The Elite

by Kiera Cass

  SOMETIMES I ALMOST HAVE TO LAUGH AT HOW SIMPLE THIS HAS BEEN. IF THERE WAS EVER A TEXTBOOK WRITTEN ON THE TOPIC OF OVERTHROWING COUNTRIES, I WOULD BE THE STAR OF IT. OR I COULD PROBABLY WRITE IT MYSELF. I’M NOT SURE WHAT I’D SAY STEP ONE WAS, AS YOU CAN’T REALLY FORCE ANOTHER COUNTRY TO TRY AND INVADE OR PUT IDIOTS IN CHARGE OF WHAT ALREADY EXISTS; BUT I CERTAINLY WOULD ENCOURAGE ANY OTHER WOULD-BE LEADERS TO ACQUIRE UNGODLY AMOUNTS OF MONEY BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY.

  A FASCINATION WITH MONEY WOULDN’T BE ENOUGH, HOWEVER. YOU MUST POSSESS IT AND BE IN A POSITION TO LORD IT OVER OTHERS. MY LACK OF BACKGROUND IN POLITICS HASN’T BEEN AN ISSUE IN GAINING ALLEGIANCE. IN FACT, I WOULD SAY AVOIDING THAT SECTOR ALTOGETHER MAY BE ONE OF MY GREATEST STRENGTHS. NO ONE TRUSTS POLITICIANS, AND WHY WOULD THEY? WALLIS HAS BEEN MAKING EMPTY PROMISES FOR YEARS IN THE HOPES THAT ONE OF THEM MIGHT COME THROUGH, AND THERE ISN’T A CHANCE IN HELL ANY OF THEM COULD. I, ON THE OTHER HAND, OFFER THE IDEA OF MORE. NO GUARANTEES, MERELY THAT FAINT GLIMMER OF OPTIMISM THAT CHANGE MIGHT COME. IT DOESN’T EVEN MATTER AT THIS POINT WHAT THE CHANGE MIGHT BE. THEY’RE SO DESPERATE, THEY DON’T CARE. THEY DON’T EVEN THINK TO ASK.

  PERHAPS THE KEY IS STAYING CALM WHILE OTHERS PANIC. WALLIS IS SO HATED NOW, HE’S ALL BUT HANDED THE PRESIDENCY OVER TO ME, AND NOT A SOUL IS COMPLAINING. I SAY NOTHING, DO NOTHING, AND WEAR A PLEASANT SMILE AS EVERYONE AROUND ME SINKS INTO HYSTERICS. ONE GLANCE AT THAT COWARD NEXT TO ME, AND THERE’S NO DENYING I LOOK BETTER AT A PODIUM OR SHAKING A PRIME MINISTER’S HAND. AND WALLIS IS SO DESPERATE TO HAVE SOMEONE THE PEOPLE LOVE ON HIS SIDE, I’M PRETTY SURE IT WILL ONLY TAKE TWO OR THREE INCONSPICUOUSLY WORDED DEALS TO HAVE ME RUNNING EVERYTHING.

  THIS COUNTRY IS MINE. I FEEL LIKE A BOY WITH A CHESS SET PLAYING A GAME HE KNOWS HE WILL WIN. I’M SMARTER, RICHER, AND FAR MORE QUALIFIED IN THE EYES OF A COUNTRY THAT ADORES ME FOR REASONS NO ONE CAN SEEM TO NAME. BY THE TIME SOMEONE THINKS TO CONSIDER IT, IT WON’T MATTER ANYMORE. I CAN DO WHAT I LIKE, AND THERE’S NO ONE LEFT TO STOP ME. SO WHAT’S NEXT?

  I FEEL IT’S TIME TO COLLAPSE THE SYSTEM. THIS PITIFUL REPUBLIC IS ALREADY IN SHAMBLES AND BARELY WORKS. THE REAL QUESTION IS, WHO DO I ALIGN MYSELF WITH? HOW DO I MAKE THIS SOMETHING THE PUBLIC BEGS FOR?

  I HAVE ONE IDEA. MY DAUGHTER WON’T LIKE IT, BUT I’M NOT REALLY CONCERNED WITH THAT. IT’S ABOUT TIME SHE MADE HERSELF USEFUL.

  I slammed the book shut, confused and frustrated. Was I missing something? Collapsing what system? Lording over people? Was the structure of our country not a necessity but a convenience?

  I considered hunting through the book for what happened to his daughter, but I was already so disoriented, I decided against it. Instead I went to the balcony, hoping some fresh air would help me wrap my mind around the words I’d just read.

  I looked to the sky, trying to process all this, but I didn’t even know where to start. I sighed, and my eyes wandered the gardens, stopping on a flicker of white. Maxon was walking alone on the grounds. He was finally home. His shirt was untucked, and he wasn’t wearing a coat or tie. What was he doing out so late? I saw that he was holding one of his cameras. He must have been having a rough night himself.

  I hesitated a moment, but who else could I talk to about this?

  “Pssst!”

  He jerked his head around, looking for the source. I did it again, waving my arms until he saw me. A surprised smile flashed across his face as he waved back. Hoping he’d be able to see it, I pulled on my ear. He did the same. I pointed to him, then to my room. He nodded, holding up a finger to tell me it’d be a minute. I nodded back and went inside as he did the same.

  I put on my robe and ran my fingers through my hair, wanting to look half as put together as he did. I wasn’t sure exactly how to talk about this, because I was essentially about to ask Maxon if he knew he was sitting on top of something that was much less altruistic than the public had been led to believe. Just as I was starting to wonder what was taking him so long, he knocked on the door.

  I rushed over to open it and was greeted by the lens of his camera. It clicked a still of my shocked smile. My expression dissolved into something that expressed how unamused I was by this little stunt, and he captured that, too, laughing.

  “You’re ridiculous. Get in here,” I ordered, grabbing him by the arm.

  He followed. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

  “You took your time,” I accused, settling on the edge of the bed. He came to sit beside me, far enough away that we could face each other.

  “I had to stop by my room.” He placed his camera safely on my bedside table, flicking at my jar with the penny in it. He made a sound that was almost a laugh and turned back to me, not explaining his detour.

  “Oh. So how was your trip?”

  “Odd,” he confessed. “We ended up going to the rural part of New Asia. Father said it was some local dispute; but by the time we got there, everything was fine.” He shook his head. “Honestly, it made no sense. We spent a few days walking through old cities and trying to speak to the natives. Father is quite disappointed with my grasp of the language and is insisting I study more. As if I’m not doing enough these days,” he said with a sigh.

  “That is kind of strange.”

  “I’m guessing it was some sort of test. He’s been throwing them at me randomly lately, and I don’t always know they’re happening. Maybe this was about decision making or dealing with the unexpected. I’m not sure.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Either way, I’m sure I failed.”

  He fidgeted with his hands for a minute. “He also really wanted to talk about the Selection. I think he felt like distance would do me good, give me perspective or something. Honestly, I’m tired of everyone else talking about a decision that I’m supposed to make.”

  I was sure the king’s idea of perspective meant getting me out of Maxon’s head. I’d seen the way he smiled at the other girls at meals or nodded to them in the hallways. He never did that to me. I felt instantly uncomfortable and didn’t know what to say.

  It appeared Maxon didn’t either.

  I decided I couldn’t ask him about the diary yet. He seemed so humble about these things—the way he led, the kind of king he wanted to be—that I couldn’t demand answers from him that I wasn’t anywhere close to sure he had. A tiny corner of my brain couldn’t shake the worry that he knew more than he’d ever shared, but I needed to know more myself before I spoke.

  Maxon cleared his throat and pulled a little string of beads out of his pocket.

  “As I said, we were walking through a bunch of towns, and I saw this in an old woman’s street shop. It’s blue,” he added, pointing out the obvious. “You seem to like blue.”

  “I love blue,” I whispered.

  I looked at the little bracelet. A few days ago, Maxon was walking on the other side of the world, and he saw this in a shop … and it made him think of me.

  “I didn’t find anything for anyone else, so maybe you could keep this between us?” I nodded my head in agreement. “You never were the type to brag,” he mumbled.

  I couldn’t stop staring at the bracelet. It was so understated, with polished stones that weren’t quite gems. I reached out and ran a finger over one of the oval-shaped beads, and Maxon wiggled the bracelet in his hand, which made me laugh.

  “Do you want me to put it on?” he offered.

  I nodded and stretched out the wrist that didn’t have Aspen’s button on it. Maxon placed the cool stones against my skin and tied the little ribbon that held them together.

  “Lovely,” he said.

  And there it was, pushing up through all the worries: hope.

  It lifted the heavy parts of my heart and made me miss him. I wanted to erase everything since Halloween, go back to that night, and hold on to those two people on the dance floor. And then, at the same time, it made my heart plummet. If we were back at Halloween, I wouldn’t have a reason to doubt this gift.

  Even if I let myself be everything my father said I was, everything Aspen said I wasn’t … I couldn’t be Kriss. K
riss was better.

  I was so tired and stressed and confused, I started crying.

  “America?” he asked hesitantly. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “What don’t you understand?” he asked quietly. I mentally noted that he was doing much better around crying girls these days.

  “You,” I admitted. “I’m just really confused about you right now.” I wiped away a tear on one side of my face, and, so gently, Maxon’s hand moved to wipe the tears on the other.

  In a way, it was strange to have him touch me like that again. At the same time, it was so familiar that it would have seemed wrong if he hadn’t. Once the tears were gone, he left his hand there, cupping my face.

  “America,” he said earnestly, “if you ever want to know anything about me—what matters to me or who I am—all you need to do is ask.”

  He looked so sincere that I nearly did ask. I almost begged him to tell me everything: if he’d always considered Kriss, if he knew about the diaries, what it was about this perfect little bracelet that made him think of me.

  But how did I know it would be the truth? And—because I was slowly realizing he was the steadier choice—what about Aspen?

  “I don’t know if I’m ready to do that yet.”

  After a moment of thought, Maxon looked at me. “I understand. I think I do anyway. But we should talk about some serious things very soon. And when you’re ready, I’m here.”

  He didn’t press me; instead he stood, giving me a small bow before grabbing his camera and making his way to the door. He looked back at me one last time before disappearing into the hall, and I was surprised by how much I ached to see him go.

  CHAPTER 25

  “PRIVATE LESSONS?” SILVIA ASKED. “As in, several a week?”

  “Absolutely,” I replied.

  For the first time since I arrived, I was truly grateful for Silvia. I knew that there was no way she’d be able to resist having someone willing to hang on her every word; and if she was making me do extra work, it meant I could keep myself busy.

  Thinking about Maxon and Aspen and the diary and the girls was too much right now. Protocol was black-and-white. The steps for proposing a law were orderly. These were things I could master.

  Silvia looked at me, still slightly stunned, before she broke into a huge smile. Embracing me, she cried out, “Oh, this will be wonderful. Finally one of you understands how important this is!” She held me at arm’s length. “When do you want to start?”

  “Now?”

  She was bursting with delight. “Let me go get some books.”

  I dove into her studies, so grateful for the words and facts and statistics she crammed into my head. If I wasn’t with Silvia, I was reading up on something she’d assigned me as I spent countless hours in the Women’s Room, all but tuning out the other girls.

  I worked, and I was excited about the next time the five of us had a joint class.

  When that time came, Silvia started by asking us what we were passionate about. I scribbled down my family, music, and then, as if the word demanded to be written, justice.

  “The reason I ask is because the queen is typically in charge of a committee of some kind, something that benefits the country. Queen Amberly, for example, began a program for training families to take care of their mentally and physically infirmed members. So many get deposited in the streets once the families can no longer deal with them, and the amount of Eights grows to an unmanageable number. The statistics over the last ten years have proven that her program has helped keep the numbers lower, thus keeping the general population safer.”

  “Are we supposed to come up with a program like that?” Elise asked, sounding nervous.

  “Yes, that will be your new project,” Silvia said. “On the Capital Report in two weeks’ time, you’ll be asked to present your idea and propose how you might start it.”

  Natalie made a little squeak of a sound, and Celeste rolled her eyes. Kriss looked like she was already dreaming something up. Her instant enthusiasm made me nervous.

  I remembered Maxon talking about an upcoming elimination. I felt like Kriss and I were at a slight advantage, but still.

  “Is this really helpful?” Celeste asked. “I’d rather learn about something we’ll actually use.”

  I could tell that beneath her concerned tone, she was either bored with this idea already or intimidated by it.

  Silvia looked appalled. “You will use this! Whoever becomes the new princess will be in charge of a philanthropy project.”

  Celeste muttered something under her breath and started fiddling with a pen. I hated that she wanted the position with none of the responsibility.

  I’d make a better princess than she would, I thought. And in that moment I realized there was some truth to that. I didn’t have her connections or Kriss’s poise, but at least I cared. And wasn’t that worth something?

  For the first time in a while, I felt a true shot of enthusiasm course through me. Here was a project that would allow me to show off the one thing that separated me from the others. I was determined to pour myself into this and hopefully produce something that might genuinely make a difference. Maybe I’d still lose in the long run; maybe I wouldn’t even want to win. But I would be as close to a princess as I possibly could, and I would make my peace with the Selection.

  It was hopeless. Try as I might, I couldn’t come up with a single idea for my philanthropy project. I thought and read and thought some more. I asked my maids, but they had no ideas. I would have sought out Aspen, but I hadn’t heard from him in days. I guessed he was being extracautious with Maxon home.

  What was worse was that Kriss was clearly deep into her presentation. She skipped hours of time in the Women’s Room to go read; and when she was present, she had her nose in a book or was scribbling notes furiously.

  Damn.

  When Friday came, I felt like dying as I suddenly realized I only had a week left and no prospects on the horizon. During the Report, Gavril set up the structure for the next show, explaining that there would be a few brief announcements and then the rest of the evening would be dedicated to our presentations.

  A light sweat broke out on my forehead.

  I caught Maxon looking at me. He reached up and tugged his ear, and I wasn’t sure what to do. I didn’t quite want to say yes, but I didn’t want to just brush him off. I pulled on my ear, and he looked relieved.

  I fidgeted while I waited for him to show up, twiddling the ends of my hair and pacing around my room.

  Maxon’s knock was brief before he let himself in the way he used to. I stood, feeling I needed to be a bit more formal than usual. I could tell that I was being ridiculous, but I felt completely unable to stop it at the same time.

  “How are you?” he asked, crossing the room.

  “Honestly? Nervous.”

  “It’s because I’m so good-looking, isn’t it?”

  I laughed at the sympathetic face he made. “I should avert my eyes,” I said, playing along. “Actually, it’s mostly about that philanthropy project.”

  “Oh,” he said, sitting at my table. “You could run your presentation by me if you like. Kriss did.”

  I felt deflated. Of course she was done. “I don’t even have an idea yet,” I confessed, sitting across from him.

  “Ah. Yes, I can see how that would be stressful.”

  I gave him a look as if to say he had no idea.

  “What’s important to you? There has to be something that really touches you that the others might miss.” Maxon leaned back in the chair comfortably, one hand on the table.

  How was he so at ease? Couldn’t he see how on edge I was?

  “I’ve been thinking all week, and nothing’s come to mind.”

  He laughed quietly. “I would have thought that you’d have the easiest time. You’ve seen more hardships in your life than the other four combined.”

  “Exactly, but I’ve never known how to change any of
it. That’s the problem.” I stared at the table, remembering Carolina with perfect clarity. “I can see it all … the Sevens who get injured doing their labor-heavy jobs and are suddenly downgraded to Eights because they can’t work anymore. The girls who walk the streets on the edge of curfew, wandering into the beds of lonely men for practically anything. The kids who never have enough—enough food, enough heat, enough love—because their parents are working themselves to death. I can remember my worst days like they’re nothing. But coming up with a feasible way to do anything about it?” I shook my head. “What could I possibly say?”

  I looked at him, hoping there was an answer in his eyes. There wasn’t.

  “You make an excellent point.” Then he was quiet.

  I thought over everything I said as well as his response. Did it mean that he knew more about Gregory’s plans than I thought? Or did it mean he felt guilty because he had so much when others had so little?

  He sighed. “This really wasn’t what I was hoping we’d talk about tonight.”

  “What did you have on your mind?”

  Maxon looked up at me as if I must be crazy. “You, of course.”

  I tucked my hair behind my ear. “What about me exactly?”

  He changed positions, angling his chair so we were a bit closer and leaning in as if this was a secret. “I thought that after you saw that Marlee was fine, things would change. I was sure you’d find a way to care about me again. But that hasn’t happened. Even tonight, you agreed to see me, but everything about you is standoffish.”

  So he did notice.

  I ran my fingers across the table, not looking him in the eyes. “It’s not exactly you I have a problem with. It’s the position.” I shrugged. “I thought you knew that.”

  “But after Marlee—”

  My head popped up. “After Marlee, things kept happening. I’ll have a grasp on what being a princess will mean one minute and lose it the next. I’m not like the other girls. I’m the lowest caste here; and Elise might have been a Four, but her family is way different from most Fours. They own so much, I’m surprised they haven’t bought their way up yet. And you were raised in this. It’s a serious change for me.”