The Selection Stories Collection (66 page)

Maybe I was being paranoid, but it felt as if this task specifically targeted me. The king must be searching for ways to remind everyone I was useless.

“Who are you picking, Celeste?” Kriss asked.

She shrugged. “Not sure yet. But I promise they’ll be spectacular.”

If I had Celeste’s list of friends at my disposal, I wouldn’t be nervous either. Who was I going to invite? My mom?

Celeste turned to me, her voice warm. “Who do you think you’ll bring, America?”

I tried to hide my shock. Even though we’d had a little breakthrough in the library, this was the first time she’d addressed me the same way she would a friend. I cleared my throat. “I have no idea. I’m not sure I know anyone who would be appropriate to invite. It might be better if I bring no one.” I probably shouldn’t have been so open about how disadvantaged I was, but it wasn’t as if the others weren’t aware.

“Well, if you really can’t find anyone, let me know,” Celeste said. “I’m positive I have more than two friends who would like to visit the palace, and I could make sure you at least have an idea of who they are. If you want to, that is.”

I stared at her, tempted to ask her what the catch was; but, looking into her eyes, I didn’t think there was one. Then I was sure of it when she winked at me with the eye that Elise and Kriss couldn’t see. Celeste, the consummate fighter, was pulling for me.

“Thank you,” I said, feeling truly humbled.

She shrugged. “No problem. If we’re going to have a party, might as well make it a good one.” She leaned back in her chair, smiling to herself, and I was sure she was picturing this event as her last hurrah. Part of me wanted to tell her not to give up, but I couldn’t. Only one of us could have Maxon in the end.

By the afternoon, I had the rough outline of a plan, but it was dependent upon one big thing: I’d have to get Maxon’s help.

I was sure we would find each other before the end of the day, so I didn’t let myself worry about it too much. For the time being, I needed to rest again, so I headed back up to my room.

Anne was there, waiting with more pills and water. I couldn’t believe how calm she was about it all.

“I owe you one,” I said, downing the medicine.

“No,” Anne protested.

“Yes! Things would have been a lot different last night if you hadn’t been there.”

She gently took the glass from me. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

She started walking to the bathroom to dispose of the water, and I followed her. “Isn’t there anything I could do for you? Anything at all?”

She stood there at the counter, something clearly on her mind.

“Really, Anne. It would make me so happy.”

She sighed. “Well, there’s one thing. . . .”

“Please tell me.”

Anne raised her eyes from the sink. “But you couldn’t let it slip to anyone. Mary and Lucy would never let me live it down.”

I creased my forehead. “What do you mean?”

“It’s . . . it’s very personal.” She started fidgeting with her hands, something she never did, and I knew this was important to her.

“Okay, come talk to me about it,” I encouraged, wrapping my good arm around her shoulder and ushering her to the table to sit with me.

She crossed her ankles and put her hands in her lap. “See, it’s just that you get along with him so well. He seems to think so highly of you.”

“You mean Maxon?”

“No,” she whispered, a wild blush filling her cheeks.

“I don’t understand.”

She took a deep breath. “Officer Leger.”

“Ooooh,” I said, more shocked than I could express.

“You think it’s hopeless, don’t you?”

“Not hopeless,” I insisted. I just didn’t know how to tell the person who’d promised he’d always fight for me that he should pursue her instead.

“He’s always speaking so kindly of you. I know if you maybe mentioned me to him, or could even find out if he’s got a girlfriend at home . . .”

I sighed. “I can try, but I can’t promise anything.”

“Oh, I know. Don’t worry. I’ve been telling myself it won’t happen, but I can’t stop thinking about him.”

I tilted my head. “I know how that is.”

She put a hand in front of her. “And it’s not because he’s a Two. If he was an Eight, I’d want someone like him.”

“Lots of people would,” I said. And that was true. Celeste noticed him, Kriss said he was funny, and even that Delilah woman sounded like she had a crush on him. That wasn’t even taking into account all the girls back home who’d chased him. Hearing things like that didn’t bother me so much anymore, not even from someone as close to me as Anne.

It was one more thing that made me sure that my feelings for Aspen were gone. If I was happy to suggest that someone else should take my place, then I really didn’t belong with him.

Still, I wasn’t sure how to broach the subject.

I reached over the polished wood and put my hand on hers. “I’ll try, Anne. I swear.”

She smiled but bit her lip anxiously. “Just please don’t tell the others.”

I held her hand tighter. “You’ve always kept my secrets. I’ll always keep yours.”

I
T WAS ONLY A FEW
hours later when Aspen knocked on my door. My maids merely curtsied and exited, knowing without instruction that whatever we would say needed to be private.

“How are you feeling?”

“Not too bad,” I said. “My arm throbs a bit and I have a headache, but otherwise I’m fine.”

He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have let you go.”

I patted the space beside me on the bed. “Come sit.”

He hesitated a bit. In my mind now, he was past suspicion. Maxon and my maids knew we communicated, and he’d led us out of the palace last night. Where was the risk? He must have thought the same thing, because he finally sat, choosing to keep a respectable distance just in case.

“I’m a part of this, Aspen. I couldn’t have stayed behind. And there’s nothing wrong with me. I honestly owe that to you. You saved me last night.”

“If I hadn’t been fast enough, or if Maxon hadn’t gotten you over that wall, you’d be a prisoner somewhere right now. I almost let you die. I almost let
Maxon
die.” He shook his head at the floor. “Do you know what would have happened to Avery and me if you two hadn’t made it back? Do you know what—” He paused, seeming to hold back tears. “Do you know what would have happened to me if we hadn’t found you?”

Aspen looked at me, into me. The pain in his eyes was clear.

“But you did. You found me, you protected me, and you got me help. You were amazing.” I put my hand on Aspen’s back, running it up and down, trying to comfort him.

“I’m just realizing, Mer, that no matter what happens . . . there will always be a string tying you to me. I’ll never not worry about you. I’ll never not care about what you do. You’ll always be something to me.”

I took my hand and laced it through his arm, resting my head on his shoulder. “I know what you mean.”

We stayed like that for a while, and I guessed that maybe Aspen was doing the same thing I was: replaying everything in his head. The way we avoided each other as children, the way we couldn’t stop looking at each other when we were older, a thousand stolen moments in the tree house—all the things that made us who we were.

“America, I need to say something.” I lifted my head, and Aspen turned to face me, holding me gently by my arms. “When I told you that I would always love you, I meant it. And I . . . I . . .”

He couldn’t manage to get the words out, and to be honest, I was grateful. Yes, I was tied to him, but we weren’t that couple in the tree house anymore.

He gave a weak laugh. “I guess I need some sleep. I can’t think straight.”

“You and me both. And there’s so much to think about.”

He nodded. “Look, Mer, we can’t do that again. Don’t tell Maxon I’ll help him with something so risky, and don’t expect me to sneak you anywhere.”

“I’m not sure it was worth it anyway. I can’t imagine Maxon would want to go again.”

“Good.” He stood, then picked up my hand and kissed it. “My lady,” he said, his voice teasing.

I smiled and squeezed his hand a little. And he did the same back. As we held hands, my grip tightening more every second, I realized that soon I’d need to let go. I’d need to really let go.

I looked into Aspen’s eyes, and I could feel the tears threatening to come.
How do I say good-bye to you?

He ran his thumb over the back of my hand and placed it on my lap. He bent and kissed my hair. “Take it easy. I’ll come check on you tomorrow.”

After a quick tug of my ear at dinner, Maxon knew I would be waiting for him tonight. I sat in front of my mirror, wishing the minutes would move faster. Mary brushed the length of my hair, calmly humming to herself. I vaguely recognized the tune as something I once played at someone’s wedding. When I’d gotten chosen for the Selection, I’d wanted so badly to find my way back to that life. I wanted a world full of the music I’d always loved.

But, truly, that was never something I could have held on to. No matter which path I took in life now, music might only be something I pulled out at parties to entertain a guest or a way I relaxed on a weekend.

I looked at myself in the mirror and realized I wasn’t bitter about that, not like I thought I’d be. I’d miss it, but it was just a piece of who I was now, not
everything
I was. There were possibilities in front of me no matter how the Selection unfolded.

I really was more than my caste.

Maxon’s light knock pulled me from my thoughts, and Mary answered the door.

“Good evening,” Maxon said to Mary as he entered, and she curtsied in response.

His eyes met mine briefly, and I wondered again if he could see how I felt about him, if it was as real to him as it was to me.

“Your Majesty,” Mary greeted quietly. She was about to leave the room when Maxon held up a hand.

“Forgive me, but could you tell me your name?”

She stared at him for a moment, looked to me, and then focused on Maxon again. “I’m Mary, Your Majesty.”

“Mary. And Anne, we met last night.” He gave her a small bow of his head. “And you?”

“Lucy.” Her voice was small, but I could sense her joy in being acknowledged.

“Excellent. Anne, Mary, and Lucy. Lovely to properly meet you. I’m sure Anne has filled you both in on last night so you can serve Lady America the best way possible. I want to thank you for your dedication and discretion.”

His eyes fell on each of them in turn. “I realize I’ve put you in a compromising position, and if anyone ever raises questions about what happened, feel free to send them directly to me. It was my decision, and you shouldn’t be held responsible for any consequences that follow because of that.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Lucy said.

I’d always sensed that my maids had a deep devotion to Maxon, but tonight I felt like it went beyond the typical obligation. It seemed to me in the past as if the highest level of loyalty was to the king, but now I wondered if that was true. More and more, I saw little things that made me think people preferred his son.

Maybe I wasn’t the only one who saw King Clarkson’s methods as barbaric, his way of thinking cruel. Maybe the rebels weren’t the only ones ready for Maxon. Perhaps there were others out there who were looking for more.

My maids curtsied and left, leaving Maxon standing beside me.

“What was that about? Learning their names, I mean?”

He sighed. “Last night when Officer Leger said Anne’s name and I didn’t know who he meant . . . it was embarrassing. Shouldn’t I know the people who tend to you better than some random guard?”

He’s not that random.
“To be fair, the maids all gossip about the guards. It wouldn’t surprise me if the guards did the same.”

“Still. They’re with you every day. I should have known their names months ago.”

I smiled at his reasoning and went to stand, though he looked uneasy about me moving at all.

“I’m fine, Maxon,” I insisted, taking his outstretched hand.

“You were shot last night, if I remember correctly. You can’t blame me for worrying.”

“It wasn’t like a real bullet wound. It only cut me.”

“All the same, I won’t quickly forget the sound of your muffled screams as Anne sewed you back together. Come, you should be resting.”

Maxon ushered me to the bed, and I crawled in. He tucked me under the covers before lying down on top of them himself, facing me. I waited for him to talk about everything that had happened or to warn me of the coming fallout. But he didn’t say anything. He lay there, brushing my hair back with his fingers, sometimes letting the tips linger on my cheek.

It felt as if we were the whole world just then.

“If something had happened—”

“But it didn’t.”

Maxon rolled his eyes, his voice getting serious. “It most certainly did! You came home bleeding. We nearly lost you in the streets.”

“Look, I’m not upset with the choice I made,” I said, trying to calm him. “I wanted to go, to hear for myself. Besides, it’s not as if I could have let you go without me.”

“I can’t believe how unprepared we were, going out in a palace truck without more guards. And there are rebels just walking the streets. Since when are they not hiding? Where are they getting these guns? I feel clueless, helpless. I’m losing the country I love a little every day. I nearly lost you, and I—”

Maxon stopped himself, his frustration fading into something new. He moved his hand back to my cheek. “Last night, you said something . . . about love.”

I looked down. “I remember.” I tried to contain my blush.

“It’s funny how you can think you’ve said something when you never really did.”

I giggled, feeling that the words were coming in his very next breath.

“It’s also funny how you can think you’ve heard something when you didn’t either,” he said instead.

All the humor vanished from the moment. “I know what you mean.” I swallowed and watched as his hand moved from my cheek to lace his fingers through mine, knowing that he and I were both watching them. “Maybe, for some people, it would be hard to confess that. Like, if they worried they might not make it to the end.”