The Selection Stories Collection (71 page)

“I could tell him. America and Kriss would be my witnesses, and Maxon would have to send you home.”

Celeste swallowed. How humiliating it would be to leave like that!

“I won’t though,” Elise said, finally. “I would never force Maxon’s hand, and win or lose, I want to do it with integrity. So let’s move forward.”

It wasn’t an actual statement of forgiveness, but it was above and beyond what Celeste was expecting. It was all she could do to keep herself together as she nodded and whispered her thanks to Elise.

“Wow,” Kriss said, attempting to change the subject, “I mean, I didn’t want to tell on you either, Celeste, but . . . I didn’t think about honor being behind that choice.” Kriss turned to Elise, thinking over the words.

“It’s always on my mind,” Elise confessed. “I have to hold on to it however I can, especially since I’ll be an embarrassment to my family if I don’t win.”

“How is it your fault if he’s the one doing the choosing?” Kriss asked, shifting her weight and settling back in. “How would that make you an embarrassment?”

Elise turned in more, moving from one worry to another. “Because of the arranged-marriage thing. The best girls get the best men and vice versa. Maxon is the height of perfection. If I lose, it means that I wasn’t good enough. My family won’t think about the feelings behind his choice, which is what I’m sure he’ll judge by. They’ll look at it logically. My breeding, my talents—I was raised to be worthy of the best, so if I’m not, then who will have me when I leave?”

I’d thought about how my life would change if I won or lost a million times, but I’d never considered what it would mean for the others. After everything with Celeste, I really should have.

Kriss put a hand on Elise’s. “Almost all the girls who went home are already engaged to wonderful men. To be a part of the Selection at all makes you a prize. And you made it to the top four of the Elite at the very least. Trust me, Elise, guys will be lined up around the block for you.”

Elise smiled. “I don’t need a line. I just need one.”

“Well, I need a line,” Celeste said, making us all chuckle, even Elise.

“I’d like a handful,” Kriss said. “A line does sound overwhelming.”

They looked at me. “One.”

“You’re nuts,” Celeste decided.

We talked for a while about Maxon, about home, about our hopes. We’d never really spoken like this, without any kind of wall between us. Kriss and I had been working on it, trying to be honest and upfront about the competition; but now that we could just talk about life, I could tell that our relationships would survive the palace. Elise was a surprise, but the fact that her perspective came from such a different place than mine made me think on a deeper level, opening me up.

And the bombshell: Celeste. If someone had told me that the brunette in the heels who walked over so menacingly that first day in the airport would be the girl I was happiest to have settled next to me at this very moment, I would have laughed in their face. The thought was almost as unbelievable as the fact that I was still here, one of the last girls and very heartbroken about how close I was to losing Maxon.

As we spoke, I could see her being accepted by the others as fully as she was now by me. She even looked different with the weight of her secrets cast off from her. Celeste had been raised to be a specific kind of pretty. That beauty depended on covering things up, shifting the light, and seeking to be perfect at all times. But there is a different kind of beauty that comes with humility and honesty, and she was glowing with it now.

Maxon must have walked up very quietly, because I had no idea how long he had been standing at the door, watching us. It was Elise who saw his figure on the edge of my room and stiffened first.

“Your Majesty,” she said, bowing her head.

We all looked over, sure we’d misheard her.

“Ladies.” He nodded his head back at us. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I think I just ruined something here.”

We looked at one another, and I felt sure I wasn’t the only one thinking,
No, you made something really amazing.

“Everything’s fine,” I said.

“Again, I’m sorry to intrude, but I need to speak to America. Alone.”

Celeste sighed and started moving, looking back to wink at me before she stood. Elise rose quickly, and Kriss followed, giving my leg a little squeeze as she hopped off the bed. Elise gave Maxon a curtsy as she left, while Kriss paused to straighten his lapel. Celeste walked up, as strong as I’d ever seen her, and whispered something into Maxon’s ear.

When she was done, he smiled. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

“Good.” She left, closing the door behind her, and I stood to take whatever was coming.

“What was that about?” I asked, nodding toward the door.

“Oh, Celeste was making it clear that if I hurt you, she’d make me cry,” he said with a smile.

I laughed. “I’ve been on the receiving end of those nails, so be careful there.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I took in a breath, letting my smile fade. “So?”

“So?”

“Are you going to do it?”

Maxon grinned and shook his head. “No. It was an intriguing thought for a moment, but I don’t want to start over. I like my imperfect girls.” He shrugged, his face content. “Besides, Father doesn’t know about August, or what the Northern rebels’ goals are, or any of that. His solutions are shortsighted. Jumping ship now would be just that.”

I sighed in relief. I’d hoped that Maxon cared about me enough not to let me go, but after sitting with the girls, I didn’t want to see that happen to them either.

“Besides,” he added, seeming pleased, “you should have seen the press.”

“Why? What happened?” I begged, moving closer.

“They were impressed with you once again. I don’t think even I quite understand the mood of the country right now. It’s as if . . . it’s as if they know things could be different. The way he governs the country is the same way he governs me. He feels no one is capable of making the right decisions but him, so he forces his opinions on people. And, after reading Gregory’s diaries, it sounds like it’s been that way for a while.

“But no one wants that anymore. People want a choice.” Maxon shook his head. “You’re terrifying to him, but he can’t expel you. They
adore
you, America.”

I swallowed. “Adore?”

He nodded. “And . . . I feel similarly. So, no matter what he says or does, don’t lose faith. This isn’t over.”

I placed my fingers on my lips, shocked by the news. The Selection would continue, the girls and I still had our chance, and, based on Maxon’s report, the people were approving of me more and more.

But for all the good news, one thing was still pressing on me.

I looked down at the blanket, almost afraid to ask. “I know this will sound stupid . . . but who’s the French king’s daughter?”

Maxon was silent for a moment before he sat down on the bed. “Her name is Daphne. Before the Selection, she was the only girl I really knew.”

“And?”

He huffed out a soundless laugh. “And a little late in the game I discovered her feelings for me went a little bit deeper than friendship. But I didn’t return those feelings. I couldn’t.”

“Was there something wrong with her or—”

“America, no.” Maxon reached for my hand, forcing me to look at him. “Daphne is my friend. That’s all she ever could be. I spent my life waiting for you, for all of you. This was my chance to find a wife, and I’ve known that for as long as I can remember. Romantically, my interactions with Daphne were nonexistent. I’d never have thought to mention her name to you, and I’m certain the only reason Father did was to give you yet another opportunity to doubt yourself.”

I bit my lip. The king knew my weaknesses too well.

“I watch you do it, America. You compare yourself to my mother, to the other Elite, to a version of yourself you think you ought to be, and now you’re about to do the same thing with a person you didn’t know existed until a few hours ago.”

It was true. I was already wondering if she was prettier than me, smarter than me, and if she said Maxon’s name with a ridiculously flirtatious accent.

“America,” he said, cupping my face in his hand. “If she had mattered, I would have told you. The same way you would with me.”

My stomach turned. I hadn’t been completely honest with Maxon. But with his eyes right there, staring so deeply into mine, it was easy to dismiss all that. I could forget about everything surrounding us when he looked at me like that. And so I did.

I fell into Maxon’s arms, holding him tightly. There was no place in the world I wanted to be more.

C
ELESTE HAD BECOME THE CHAMPION
of our newfound sisterhood. It was her idea to drag all our maids and a bunch of big mirrors down to the Women’s Room and essentially spend the day making one another over. There wasn’t much point, seeing as there was no way any of us could do a better job than the palace staff, but it was fun all the same.

Kriss held the ends of my hair across my forehead. “Have you ever considered getting bangs?”

“A couple of times,” I admitted, fluffing the fringe hanging just above my eyes. “But my sister usually ends up annoyed with hers, so I change my mind.”

“I think you’d look cute,” Kriss said enthusiastically. “I cut some for my cousin once. I could do yours if you want.”

“Yeah,” Celeste chimed in. “Let her near your face with scissors, America. Great idea.”

We all burst into laughter. I even noticed a tiny giggle from the other end of the room. I glanced over to see the queen pursing her lips together tightly as she attempted to read the file in front of her. I was worried she’d find all this a bit improper, but, honestly, I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen her so happy.

“We should take pictures!” Elise said.

“Anyone got a camera?” Celeste asked. “I’m a pro at this.”

“Maxon does!” Kriss shouted. “Come here for a minute,” she said to a maid, waving her over encouragingly.

“Hold on,” I said, grabbing some paper. “Okay, okay. ‘Your Highest of Highnesses, the ladies of the Elite require, immediately, the least fancy of your cameras for . . .’”

Kriss giggled, and Celeste shook her head.

“Oh! A study in feminine diplomacy,” Elise added.

“Is that a real thing?” Kriss asked.

Celeste tossed her hair. “Who cares?”

Maybe twenty minutes later, Maxon knocked on the door and pushed it open an inch. “Can I come in?”

Kriss ran over. “No. We just want the camera.” And she snatched it from his hand and closed the door in his face.

Celeste fell on the floor, laughing.

“What are you doing in there?” he called. But we were all too busy doubling over to answer.

There were lots of poses behind the shrubs and a thousand kisses blown, and Celeste showed us all how to “find the light.”

As Kriss and Elise lay down on the couch and Celeste climbed above them to snap more photos, I looked over and saw the satisfied smile on the queen’s face. It felt wrong that she wasn’t a part of this. I snatched up one of the brushes and walked over to her.

“Hello, Lady America,” she greeted.

“Could I brush your hair?”

Several emotions played across her face, but she only nodded and spoke quietly. “Of course.”

I walked behind her and picked up a handful of her absolutely gorgeous hair. I raked the brush down again and again, watching the other girls as I did so.

“It does my heart good to see you all getting along,” she commented.

“Me, too. I like them.” I was quiet for a while. “I’m sorry about the Convicting. I know I shouldn’t have done that. I just . . .”

“I know, dear. You explained it all beforehand. It’s a difficult task. And you did seem to have a sickly bunch.”

I realized then how out of the loop she was. Or maybe she simply chose to believe the best about her husband at all costs.

As if she could read my thoughts, she spoke. “I know you think Clarkson’s harsh, but he’s a good man. You have no idea how stressful it is to be in his shoes. We all deal with it in our own ways. He has a temper sometimes; I need lots of rest; Maxon jokes it off.”

“He does, doesn’t he?” I said, laughing.

“The question is, how would you handle it?” She turned her head. “I think your passion is one of your best features. If you could learn to control it, you could be a wonderful princess.”

I nodded. “I’m sorry I let you down.”

“No, no, dear,” she said, turning forward. “I see potential in you. I worked in a factory when I was your age. I was dirty and hungry, and sometimes I was angry. But I had an undying crush on the prince of Illéa, and when I got the chance to make him my own, I learned to check those feelings. There’s a lot to be done from here, but it might not happen the way you want it to. You need to learn to accept that, okay?”

“Yes, Mom,” I joked.

She looked back at me, her face like stone.

“I mean, ma’am. Ma’am.”

Her eyes started glistening, and she blinked a few times, turning forward again. “If it ends as I suspect it will, Mom will be just fine.”

And then it was my turn to blink back the tears. It wasn’t like I was ever going to replace my mother; but it felt special to be accepted, with all my flaws, by the mother of the person I might marry.

Celeste turned and saw us, and she ran over. “You’re so cute! Smile.”

I leaned down, wrapping my arms around Queen Amberly, and she reached up to touch my hands. After that, we all took turns crowding around her, getting her to finally make one silly face for the camera. The maids helped take pictures so we could all be in some together; and, by the end of it, I could easily say that was my best day in the palace. I didn’t know if that would hold though. Christmas was right around the corner.

My maids were fixing my hair after Elise’s last terrible attempt at an up-do when there was a knock on the door.

Mary rushed to answer it, and a guard whose name I didn’t know came into the room. I’d seen him around a lot, almost exclusively at the king’s side.

My maids curtsied as he walked closer, and I was more than a little anxious when he stopped in front of me.