by Kiera Cass
Then again, the last time they’d asked us about something that did matter, I suggested dissolving the castes and nearly got thrown out of the competition.
“Lady Celeste, have you seen the princess’s suite?” Gavril asked jovially.
I grinned to myself, grateful he didn’t ask me the same question. Celeste’s perfect smile managed to widen, and she flipped her hair over her shoulder playfully before answering.
“Well, Gavril, not yet. But I’m certainly hoping to earn the privilege. Of course, King Clarkson has provided us with the most beautiful accommodations, I can’t imagine anything better than what we already have. The, um . . . the beds are so . . .”
Celeste stammered just a bit as her eyes caught two guards rushing into the studio. Our seats were arranged in such a way that I could see them as they ran to the king, but Kriss and Elise had their backs to the action. They both tried to turn their heads discreetly, but it did them no good.
“Luxurious. And it would be more than I could dream of to . . .” Celeste continued, not totally focused on her answer.
But it appeared she didn’t need to be. The king stood and came over, cutting her off.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for the interruption, but this is very urgent.” He clutched a piece of paper in one hand as he smoothed his tie with the other. He was composed as he spoke. “Since our country’s birth, the rebel forces have been the bane of our society. Over the years, their means of attacking the palace, not to mention the common man, have become far more aggressive.
“It appears they have sunk to new lows. As you may well know, the four remaining young ladies of the Selection represent a wide range of castes. We have a Two, a Three, a Four, and a Five. We’re honored to have such a varied group, but this has given a strange incentive to the rebels.”
The king looked over his shoulder at us before continuing. “We are prepared for attacks on the palace, and when the rebels attack the public, we intercede as best we can. And I would not worry you if I thought that I, as your king, could protect you, but . . .
“The rebels are attacking by caste.”
The words hung in the air. In an almost friendly gesture, Celeste and I shared a confused glance.
“They have wanted to end the monarchy for a long time. Recent attacks on the families of these young girls have shown the lengths that they’re prepared to go to, and we’ve sent guards from the palace to protect the Elite’s loved ones. But now that is not enough. If you are a Two, Three, Four, or Five—that is, in the same caste as any of these ladies—you may be subject to an attack from the rebels based on that fact alone.”
I covered my mouth and heard Celeste suck in a breath.
“Beginning today, the rebels intend to attack Twos and work their way down the castes,” the king added solemnly.
It was sinister. If they couldn’t get us to abandon the Selection for our families, they would get a very large portion of the country to want us out. The longer we held on, the more the people would hate us for risking their lives.
“That is sad news, indeed, my king,” Gavril said, breaking the silence.
The king nodded. “We will seek a solution, of course. But we have reports of eight attacks today in five different provinces, all of them against Twos and all of them resulting in at least one death.”
The hand that had been frozen over my mouth dropped to my heart. People had died today at our expense.
“For now,” King Clarkson continued, “we encourage you to stay close to home and to take any security measures possible.”
“Excellent advice, my king,” Gavril said. He turned to us. “Ladies, anything you’d like to add?”
Elise merely shook her head.
Kriss took a deep breath. “I know that Twos and Threes are being targeted, but your homes are safer than most of the ones for lower castes. If you can take in a family of Fours or Fives that you know well, I think that would be a good idea.”
Celeste nodded. “Stay safe. Do what the king says.”
She turned to me, and I realized I needed to say something. When I was on the Report and feeling a bit lost, I tended to look to Maxon, as if he could silently give me advice. Falling into that habit, I searched for his eyes. But all I saw was his blond hair as he stared into his lap, his dejected frown the only thing visible.
Of course he was worried about his people. But this was about more than protecting his citizens. He knew we might leave.
And shouldn’t we? How many Fives could lose their lives because I sat on my stool in the bright lights of the palace studio?
But how could I—or any of the girls—shoulder that burden? We weren’t the ones taking their lives. I remembered everything August and Georgia said to us, and I knew there was only one thing we could do.
“Fight,” I said to no one in particular. Then remembering where I was, I turned to the camera. “Fight. The rebels are bullies. They’re trying to scare you into doing what they want. And what if you do? What kind of future do you think they’ll offer you? These people, these tyrants, aren’t going to suddenly stop being violent. If you give them power, they’re going to be a thousand times worse. So fight. However you can, fight.”
I felt blood and adrenaline pulsing through me, like I was ready to attack the rebels myself. I’d had enough. They’d kept us all in terror, victimized our families. If one of those Southern rebels was in front of me right now, I wouldn’t run.
Gavril started speaking again, but I was so angry, all I could hear was my heart beating in my ears. Before I knew it, the cameras were off and the lights were powering down.
Maxon went over to his father and whispered something to which the king shook his head.
The girls stood and started to leave.
“Go straight to your rooms,” Maxon said gently. “Dinner will be brought up, and I’ll be visiting you all soon.”
As I walked past them, the king put a single finger on my arm, and in that small gesture, I knew he meant for me to stop.
“That wasn’t very smart,” he said.
I shrugged. “What we’re doing isn’t working. Keep this up and you won’t have anyone left to rule over.”
He flicked his hand, dismissing me, fed up with me again.
Maxon quietly knocked on my door, letting himself in. I was already in my nightgown, reading in my bed. I’d begun to wonder if he was going to come at all.
“It’s so late,” I whispered, though there was no one to disturb.
“I know. I had to speak with all the others, and it’s been extremely taxing. Elise was very shaken. She’s feeling particularly guilty. I wouldn’t be surprised if she left in the next day or two.”
Even though he’d expressed his lackluster feelings for Elise more than once, I could see just how much this hurt him. I curled my legs to my chest so he could sit.
“What about Kriss and Celeste?”
“Kriss is almost too optimistic. She’s sure that people will be careful and protect themselves. I don’t see how that’s possible if there’s no way to tell when or where the rebels will attack next. They’re all over the country. But she’s hopeful. You know how she is.”
“Yeah.”
He sighed. “Celeste is fine. She’s concerned, of course; but as Kriss pointed out, the Twos are most likely to be the safest during all this. And she’s always so determined.” He laughed to himself, staring at the floor. “Mostly she seemed concerned that I would be upset with her if she stayed. As if I could hold it against her for choosing this over going home.”
I sighed. “It’s a good point. Do you want a wife who isn’t worried about her subjects being threatened?”
Maxon looked at me. “You’re worried. You’re just too smart to be worried the way everyone else is.” He shook his head and smiled. “I can’t believe you told them to fight.”
I shrugged. “It seems like we do a whole lot of cowering.”
“You’re absolutely right. And I don’t know if that will sca
re the rebels off or make them more determined, but there’s no doubt you changed the game.”
I cocked my head. “I don’t think I’d call a group of people trying to kill the population at random a game.”
“No, no!” he said quickly. “I can’t think of a word bad enough to call that. I meant the Selection.” I stared at him. “For better or worse, the public got a real glimpse into your character tonight. They can see the girl who drags her maids to safety, who stands up to kings if she thinks she’s right. I’ll bet everyone will look at you running after Marlee in an entirely different light now. Before this, you were just the girl who yelled at me when we met. Tonight, you became the girl who’s not afraid of the rebels. They’ll think of you differently now.”
I shook my head. “That’s not what I was trying to do.”
“I know. For all the planning I was doing to get you to show the people who you are, it turns out you just do it on an impulse. It’s so you.” There was a look of astonishment in his eyes, as if he should have been expecting this all along. “Anyway, I think it was the right thing to say. It’s about time we did more than hide.”
I looked down at my bedspread, tracing the seams with my finger. I was glad he approved, but the way he spoke—as if it was one more of my little quirks—felt too intimate at the moment.
“I’m tired of fighting with you, America,” he said quietly. I looked up and saw the sincerity in Maxon’s eyes as he continued. “I like that we disagree—it’s one of my favorite things about you, actually—but I don’t want to argue anymore. Sometimes I have a bit of my father’s temper. I fight it, but it’s there. And you!” he said with a laugh. “When you’re upset, you’re a force!”
He shook his head, probably remembering a dozen things at the same time I did. A knee to the groin, the whole thing with the castes, Celeste’s busted lip when she talked about Marlee. I’d never thought of myself as temperamental, but apparently I was. He smiled, and I did, too. It was kind of funny when I thought about all my actions piled up like that.
“I’m looking at the others, and I’m being fair. It makes me nervous to feel some of the things I do. But I want you to know, I’m still looking at you, too. I think you know by now I can’t help it.” He shrugged, seeming so boyish at that moment.
I wanted to say the right thing, to let him know that I still wanted him to look at me. But nothing felt right, so I slid my hand into his. We sat there quietly, looking at our hands. He toyed with my two bracelets, seeming very concerned with them, and spent a little while rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb. It was nice to have a still moment, just the two of us.
“Why don’t we spend the day together tomorrow?” he asked.
I smiled. “I’d like that.”
CHAPTER 10
“SO, LONG STORY SHORT: MORE GUARDS?”
“Yeah, Dad. Lots more.” I laughed into the phone, though the situation was hardly a funny one. But Dad had a way of making the toughest things light. “We’re all staying. For now anyway. And even though they say they’re starting with Twos, don’t let anyone be careless. Warn the Turners and the Canvasses to stay safe.”
“Aw, kitten, everyone knows to be careful. After what you said on the Report, I think people will be braver than you’d guess.”
“I hope so.” I looked down at my shoes and had a funny flashback. Right now my feet were covered with jeweled heels. Five months ago they were wearing dingy flats.
“You made me proud, America. Sometimes I’m surprised at the things you say, but I don’t know why. You were always stronger than you knew.”
Something about his voice then was so genuine that I was humbled. No one’s opinion of me mattered as much as his.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“I’m serious, now. Not every princess would say something like that.”
I rolled my eyes. “Uh, Dad, I’m not a princess.”
“Matter of time,” he shot back playfully. “Speaking of which, how is Maxon?”
“Good,” I said, fidgeting with my dress. The silence grew. “I really like him, Dad.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Why exactly?”
I thought for a minute. “I’m not really sure. But part of it is that he makes me feel like me, I think.”
“Did you ever feel like not you?” Dad joked.
“No, it’s like . . . I’ve always been aware of my number. Even when I came to the palace, I obsessed about it for a while. Was I a Five or a Three? Did I want to be a One? But now I’m not conscious of it at all. And I think it’s because of him.
“He screws up a lot, don’t get me wrong.” Dad chuckled. “But when I’m with him I feel like I’m America. I’m not a caste or a project. I don’t even think of him as elevated, really. He’s just him, and I’m just me.”
Dad was quiet for a moment. “That sounds really nice, kitten.”
Boy talk with my dad was a little awkward, but he was the only one back home who I thought saw Maxon more like a person than a celebrity; no one else would get it like he would.
“Yeah. It’s not perfect though,” I added as Silvia poked her head in the doorway. “I feel like there’s always something going wrong.”
She gave me a pointed look and mouthed Breakfast. I nodded.
“Well, that’s okay, too. Mistakes mean it’s real.”
“I’ll try to remember that. Listen, Dad, I’ve got to go. I’m late.”
“Can’t have that. Take care, kitten, and write your sister soon.”
“I will. Love you, Daddy.”
“Love you.”
As the girls exited after breakfast, Maxon and I lingered in the dining room. The queen passed, winking in my direction, and I felt my cheeks redden. But the king came along soon after, and the look in his eyes took away any lingering blush.
Once we were alone, Maxon walked over to me and laced his fingers through mine. “I’d ask what you want to do today, but our options are pretty limited. No archery, no hunting, no riding, no anything outside.”
I sighed. “Not even if we took a slew of guards?”
“I’m sorry, America.” He gave me a sad smile. “But what about a movie? We can watch something with spectacular scenery.”
“It’s not the same.” I pulled on his arm. “Come on. Let’s go make the best of it.”
“That’s the spirit,” he said. Something about that actually made me feel better, like we were in this together. It had been a while since it really felt that way.
We went into the hallway and were headed toward the stairway to the theater when I heard the musical clinks on the window.
I turned my head to the sound and gasped in wonder. “It’s raining.”
I let go of Maxon’s arm and pressed my hand against the glass. In the months I’d been at the palace, it had yet to rain, and I’d wondered if it ever would. Now that I could see it, I realized I missed it. I missed the ebb and flow of seasons, the way things changed.
“It’s so beautiful,” I whispered.
Maxon stood behind me, wrapping an arm around my waist. “Leave it to you to find beauty in something others would say ruins a day.”
“I wish I could touch it.”
He sighed. “I know you do, but it’s just not—”
I turned to Maxon, trying to see why he cut himself off. He looked up and down the hall, and I did the same. Besides a couple of guards, we were alone.
“Come on,” he said, grabbing my hand. “Let’s hope we’re not seen.”
I smiled, ready for whatever adventure he had in mind. I loved when Maxon was like this. We wound our way up the stairs, heading for the fourth floor. For a moment, I got nervous, worried he’d show me something similar to the hidden library. That hadn’t turned out so well for me.
We walked down to the middle of the floor, passing one guard on his rounds but no one else. Maxon pulled me into a large parlor and steered me to the wall next to a wide, dormant fireplace. He reached inside the lip o
f the fireplace and, sure enough, found a hidden latch. He pushed open a panel in the wall, and it led to yet another secret stairwell.
“Hold my hand,” he said, stretching his out to me. I did so, following him up the dimly lit steps until we came to a door. Maxon undid the simple lock, pulled open the door . . . and there was a wall of rain.
“The roof?” I asked over the sound.
He nodded. There were walls surrounding the entrance, leaving an open space about as large as my bedroom to walk on. It didn’t matter that all I could see were walls and sky. At least I was outside.
Positively beside myself, I stepped forward, reaching into the water. The drops were fat and warm as they collected on my arm and ran down to my dress. I heard Maxon laugh once before shoving me out into the downpour.
I gasped, soaked in seconds. Turning around, I grabbed his arm, and he smiled as he pretended to fight. His hair fell in strands around his eyes as we were both quickly drenched, and he was still grinning as he pulled me over to the edge of the wall.
“Look,” he said into my ear.
I turned, noticing our view for the first time. I stared in awe as the city spread out in front of me. The web of streets, the geometry of buildings, the array of colors—even dimmed in the gray hue of rain, it was breathtaking.
I found myself feeling attached to it all, as if it belonged to me somehow.
“I don’t want the rebels to take it, America,” he said over the rain, as if he was reading my mind. “I don’t know how bad the death toll is, but I can tell that my father is keeping it a secret from me. He’s afraid I’ll call off the Selection.”
“Is there a way to find out the truth?”
He debated. “I feel like, if I could get in touch with August, he’d know. I could get a letter to him, but I’m afraid of putting too much in writing. And I don’t know if I could get him into the palace.”
I considered that. “What if we could get to him?”
Maxon laughed. “How do you suggest we do that?”
I shrugged playfully. “I’ll work on it.”
He stared at me, quiet for a minute. “It’s nice to say things out loud. I’m always watching what I say. I feel like no one can hear me up here, I guess. Just you.”
