CHAPTER FOUR
I flip open my pocket watch and wince. I'm late! Damn! Even though I only think the curse, I glance around to make sure no Enforcers are around. I've never trusted that they can't read minds. Their uncanny ability to appear out of nowhere at the worst moments almost begs the fact that they can.
I pick up my pace. I don't run, per se, because it's frowned upon, but I'm as close to running as you can get without actually doing it. My fellow Citizens move out of the way when they see me, but it's not because they don't want to keep me from whatever I'm rushing to—or away from. It's because they don't want to be caught near me if an Enforcer sees me rushing.
I know, because I'd do the same.
As I pass the last booth in the Bazaar, I slow my pace. No matter how late I am, it’s not wise to run into the Palace Wing. There is entirely too much security blocking the tube between Sector Two and the Palace Wing, and any infraction, even one so minor as running, is a sure way to end up one of the missing.
The Guard standing at the podium merely glances at me before signaling me to go past him. Another reminder that I’ve come too far, worked too hard, to stop now. I walk quickly through the tube that separates the Palace Wing from Sector Two. Today the water outside the tube glows a brilliant blue and the fish are like jewels. It never fails to remind me how lucky we are to be living in such a beautiful place, even so dark as it is.
I hurry out of the tube and down the hallway to the elevator.
Inside I use the shiny metal walls to double-check my appearance to be sure my rush through Sector Two didn't wreak havoc on my hair or clothes. Mother expects a certain presentation and showing up even slightly disheveled would be akin to social suicide. After the exchange with Eli this morning, that’s the last thing I want to do. I'm pleased to see there's not so much as a speck of dust on me or a hair out of place.
As soon as the doors open, I rush out and follow the corridor to the sitting room where Mother hosts the tea parties for Evie—Miss Evelyn, I have to remind myself. She’s only Evie in private. I'm not exactly a fan of the tea parties, but if I want to continue to be one of Miss Evelyn's Suitors, I must continue to go to them and make a show of absolutely loving them.
Blech!
Miss Evelyn's voice drifts out through the open sitting room door and I smile; she's talking about how pretty the roses are now that they're in full bloom. Even though her voice is much more formal, and wispier, as if she really does want everyone to think of her as daft, her voice automatically makes my stomach tighten as it had yesterday evening. I have to admit that spending this time with her—even if it is horribly structured and chaperoned and completely unlike the secret, stolen times we have together—is worth any number of hours pretending to like lukewarm tea and chit-chatting about frivolous topics like what flowers are blooming in her gardens, who's Coupling with whom, and—Mother help me—her cross-stitching.
I make another adjustment to my clothes, swallow the lump in my throat, and step through the door.
As always, just seeing her makes me smile. She’s beautiful, with her soft honey-blond hair that never stays where she wants it to and her ice-blue eyes that have a way of warming when she's really smiling. Not that fake stuff she does when she's in Daughter of the People mode, but really, truly smiling.
It gives me a little thrill to think that I might be the only one who ever gets to see it.
Almost instantly I force the thoughts away, as I remember the Guards and Enforcer standing around the small room. They, of course, have noticed me immediately, and stand at attention. The Enforcer does nothing, but I can feel the distaste pouring from her. Now Miss Evelyn isn't the only reason for the nerves twisting in my stomach.
It makes me think of how easily Evie turns from the girl she was yesterday into Miss Evelyn, the girl she is now. Maybe Eli is right, after all.
Just as I think that, Miss Evelyn looks up from staring into her tea and her small fake smile blooms into that full-out grin, transforming her back into Evie. With just that one smile—the one reserved only for me—I know that Eli is wrong, and that if the roles were reversed, she would tell me. And that she’s just as human as we are. She feels like we do. Hurts like we do. Loves like we do. Loves me as I do her.
How else could just a smile from her light an entire room with its radiance and start a fire in my blood? My mind blanks and the apology sitting on the tip of my tongue swims right out of my head.
When another of her Suitors clears his throat, Evie blushes, and the pink tint sits prettily on her milky cheeks before she tones the smile down, transforming back into Miss Evelyn. She gestures to the empty seat I normally occupy.
“So good of you to join us.” No matter how composed and serene her posture and poise has become, the joy in her voice is obvious.
I bow slightly. “I apologize for my rudeness in being late, Miss Evelyn. I brushed against something on my way here and smeared grease on my pants. I would rather have been late, than to dishonor you by showing up in soiled clothing.”
Miss Evelyn's smile widens. “A perfectly reasonable excuse.” She gestures again to the empty seat. “Please. Join us.”
I take my seat, trying to keep my eye on the Enforcer without looking like I'm watching out for her. It is then that I realize, this week, I am one of four Suitors. A new adversary has entered the competition. I can’t help but wonder what danger this represents to my position.
My eyes do a quick study of this new rival. I am pleased to see that, in looks, at least, I believe I am victorious. I fit Mother's ideal better than this newcomer. He's built like a Guard. Big and bulky. His slightly droopy eyes are a watery blue. And his hair is a shade darker than my own.
Miss Evelyn must notice my appraisal, because she waves toward him and says, “This is a new Suitor. He's a Guard and Mother was quite insistent he join us this afternoon.”
So I was correct. Good. He won't be competition for me after all. My jealousy wanes as quickly as it came. I already know Evie’s feelings on Guards.
I incline my head toward him, forcing my smirk under a polite smile. “Nice to meet you.”
He repeats me, but I've already dismissed him in my mind.
Miss Evelyn goes back to talking about her gardens. For the next half an hour, the other Suitors and myself bide our time and wait for the hour to be up. It's awkward, being here, listening to her speak and ask questions of us, while we try to convince her that she should spend more time with one over the others. I've been here the longest, and I know how the game's played—even if lately, especially after last night, I don’t want to play it anymore.
When the clock in the corner chimes the hour, Miss Evelyn stands and all the Suitors rise as well, one-by-one going up to her to wish her a good day until the next time, each of us hoping that she'll chose one of us as her favored.
When everyone else has gone, and I'm the only Suitor left, I bow and wish her good day, but she doesn't return the greeting. Instead, she glances over to the Enforcer, then back at me.
Then she smiles that smile again, but her eyes reveal a worry I hadn't seen before. “I'm so glad you came today, Timothy. I was worried you'd decided not to be a Suitor anymore.”
The intimacy in her tone makes me lick my lips and look to the Enforcer to see if she's noticed it as well. But the girl is as expressionless as before. “No, Miss Evelyn. Of course not. I would never decide that.” I curse Eli and my own mom for their meddling this morning and for causing me to be late, and—I admit grudgingly—my hasty retreat last night.
Miss Evelyn grins at me and I can't help but return it as an irrational amount of relief and excitement buzzes through me when she says, “Excellent. Then I shall see you again?”
I know what she's really asking, and my heart skips. “Of course. As per usual,” I say, letting her know to meet me at our usual time and meeting place.
“Wonderful.” She smiles again.
“Until then, Miss Evelyn.”
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