.
There was nothing left to do but cry.
I spent the morning and most of the afternoon curled in a ball on my bed. My maids brought me lunch, but I couldn’t touch it. Mercifully, they didn’t insist on staying and let me be alone in my sadness.
I couldn’t pull myself together. The more I thought over what had happened, the sicker I felt. I couldn’t get the sound of Marlee screaming out of my head. I wondered if a time would come when I’d forget.
A hesitant knock came at the door. My maids weren’t here to open it, and I didn’t feel like moving, so I didn’t. After a brief pause the visitor came in anyway.
“America?” Maxon said quietly.
I didn’t answer.
He shut the door and walked across the room to stand by my bed.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t have a choice.”
I stayed still, unable to speak.
“It was that or kill them. The cameras found them last night and circulated the footage without us knowing,” he insisted.
He didn’t talk for a while, maybe thinking that if he stood there long enough, I’d find something I wanted to say to him.
Finally he knelt beside me. “America? Look at me, darling?”
The endearment made my stomach turn. I did look at him though.
“I had to. I had to.”
“How could you just stand there?” My voice sounded funny. “How could you not do anything?”
“I told you once before that part of this job is looking calm, even when you aren’t. It’s something I’ve had to master. You will, too.”
My brow folded together. He couldn’t still think I wanted that now? Apparently, he did. As he slowly took in my expression, his fell into absolute shock.
“America, I know you’re upset, but please? I told you; you’re the only one. Please don’t do this.”
“Maxon,” I said slowly, “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can do this. I could never stand by and watch someone get hurt like that, knowing it was my judgment that sent them there. I can’t be a princess.”
He drew in a staggered breath, probably the closest thing to a truly sad emotion I’d ever seen from him.
“America, you’re basing the rest of your life on five minutes of someone else’s. Things like that rarely happen. You wouldn’t have to do that.”
I sat up, hoping it would help me see matters more clearly. “I just … I can’t even think right now.”
“Then don’t,” he urged. “Don’t let this make a decision for the both of us when you’re so upset.”
Somehow those words sounded like a trick.
“Please,” he whispered intensely, clutching my hands. The desperation in his voice made me look at him. “You promised you’d stay with me. Don’t give up, not like this. Please.”
I let out a breath and nodded.
His relief was palpable. “Thank you.”
Maxon sat there, holding on to my hand like a lifeline. It didn’t feel like it did yesterday.
“I know …,” he started. “I know that you’re hesitant about the job. I always knew that would be hard for you to embrace. And I’m sure this makes it harder. But … what about me? Do you still feel sure about me?”
I fidgeted, uncertain of what to say. “I told you I couldn’t think.”
“Oh. Right.” His absolute dejection was clear. “I’ll let you be for now. We’ll talk soon though.”
He leaned forward like he might kiss me. I looked down, and he cleared his throat. “Good-bye, America.”
Then he was gone.
And I broke down all over again.
Maybe minutes or hours later, my maids came in and found me bawling. I rolled over, and there was no way they could miss the pleading in my eyes.
“Oh, my lady,” Mary cried, coming to embrace me. “Let’s get you ready for bed.”
Lucy and Anne began working on the buttons of my dress while Mary cleaned my face and smoothed my hair.
My maids sat around me, comforting me as I cried. I wanted to explain that it was more than Marlee, that it was this sick ache over Maxon, too; but it was embarrassing to admit how deeply I cared, how wrong I’d been.
Then my heartbreak doubled when I asked for my parents, and Anne told me that all the families had been escorted away quickly. I didn’t even get to say good-bye.
Anne stroked my hair, gently shushing me. Mary was at my feet, rubbing my legs comfortingly. Lucy simply held her hands to her heart, as if she felt it all with me.
“Thank you,” I whispered between sniffles. “I’m sorry about earlier.”
They exchanged glances. “There’s nothing to apologize for, miss,” Anne insisted.
I wanted to correct her, because I’d certainly crossed the line with how I treated them, but another knock came at the door. I tried to think of how to politely say I didn’t want to see Maxon right now, but when Lucy hopped up to answer it, Aspen’s face was on the other side.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, ladies, but I heard the crying and wanted to make sure you were all right,” he said.
He crossed the floor toward my bed, a bold move considering the day we’d all had.
“Lady America, I’m very sorry about your friend. I heard she was something special. If you need anything, I’m here.” The look in Aspen’s eyes communicated so much: that he was willing to sacrifice any number of things to make this better if he could, that he wanted to take it all away if only for my sake.
What an idiot I’d been. I’d almost given up the one person in the world who really knew me, really loved me. Aspen and I had been building a life together, and the Selection nearly destroyed it.
Aspen was home. Aspen was safe.
“Thank you,” I replied quietly. “Your kindness means a great deal to me.”
Aspen gave me an almost imperceptible smile. I could tell he wanted to stay, and I wanted that as well; but with my maids bustling around, it couldn’t happen. I remembered thinking the other day that I would always have Aspen, and I was happy to find that it was absolutely true.
CHAPTER 11
HEY KITTEN,
I’M SO SORRY WE DIDN’T GET TO SAY GOOD-BYE. THE KING SEEMED TO THINK IT WOULD BE SAFEST FOR THE FAMILIES TO LEAVE AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. I TRIED TO GET TO YOU, I PROMISE. IT JUST DIDN’T HAPPEN.
I WANTED TO LET YOU KNOW WE GOT HOME SAFELY. THE KING LET US KEEP OUR CLOTHES, AND MAY IS SPENDING EVERY SPARE MOMENT IN THOSE DRESSES. I SUSPECT SHE’S SECRETLY HOPING SHE NEVER GROWS ANOTHER INCH SO SHE CAN USE HER BALL GOWN AT HER WEDDING. IT REALLY LIFTS HER SPIRITS. I’M NOT SURE I’LL EVER FORGIVE THE ROYAL FAMILY FOR MAKING TWO OF MY CHILDREN WATCH THAT FIRSTHAND, BUT YOU KNOW HOW RESILIENT MAY IS. IT’S YOU I’M WORRIED ABOUT. WRITE US SOON.
MAYBE THIS ISN’T THE RIGHT THING TO SAY, BUT I WANT YOU TO KNOW: WHEN YOU RAN FOR THE S
TAGE, I’VE NEVER BEEN SO PROUD OF YOU IN ALL MY LIFE. YOU’VE ALWAYS BEEN BEAUTIFUL; YOU’VE ALWAYS BEEN TALENTED. AND NOW I KNOW THAT YOUR MORAL COMPASS IS PERFECTLY ALIGNED, THAT YOU SEE CLEARLY WHEN THINGS ARE WRONG, AND YOU DO EVERYTHING YOU CAN TO STOP IT. AS A FATHER, I CAN’T ASK FOR MORE.
I LOVE YOU, AMERICA. AND I’M SO, SO PROUD.
DAD
How was it that Dad always knew what to say? I kind of wanted someone to rearrange the stars so they spelled out his words. I needed them big and bright, and somewhere I could see them when things felt dark. I love you. And I’m so, so proud.
The Elite were given the option of breakfast in their rooms, and I took it. I wasn’t ready to see Maxon yet. By the afternoon I was a bit more put together and decided to go down to the Women’s Room for a while. If nothing else, there was at least a television, and I could stand to be distracted.
The girls seemed surprised when I walked in, which I guessed was to be expected. I did tend to hide from time to time, and if there was ever a moment to do that, it was now. Celeste was lounging on a couch, flipping through a magazine. Illéa didn’t have newspapers like I’d heard other countries did. We had the Report. Magazines were the closest things we had to printed news, and people like me could never afford them. Celeste always seemed to have one on hand, and, for some reason, that irritated me today.
Kriss and Elise were at a table drinking tea and talking as Natalie stood in the back, looking out a window.
“Oh, look,” Celeste said to no one in particular. “Here’s another one of my ads.”
Celeste was a model. The idea of her flipping through pictures of herself drove my irritation deeper.
“Lady America?” someone called. I turned and saw the queen and some of her attendants in the corner. She looked like she was doing needlework.
I curtsied, and she waved me over. My stomach did a flip as I considered my behavior yesterday. I’d never intended to offend her and was suddenly afraid I’d done just that. I felt the eyes of the other girls on me. The queen usually spoke to us as a group, rarely one-on-one.
I gave another curtsy as I approached. “Majesty.”
“Please sit, Lady America,” she said kindly, motioning to an empty chair across from her.
