The Selection series 1-3. Кира Касс

quickly it would look like nothing but scratching an itch to anyone else—Maxon reached up and tugged on his ear. I repeated the action back, and we both turned away.

      I was excited to know that tonight, after dinner, Maxon would be stopping by my room.

      Suddenly the anthem music was playing, and I could see the national emblem on tiny screens around the room. I shifted to sit up straighter. All I could think was that my family was going to see me tonight, and I wanted them to be proud.

      King Clarkson was at the podium speaking about the brief and unsuccessful attack on the palace. I wouldn’t have called it unsuccessful. It managed to scare the daylights out of most of us. Announcement after announcement came, and I tried to be aware of everything they said, but it was hard. I was used to watching this on a comfy couch with bowls of popcorn and family commentary.

      Many of the announcements tied into the rebels, placing blame for certain things on their shoulders. The roads being built in Sumner were behind schedule because of the rebels, and the number of local officers in Atlin was down because they’d been sent to help with a rebel-caused disturbance in St. George. I had no idea either of those things had happened. Between everything I’d heard and seen growing up and what I’d learned since coming to the palace, I began to wonder just how much we knew about the rebels. Maybe I just didn’t understand, but I didn’t think they could be blamed for everything that was wrong with Illéa.

      And then, as if he had appeared out of thin air, Gavril was walking on set after being introduced by the Master of Events.

      “Good evening, everyone. Tonight I have a special announcement. The Selection has been going for a week now and eight ladies have already gone home, leaving twenty-seven beautiful women for Prince Maxon to choose from. Next week, by hook or by crook, the majority of the Illéa Capital Report will be dedicated to getting to know these amazing young women.”

      I felt the little beads of sweat pooling on my temple. Sit here and look nice … I could do that. But answer questions? I knew I wasn’t going to win this little game; that wasn’t the issue. I just really, really didn’t want to look like a moron in front of the entire country.

      “Before we get to the ladies, tonight let’s take a moment with the man of the hour. How are you tonight, Prince Maxon?” Gavril said, walking across the stage. Maxon had been ambushed. He didn’t have a microphone or prepared answers.

      Just before Gavril’s microphone reached Maxon’s face, I caught his eye and gave him a wink. That tiny action was enough to make him smile.

      “I’m very well, Gavril, thank you.”

      “Are you enjoying your company so far?”

      “Yes! It’s been a pleasure getting to know these ladies.”

      “Are they all the sweet, gentle ladies they appear to be?” Gavril asked. Before Maxon replied, the answer brought a smile to my face. Because I knew that it was yes … sort of.

      “Umm …” Maxon looked past Gavril at me. “Almost.”

      “Almost?” Gavril asked, surprised. He turned to us. “Is someone over there being naughty?”

      Mercifully, all the girls let out light giggles, so I blended in. The little traitor!

      “What exactly did these girls do that isn’t so sweet?” Gavril asked Maxon.

      “Oh, well, let me tell you.” Maxon crossed his legs and got very comfortable in his chair. It was probably the most relaxed I’d ever seen him, sitting there poking fun at me. I liked this side of him. I wished it would come out more often. “One of them had the nerve to yell at me rather forcefully the first time we met. I was given a very severe scolding.”

      Above Maxon’s head, the king and queen exchanged a glance. It seemed they were hearing this story for the first time, too. Beside me the girls were looking at one another, confused. I didn’t get it until Marlee said something.

      “I don’t remember anyone yelling at him in the Great Room. Do you?”

      Maxon seemed to have forgotten that our first meeting was meant to be a secret. “I think he’s talking it up to make it funnier. I did say some serious things to him. I think he might mean me.”

      “A scolding, you say? Whatever for?” Gavril continued.

      “Honestly, I wasn’t really sure. I think it was a bout of homesickness. Which is why I forgave her, of course.” Maxon was loose and easy now, talking to Gavril as if he were the only person in the room. I’d have to tell him later how wonderful he did.

      “So she’s still with us, then?” Gavril looked over at the collection of girls, grinning widely, and then returned to face his prince.

      “Oh, yes. She’s still here,” Maxon said, not letting his eyes wander from Gavril’s face. “And I plan on keeping her here for quite a while.”

      

      DINNER WAS DISAPPOINTING. NEXT WEEK I’d have to tell my maids to leave some room in the dress for me to eat.

      In my room, Anne, Mary, and Lucy waited to help me out of my gown, but I explained that I’d need to stay in it a little bit longer. Anne figured it out first—that Maxon was coming to see me—because I was always eager to get out of the binding clothes.

      “Would you like us to stay later tonight? It’s no problem,” Mary said just a little too hopefully. After the calamity of Maxon visiting earlier this week, I decided sending them out as early as possible was the best way to go. Besides, I couldn’t bear to have them watching me until he showed up.

      “No, no. I’m fine. If I have a problem with the dress later, I’ll ring.”

      They reluctantly backed out the door and left me to wait for Maxon. I didn’t know how long he’d be, and I didn’t want to start a book and have to stop, or sit down at the piano only to hop right back up. I ended up just lounging on the bed, waiting. I let my mind wander. I thought of Marlee and her kindness. I realized that, besides a few small details, I knew very little about her. Still, I trusted that her actions toward me were in no way fake. And then I thought of the girls who were all too fake. I wondered if Maxon could tell the difference.

      It seemed like Maxon’s experience with women was so great and so small at once. He was gentlemanly enough, but when he got too close, he came undone. It was like he knew how to treat a lady, he just didn’t know how to treat a date.

      It was quite a contrast to Aspen.

      Aspen.

      His name, his face, his memory hit me so quickly it was hard to process. Aspen. What was he doing now? It was getting close to curfew in Carolina. He’d still be at work, if he had a job today. Or maybe out with Brenna, or whoever else he’d decided to start spending his time with since we broke up. Part of me ached to know … part of me wanted to crumble just thinking about it.

      I looked over to my jar. I picked it up and felt the penny slide around, so lonely.

      “Me, too,” I whispered. “Me, too.”

      Was it stupid of me to keep this? I’d given back everything else, so why save one little penny? Would this be all I had left? A penny in a jar to show my daughter one day, to tell her about my first boyfriend—the one no one knew about?

      I didn’t have time to dwell on my worries. Maxon’s firm knock came only minutes later. I found myself running to the door.

      I drew it open in a big sweep, and Maxon looked surprised to see me.

      “Where in the world are your maids?” he asked, surveying my room.

      “Gone. I send them off when I come back from dinner.”

      “Every day?”

      “Yes, of course. I can take my clothes off