The Selection Stories Collection (59 page)

We looked at one another. If I was the princess and something was happening where I needed a rational perspective, I’d call Elise first. If I was fighting with Maxon, Kriss would remind me of every good thing about him. And Celeste . . . well, I wasn’t so sure, but if anyone was ever going to tell me to toughen up about something, it would be her.

“So take your time,” she advised. “Adjust to where you are. And let it go. You don’t choose him; he chooses you. There’s no point in hating the others for that.”

“Do you know who he wants the most?” Celeste asked. And for the first time, I heard worry in her voice.

“I don’t,” Queen Amberly confessed. “Sometimes I think I could guess, but I don’t pretend to understand everything Maxon feels. I know who the king would choose, but that’s about it.”

“Who would you choose?” I asked, then cursed myself for being so blunt.

She smiled kindly. “I honestly haven’t let myself think about it. It would break my heart to start loving one of you like a daughter and then lose you. I couldn’t bear it.”

I lowered my eyes, not sure if those words were meant to be a comfort or not.

“I will say I’d be happy to have any of you in my family.” I looked up and watched as she took the time to meet each set of eyes. “For now, there’s work to do.”

We stood there silently, soaking in her wisdom. I’d never taken the time to look at the competitors in the last Selection, to find their pictures or anything. I knew a handful of names, mostly because older women would drop them into conversations when I sang at parties. It was never that important to me; we already had a queen, and even as a girl, the possibility of becoming a princess never crossed my mind. But now I wondered how many of the women who showed up to visit the queen or came for Halloween were her former competition, now her closest friends.

Celeste walked away first, heading back to the comfort of the couch. It didn’t seem as if Queen Amberly’s words meant much to her. For some reason that was the tipping point for me. Everything from the last few days crashed back onto my heart, and I could feel it was seconds away from cracking.

I curtsied. “Excuse me, please,” I mumbled, before moving swiftly to the door. I didn’t have a plan. Maybe I could go sit in the bathroom for a minute or tuck myself away in one of the numerous parlors downstairs. Maybe I would just go to my room and cry my eyes out.

Unfortunately, it looked like the universe was plotting against me. Just outside the Women’s Room, Maxon was pacing back and forth, looking as if he was trying to solve a riddle. Before I could hide somewhere, he saw me.

Of everything I wanted to do right now, this was the last thing on my list.

“I was debating asking you to come out,” he said.

“What do you need?” I answered shortly.

Maxon stood there, still working up the nerve to say something that was obviously driving him crazy. “So there’s one girl who loves me beyond reason?”

I crossed my arms. After the last few days, I should have seen his change of heart coming. “Yes.”

“Not two?”

I looked up at him, almost irritated that he needed me to explain.
Don’t you already know how I feel?
I wanted to scream.
Don’t you remember the safe room?

But, honestly, I needed some confirmation right now, too. What had happened to make me so unsure so quickly?

The king. His insinuations about what the other girls had done, his praise of their merits made me feel small. And it was compounded by all my missteps with Maxon this week. The only way we would have ever been brought together was because of the Selection; but it seemed that as long as it went on, there was no way for anything to feel certain.

“You told me you didn’t trust me,” I accused. “The other day you made a point of humiliating me, and yesterday you basically said I was an embarrassment. And not a few hours ago, the suggestion of marrying me sent you into a rage. Forgive me for not feeling so secure in our relationship right now.”

“You forget that I’ve never done this, America,” he said passionately, but without any anger. “You have someone to compare me to. I don’t even know how to have a typical relationship, and I only get one chance. You’ve had at least two. I’m going to make mistakes.”

“I don’t mind mistakes,” I shot back. “I mind the uncertainty. Most of the time I can’t tell what’s going on.”

He was quiet for a moment, and I realized that we’d come to a very serious crossroad. We’d implied so many things, but we couldn’t go on like this for much longer. Even if we ended up together, these moments of insecurity would haunt us.

“We keep doing this,” I breathed, exhausted with this game. “We get close and then something happens and it falls apart, and you never seem to be able to make a decision. If you want me as much as you’ve always claimed to, why isn’t this over?”

Even though I’d accused him of not caring about me at all, his frustration melted into sadness. “Because half the time I’ve been sure you loved someone else and the other half I’ve doubted you could love me at all,” he answered, making me feel positively awful.

“Like I haven’t had my own reasons to doubt? You treat Kriss like she’s heaven on earth, and then I catch you with Celeste—”

“I explained that.”

“Yes, but it still hurt to see.”

“Well, it hurts me to see how quickly you shut down. Where does that even come from?”

“I don’t know, but maybe you should stop thinking about me for a while.”

The silence was abrupt.

“What does that mean?”

I shrugged. “There are three other girls here. If you’re so worried about your one shot, you might want to make sure you’re not wasting it on me.”

I walked away, angry with Maxon for making me feel this way . . . and angry with myself for making things so much worse.

I
WATCHED AS THE PALACE
was transformed. Almost overnight, lush Christmas trees lined the hallways of the first floor, garlands were strung down the stairways, and all the floral arrangements were changed to include holly or mistletoe. The strange thing was, if I opened my window, it still felt like the edge of summer outside. I wondered if the palace could somehow manufacture snow. Maybe if I asked Maxon, he’d look into it.

Then again, maybe not.

Days passed. I tried not to be upset that Maxon was doing exactly what I’d asked, but as the space between us grew icy, I regretted my pride. I wondered if this was always bound to happen. Was I destined to say the wrong thing, make the wrong choice? Even if Maxon was what I wanted, I was never going to get myself together long enough for it to be real.

The whole thing just felt tired; it was the same problem I’d been facing since Aspen walked through the doorway of the palace. And I ached from it, from feeling so torn, so confused.

I’d taken to walking around the palace during the afternoons. With the gardens off-limits, the Women’s Room day after day was too confining.

It was while I was walking that I felt the shift. As if some unseen trigger had set off everyone in the palace. The guards stood a bit stiller, and the maids walked a bit faster. Even I felt strange, like I wasn’t quite so welcome here as I was only moments ago. Before I knew what it was I was feeling, the king rounded the corner, a small entourage behind him.

Then it all made perfect sense. His absence made the palace warmer, and now that he was home, we were all subject to his whims again. No wonder the Northern rebels were excited about Maxon.

I curtsied as the king approached. While he walked, he put up a hand, and the men behind him paused as he came close, leaving us with a small bubble of space in which to speak.

“Lady America. I see you’re still here,” he said, his smile and his words at odds with each other.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“And how have you been in my absence?”

I smiled. “Silent.”

“That’s a good girl.” He started to walk away but then remembered something and came back. “It was brought to my attention that of the girls left, you’re the only one still receiving money for your participation. Elise gave hers up voluntarily almost immediately after the payments were stopped for the Twos and Threes.”

That didn’t surprise me. Elise was a Four, but her family owned high-end hotels. They weren’t hurting for money the way the shopkeepers back in Carolina were.

“I think that should end,” he announced, snapping me back into the moment.

My face fell.

“Unless, of course, you’re here for a payout and not because you love my son.” His eyes burned into me, daring me to challenge his decision.

“You’re right,” I said, hating the way the words felt in my mouth. “It’s only fair.”

I could see he was disappointed not to get more of a fight. “I’ll see to it immediately.”

He walked away, and I stood there, trying not to feel sorry for myself. Really, it was fair. How did it look that I was the only one getting checks? It would all end eventually anyway. Sighing, I headed toward my room. The least I could do was write home and warn them that the money wouldn’t be coming anymore.

I opened my door, and, for the first time, I was completely ignored by my maids. Anne, Mary, and Lucy were in the back corner, hovering over a dress that they appeared to be working on, bickering about their progress.

“Lucy, you said you were going to finish this hem last night,” Anne said. “You left early to do it.”

“I know, I know. I got sidetracked. I can do it now.” Her eyes were pleading. Lucy was already a bit sensitive, and I knew Anne’s rigid manner sometimes got to her.

“You’ve been getting sidetracked an awful lot these last few days,” Anne commented.

Mary held out her hands. “Calm down. Give me the dress before you mess it up.”

“I’m sorry,” Lucy said. “Just let me take it now, and I’ll get it done.”

“What’s going on with you?” Anne demanded. “You’ve been acting so funny.”

Lucy looked up at her, eyes frozen. Whatever her secret was, she looked terrified to share it.

I cleared my throat.

They whipped their heads in my direction, all curtsying in turn.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” I said as I walked toward them, “but I highly doubt the queen’s maids argue like that. Besides, we’re wasting time if there’s work to be done.”

Anne, still angry, pointed her finger at Lucy. “But she—”

I silenced her with a small gesture of my hand, a bit surprised that it worked so easily.

“No arguing. Lucy, why don’t you take that down to the workroom to finish, and we can all get some room to think.”

Lucy happily scooped up the fabric, so grateful for the means to escape that she practically ran from the room. Anne watched her go, a full pout on her face. Mary looked worried but dutifully went to work without another word.

It took all of two minutes for me to realize that the mood in my room was too dreary for me to focus. I grabbed some paper and a pen and headed back downstairs. I wondered if I’d done the right thing, sparing Lucy. Maybe they’d all be fine if I’d let them air out whatever was happening. Perhaps my meddling would shake their resolve in helping me. I’d never really bossed them around like that before.

I paused outside the Women’s Room. That didn’t feel like the right place either. I moved down the main hallway, finding a little nook with a bench. That seemed nice. I ran into the library and picked up a book to lean on and went back to the nook, finding myself practically hidden by the large plant beside the bench. The wide window looked into the garden, and, for a minute, the palace didn’t seem so small. I watched birds fly outside the window and tried to form the kindest way to tell my parents there wouldn’t be any more checks.

“Maxon, can’t we go on a real date? Somewhere outside the palace?” I recognized Kriss’s voice immediately. Hmm. The Women’s Room might not have been so full after all.

I could hear the smile in his voice as he answered. “I wish we could, sweetheart, but even if things were calm, that would be difficult.”

“I want to see you somewhere where you’re not the prince,” she whined lovingly.

“Ah, but I’m the prince everywhere.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do. I’m sorry I can’t give that to you, really. I think it would be nice to see you somewhere where you weren’t an Elite. But this is the life I live.”

His voice grew a little sad.

“Would you regret it?” he asked. “For the rest of your life, it would be like this. Beautiful walls, but walls all the same. My mother scarcely leaves the palace more than once or twice a year.” Through the thick leaves of the planted shrub, I watched as they passed me, completely unaware. “And if you think the public is intrusive now, it would be much worse when you’re the only girl they’re watching. I know your feelings for me run deep. I feel it every day. But what about the life that comes along with me? Do you want that?”

It seemed as if they’d stopped somewhere in the hallway, as Maxon’s voice wasn’t fading.

“Maxon Schreave,” Kriss started, “you make it sound like it’s a sacrifice for me to be here. Each day I’m
thankful
for being chosen. Sometimes I try to imagine what it would have been like if we’d never met. . . . I’d rather lose you now than have gone a lifetime without this.”

Her voice was getting thick. I didn’t think she was crying, but she was close.

“I need you to know I’d want you without the beautiful clothes and the gorgeous rooms. I’d want you without the crown, Maxon. I just want you.”

Maxon was momentarily speechless, and I could imagine him holding her close or wiping away the tears that might have come by now.

“I can’t tell you what it means to me to hear that. I’ve been dying for someone to tell me that I was what mattered,” he confessed quietly.

“You are, Maxon.”

There was another quiet moment between them.

“Maxon?”

“Yes?”

“I . . . I don’t think I want to wait anymore.”

Even though I knew I’d regret it, at those words I silently put down my paper and pen, slipped off my shoes, and scurried to the end of the hall. I peeked around and saw the back of Maxon’s head as Kriss’s hand slid just barely into the neck of his suit. Her hair fell to the side as they kissed, and, for her first, it seemed like it was going really well. Better than Maxon’s, that was for sure.