The Selection Stories Collection (43 page)

M
Y MAIDS WERE GIFTS
. T
HEY
didn’t ask about the puffy eyes or the tear-stained pillows. They merely helped me pull myself together. I allowed myself to be pampered, grateful for the attention. They were wonderful to me. Would they be this nice to Kriss if she managed to win and took them away?

I watched them as I debated, and I was surprised to notice a tension among them. Mary seemed mostly fine, maybe a little worried. But Anne and Lucy looked like they were deliberately avoiding eye contact with each other and not speaking unless they absolutely had to.

I couldn’t begin to guess at what was happening, and I didn’t know if it was my place to ask. They never intruded on my sadness or anger. I supposed it was only right that I do the same for them.

I tried not to let the silence bother me as they did my hair and dressed me for a long day in the Women’s Room. I ached to put on one of the luxurious pants that Maxon had given me for Saturday use, but this seemed like a bad time for that. If I was heading down, I wanted to be a lady about it. Points to me for effort.

As I settled in for another day of tea and books, the others chatted about the night before. Well, all of them except for Celeste, who had more gossip magazines waiting to be read. I wondered if the one in her hands said anything about me.

I was debating trying to take it when Silvia came in with a thick pile of paper in her arms. Great. More work.

“Good morning, ladies!” Silvia crooned. “I know you usually wait for guests on Saturdays, but today the queen and I have a special assignment for you.”

“Yes,” the queen said, walking over to us. “I know this is short notice, but we have visitors coming next week. They will be touring the country and stopping by the palace to meet all of you.”

“As you know, the queen is usually in charge of receiving such important guests. You all saw how she graciously hosted our friends from Swendway.” Silvia gestured over to Queen Amberly, who smiled demurely.

“However, the visitors we have coming from the German Federation and Italy are even more important than the Swendish royal family. And we thought this visit would be an excellent exercise for you all, especially since we’ve been so focused on diplomacy lately. You will work in teams to prepare a reception for your respective guests, including a meal, entertainment, and gifts,” Silvia explained.

I gulped as she continued.

“It is very important for us to maintain the relationships we have as well as to forge new ones with other countries. We have outlines of proper etiquette for interacting with these guests, as well as guides for what’s typically frowned on when hosting events for them. However, the actual execution is in your hands.”

“We wanted to make it as fair as possible,” the queen said. “I think we’ve done a good job of putting you all on the same field. Celeste, Natalie, and Elise, you will be organizing one reception. Kriss and America, you will take care of the other. And since you have one less person, you will have one more day. Our visitors from the German Federation will be coming on Wednesday, and we’ll be receiving guests from Italy on Thursday.”

There was a short moment of silence as we took that in.

“You mean we have four days?” Celeste screeched.

“Yes,” Silvia said. “But a queen has to do this work alone and sometimes on far less notice.”

The panic was palpable.

“Can we have our papers, please?” Kriss asked, holding out her hand. Instinctively, I put mine out as well. Within seconds we were devouring the pages.

“This is going to be tough,” Kriss said. “Even with the extra day.”

“Don’t worry,” I assured her. “We’re going to win.”

She laughed nervously. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because,” I said decisively, “there’s no way I’m letting Celeste do better than me.”

It took two hours to read through the packet and one more to digest everything it said. There were so many different things to consider, so many details to plan. Silvia claimed she would be at our disposal, but I had a feeling asking for help would make her think we couldn’t do a good enough job on our own, so that was out.

The setup was going to be challenging. We weren’t allowed to use red flowers because they were associated with secrecy. We weren’t allowed to use yellow flowers because they were associated with jealousy. And we weren’t allowed to use purple
anything
because that color was associated with bad luck.

The wine, food, everything had to be opulent. Luxury wasn’t seen as showing off; it was meant to make a statement about the palace. If it wasn’t good enough, our guests might leave unimpressed and completely unwilling to meet with us again. On top of all that, the regular things we were supposed to have learned—speaking clearly, proper table manners, and the like—had to be adapted to a culture of which neither Kriss nor I had any knowledge besides what was printed in our packets.

It was incredibly intimidating.

Kriss and I spent the day taking notes and brainstorming while the others did the same thing at a nearby table. As the afternoon wore on, our groups started complaining back and forth about who had the worse situation, and after a while it was actually kind of funny.

“You two at least get another day to work,” Elise said.

“But Illéa and the German Federation are already allies. The Italians might hate everything we do!” Kriss worried.

“Do you know we’re supposed to wear dark colors for ours?” Celeste complained. “It’s going to be a very … rigid event.”

“We probably don’t want it to be floppy anyway,” Natalie said, doing a little shimmy. She laughed at her own joke, and I smiled before moving on.

“Well, ours is supposed to be superfestive. And you all have to wear your best jewelry,” I instructed. “You need to make a great first impression, and appearances are very important.”

“Thank goodness I’ll get to look good at one of these stupid things.” Celeste sighed, shaking her head.

In the end, it was clear we were all struggling. After everything that had happened with Marlee and then being somewhat dismissed by the king, I felt strangely comforted to know we were miserable together. But it would be a lie to say that paranoia didn’t take over before the end of the day. I was convinced that one of the other girls—Celeste in particular—might try to sabotage our reception.

“How loyal are your maids?” I asked Kriss at dinner.

“Very. Why?”

“I wonder whether we should store some things in our rooms instead of in the parlor. You know, so the other girls don’t try to take our ideas.” It was only a tiny lie.

She nodded. “That’s a good idea. Especially since we go second, and it would look like we copied them.”

“Exactly.”

“You’re so smart, America. It’s no wonder Maxon liked you so much.” And she went back to eating.

I didn’t miss her casual use of the past tense. Maybe while I’d been worrying about being good enough to be a princess and feeling completely unsure I wanted to be one at the same time, Maxon was forgetting all about me.

I convinced myself that she was just trying to make herself feel more confident about her standing with Maxon. Besides, it had only been a few days since Marlee was caned. How much could she possibly know?

The piercing scream of a siren jerked me from my sleep. The sound was so foreign, I couldn’t even begin to process what it was. All I knew was that my heart was pounding in my chest from the sudden rush of adrenaline.

Before a second had passed, the door to my room flew open and a guard ran in.

“Damn it, damn it, damn it,” he repeated.

“Huh?” I said groggily as he raced over to me.

“Get up, Mer!” he urged, and I did as he said. “Where are your damn shoes?”

Shoes. So I was going somewhere. Only then did the sound make sense to me. Maxon had told me once before that there was an alarm for when the rebels came, but it had been thoroughly dismantled in a recent attack. It finally must have been repaired.

“Here,” I said, finding and slipping my feet into them. “I need my robe.” I pointed to the end of the bed, and Aspen grabbed it, trying to open it for me. “Don’t bother, I’ll carry it.”

“You need to hurry,” he said. “I don’t know how close they are.”

I nodded, heading for the door, Aspen’s hand on my back. Before I hit the hallway, he jerked me toward him. I found myself in a deep, rough kiss. Aspen’s hand was behind my head, holding my lips to his for one long moment. Then, as if he forgot the danger, his other hand pulled my waist to his, and the kiss deepened. It had been a long time since he’d kissed me this way—between my fickle heart and the fear of being caught, there was no reason to. But I could feel an urgency tonight. Something might go wrong, and this could be our last kiss.

He wanted to make it count.

We stepped apart, barely taking a second to look at each other one more time. He put his hand around my arm and pushed me out the door. “Go. Now.”

I dashed for the secret passage hidden at the end of the hall. Before I pushed the wall, I looked behind me and caught sight of Aspen’s back as he ran around the corner.

There was nothing I could do but run myself, so I did. As quickly as I could manage, I made my way down the steep, dark stairs to the safe room reserved for the royal family.

Maxon had told me once that there were two kinds of rebels: Northern and Southern. The Northern ones were pesky, but the Southern ones were deadly. I hoped whatever I was running from was more interested in disturbing us than in killing.

As I descended the stairs, the cold set in. I wanted to throw on my robe, but I worried I might trip. I felt steadier as the light of the safe room came into view. I leaped from the last step, and I could see a figure standing out among the shapes of the guards. Maxon. Though it was late, he was still in his suit pants and his shirt, slightly rumpled but presentable.

“Am I the last?” I asked, pulling on my robe as I approached.

“No,” he answered. “Kriss is still out there. So is Elise.”

I looked behind me at the darkened corridor that seemed to go on forever. In either direction, I could make out the skeletons of three or four stairways stemming from their secret origins in the palace above. They were empty.

If anything Maxon had told me was true, his feelings for Kriss and Elise were limited. But there was no mistaking the concern for them in his eyes. He rubbed his temple and craned his neck, as if that would really help in the dark. We looked past each other, watching the stairs as guards milled around the door, clearly anxious to close it.

Suddenly he sighed and put his hands on his hips. Then, with no warning at all, he embraced me. I couldn’t help but clutch him to my chest.

“I know you’re still probably upset, and that’s fine. But I’m happy you’re safe.”

Maxon hadn’t touched me since Halloween. It hadn’t even been a week, but for some reason, it felt like an eternity. Maybe because so much had happened that night, and even more had happened since.

“I’m glad you’re safe, too.”

He held me tighter. Suddenly he gasped. “Elise.”

I turned to see her thin figure coming down the stairs. Where was Kriss?

“You should go inside,” Maxon gently urged. “Silvia is waiting.”

“We’ll talk soon.”

He gave me a small, hopeful smile and nodded. I headed into the room, with Elise following right behind. As she walked in, I saw she was crying. I put an arm around her shoulder, and she did the same to me, happy to have the company.

“Where were you?” I asked.

“I think my maid is sick. She was a little slow to help me. And then I was so frightened by the alarm, I got confused for a moment and couldn’t remember where to go. I pushed on four different walls before I found the right one.” Elise shook her head at her forgetfulness.

“Don’t worry,” I said, hugging her. “You’re safe now.”

She nodded her head to herself, trying to slow her breathing. Of the five of us, she was easily the most delicate.

As we went deeper, I saw the king and queen sitting close together, both of them in robes and slippers. The king had a small stack of papers on his lap, as if he was going to use the time down here to work. The queen had a maid massaging one of her hands, and they both wore serious expressions.

“What, no company this time?” Silvia joked, drawing our attention to her.

“They weren’t with me,” I said, suddenly worried about the safety of my maids.

She smiled gently. “I’m sure they’re fine. This way.”

We followed her to a row of cots set up against an uneven wall. The last time I was in this place, it was clear that the people who maintained the room weren’t prepared for the chaos of all the Selected girls down here. They’d made progress since then, but it wasn’t completely up-to-date. There were six beds.

Celeste was curled up on the one closest to the king and queen, though we were still quite a ways from them. Natalie had settled in next to her and was braiding thin pieces of her own hair.

“I expect you to sleep. You all have a serious week ahead of you, and I can’t have you planning if you’re deliriously tired.” Silvia went away, probably to look for Kriss.

Elise and I both sighed. I couldn’t believe they were going to make us go through with the whole reception thing. Wasn’t this stressful enough? We let go of each other and made our way to neighboring cots. Elise was quick to tuck herself into the blankets, obviously worn out.

“Elise?” I said quietly. She peeked up at me. “If you need anything, let me know, okay?”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

“Sure thing.”

She rolled back over, and it looked like she was asleep within seconds. I knew it was true when she didn’t turn over at the bustle of noise coming from the door. I glanced back and saw Maxon carrying Kriss into the safe room, with Silvia close by. Immediately after she was through, the door was sealed shut.

“I tripped,” she explained to Silvia, who was fretting over her. “I don’t think I broke my ankle, but it really hurts.”

“There are bandages in the back. We can at least wrap it,” Maxon instructed. Silvia walked away quickly, passing us as she went hunting for bandages.