by Kiera Cass
“What’d you dream up?”
“I realize this might be overstepping boundaries, but I was thinking about the town hall, and I was wondering if it might be helpful to have things like that more often. I was redesigning one of the parlors into a permanent throne room, where you could receive people, hear individual petitions, and address them one-on-one. Something official but understated.”
“That’s really thoughtful.”
He shrugged. “I told you, I keep making things for you.”
The glimmer in his eyes was so boyish that for a moment I forgot we were on the verge of so many grown-up things.
“You also might want to think about setting up a radio station,” he commented.
“Ugh, why? The Reports are bad enough.”
“When I was taking classes in Fennley, my friends and I listened to the radio a lot. We would leave it on in the kitchen or while we worked, and any time we heard something interesting, we’d stop and listen and start our own discussion. It might be a good way for you to reach people. And it’s not quite as bad as having a camera in your face.”
“Interesting. I’ll think about it.” I touched the tips of his dirty fingers. “Did you work on anything else?”
He made a face. “Remember those little units I was talking about? I was trying to see if they could be built with an upstairs, for larger families. But looking at the materials I wanted to use, it doesn’t seem possible. The metal would be too thin. It would be helpful if I could actually build one and test it out. Maybe one day.”
I stared at him. “You know, Kile, princes rarely get their hands dirty.”
“I know.” He smiled. “It’s more something nice to think about than anything.” He shifted his weight and the conversation in one swift movement. “The papers looked good today.”
“Yeah. Now I just have to keep that momentum going. I have no idea how to re-create it though.”
“You don’t have to. Sometimes things just happen.”
“It would feel nice to not try to work at it all so much.” I yawned. Even a mostly good day was tiring.
“Do you want me to go so that you can get some rest?”
“Nah,” I said, settling in a little closer and rolling onto my back. “Can you stay here for a little while?”
“Sure.”
He held my hand, and we stared at the intricate painting on my ceiling.
“Eadlyn?”
“Yeah.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah. I feel like I’d be doing better if I could go slower, but everything has to be now, now, now.”
“You could push the coronation back. Stay regent for a while. It’s practically the same thing.”
“I know, but it doesn’t feel the same. My dad was doing okay with me as regent, but even in the short time since we set a date for the coronation, he’s been much better. I know it’s all mental, but if it helps him sleep, which helps him with Mom, which helps her get better . . .”
“I see what you’re saying. But what else? You’re not rushing through the Selection, are you?”
“Not on purpose. It seems to be thinning itself out for me.”
“What do you mean?”
I sighed. “I can’t really say now. Maybe once everything’s settled.”
“You can trust me.”
“I know.” I leaned my head into his shoulder. “Kile?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you remember our first kiss?”
“How could I forget? It was printed on the front of every newspaper.”
“No, not that one. Our first first kiss.”
After a beat of confusion, he sucked in a huge breath. “Oh. My. Gosh.”
I just lay there laughing.
When I was four and Kile was six, he and I played together a lot. I still didn’t remember what made him start hating palace life or when our mutual dislike for each other kicked in, but back then Kile was like another Ahren. One day the three of us were playing hide-and-seek, and Kile found me. Instead of tagging me out, though, he bent down and kissed me full on the mouth.
I stood up and pushed him to the ground and swore to him that if he ever tried it again, I’d have him hanged.
“What four-year-old knows how to threaten someone’s life?” he teased.
“One who was raised to, I suppose.”
“Wait, is this your way of telling me you’re having me hanged? Because, if so, this is incredibly cold.”
“No.” I laughed. “I felt you deserved an apology by now.”
“It’s fine. Really funny years later. When people ask about my first kiss, I never say that one. I tell them it was the daughter of the Saudi prime minister. I guess that one was actually my second.”
“Why don’t you tell them about me?”
“Because I thought you might follow through on the hanging thing,” he joked. “I guess I just blocked it out. It wasn’t exactly a fantastic first kiss.”
I started giggling. “Mom told me that she was Dad’s first kiss, and she pretty much tried to back out of it.”
“Really?!”
“Yeah.”
Kile laughed. “Do you know about Ahren’s?”
“No.” But Kile was so tickled, I was in tears before he said a word.
“It was with one of the Italian girls, but he had a cold and—” He paused because he was laughing so hard. “Oh, man, he had to sneeze mid-kiss, so there was snot everywhere.”
“What?”
“I didn’t see the kiss, but I was there for the aftermath. I just grabbed him, and we ran.”
My stomach hurt from laughing, and it took a while for it to wear out of our systems. When we finally calmed down, I realized something. “I don’t know anyone who’s had a really good first kiss.”
After a second he answered. “Me neither. Maybe it’s not the first kisses that are supposed to be special. Maybe it’s the last ones.”
CHAPTER 19
I STOOD STILL AS NEENA placed pins down the back of my coronation gown. It was a showstopper, with a sweetheart neckline and a full skirt all in gold. The cape was a little heavy, but I only had to wear that in the church. While I had chosen this gown out of the three that had been offered to me, it probably wasn’t what I’d have worn if I’d had time to design the dress myself. Still, everyone sighed when they saw it, so I bit my tongue and was grateful.
“You look beautiful, darling,” Mom said as I stood on a raised platform in front of huge mirrors that had been brought to my room especially for this fitting.
“Thanks, Mom. How do you think it compares with yours?”
She chuckled. “My coronation dress was also my wedding dress, so there’s no comparison. Your gown is perfect for the occasion.”
Neena chuckled as I touched the embroidery on the bodice. “It’s definitely the most ostentatious dress I’ve ever worn.”
“And just think, you’ll have to one-up yourself when you get married,” Neena joked.
My smile faded. “True. That’ll be a challenge, huh?”
“You okay?” she asked, looking at me in the mirror.
“Yes. A little tired is all.”
“I don’t care what else happens this week, you need to rest,” Mom ordered. “Saturday is going to be long, and you’ll be at the center of it all.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I watched her fiddling with her necklace. “Mom? What do you think you would have done if you couldn’t have married Dad? Like, if it got to the end and he chose someone else?”
She shook her head. “He very nearly did. You know about the massacre.” She swallowed, pausing for a minute. After all this time it was still hard for her to go back there. “That day he might have gone down an entirely different path, which meant I would have, too.”
“Would you have been okay though?”
“Eventually,” she said slowly. “I don’t think either of us would have lived a life that was bad necessarily. It just might not have been the best it could have been.”
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“But you wouldn’t have been completely miserable the rest of your life?”
She studied my face in the mirror. “If you’re worried about letting your suitors down, you can’t focus on that.”
I pressed my hands to my stomach, holding the dress tight as Neena worked. “I know. It’s just harder than I thought it would be by this point.”
“It’ll become clear. Trust me. And your father and I will support you in whatever choice you make.”
“Thank you.”
“I think this is finally coming together,” Neena commented, stepping back to appraise her work. “If you’re happy, you can take it off, and I’ll have the courier send it back to Allmond.”
Mom nibbled on some apple slices. “I don’t understand why he wouldn’t let you do the sewing. He trusts you to fit it.”
She shrugged. “I just follow orders.”
A quiet knock on the door drew our attention. “Come in,” Neena called, falling into her old role. I wished she could just run my entire life for me. Everything felt easier with her around.
A butler entered and bowed. “Pardon me, Your Highness. There’s some confusion about the suit for one of the gentlemen.”
“Which one?”
“Erik, miss.”
“The translator?” Mom asked.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“I’m coming,” I said, following him out the door.
“Don’t you want to take off the gown?” Neena asked.
“It’ll give me a chance to practice walking in it.”
And it did. It was incredibly heavy, and a little hard to navigate down the stairs. I’d need sturdier heels.
As I approached Erik’s room, I could hear him imploring someone to reconsider. “I am not an Elite. It would be inappropriate.”
I pushed the door open wider, finding him in a suit with chalk lines down the sides and pins in the hem.
“Your Highness,” the tailor said, immediately dropping into a bow.
Erik, however, stared and stared, unable to look away from the dress.
“We’re having a problem coming to terms with his suit, miss.” The tailor motioned to the chalked-up suit.
Erik regained his composure. “I don’t want to confuse anyone by wearing a suit that matches what the Elite are wearing.”
“But you will be walking in the procession, and there will be scores of pictures,” the tailor insisted. “Uniformity is best.”
Erik looked at me, his eyes pleading.
I pressed my fingers to my lips, considering. “Could you give us a moment, please?”
The tailor bowed again and exited, and I crossed to stand in front of Erik.
“It does look rather sharp,” I said with a grin.
“It does,” he admitted. “I’m just not sure it’s proper.”
“What? To look nice for a day?”
“I’m not an Elite. It’s . . . confusing to have me standing with them, looking like them, when I can’t . . . I’m not . . .”
I put a hand on his chest. “The tailor is right. You will want to blend in. A different color of suit wouldn’t help your case here.”
He sighed. “But I’m—”
“What if your tie was a slightly different color?” I offered quickly.
“Is that my only option?”
“Yes. Besides, think of how much your mother will love this.”
He rolled his eyes. “That’s so unfair. You win.”
I clapped my hands. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”
“Of course it was easy for you. You were the one giving the command.”
“I didn’t mean to command you, not really.”
He smirked. “Of course you did. You’re made for it.”
I couldn’t tell if that was a critique or a compliment. “What do you think?” I asked, holding out my arms. “I mean, you have to try to imagine it without all the pins.”
He paused. “You look breathtaking, Eadlyn. I couldn’t even remember what I was so worked up about when you first walked in.”
I fought the blush. “I’ve been wondering if it was too much.”
“It’s perfect. I can see it’s a little different from your usual style, but then again, your typical look isn’t meant to be coronation-day ready.”
I turned around and looked in the mirror. That one sentence made the whole thing so much better.
“Thank you. I think I’ve been overanalyzing it.”
He stood beside me. It was comical, these beautiful clothes, some of the best we’d ever wear, marked in chalk and held by pins. We looked like dolls. “That seems to be a talent of yours.”
I grimaced but nodded. He was right.
“I realize I’m in no position to tell you what to do,” he said, “but you seem to handle things much better when you think about them less. Get out of your head. Trust your gut. Trust your heart.”
“I’m terrified of my heart.” I didn’t mean to say those words out loud, but there was something about him that made this room, and this moment, the only place I could ever admit to the truth.
He leaned down by my ear and whispered, “There’s nothing there to fear.” He cleared his throat, then turned back to face our reflections. “Maybe what you need is a little luck. You see this ring?” he asked, holding out his pinkie.
I did. I’d noticed it a dozen times. Why would someone who dulled himself down and refused to put on a suit wear a piece of jewelry?
“This was my great-great-grandmother’s wedding ring. The weaving design is a traditional Swendish thing. You see it everywhere in Swendway.” He slipped off the ring and held it between two fingers. “This has survived everything from wars to famine, even my family’s move to Illéa. I’m supposed to give it to the girl I marry. Mom’s orders.”
I smiled, charmed by his excitement. I wondered if there was someone back home hoping to wear it someday.
“But it seems to have a lot of good luck,” he continued. “I think you could use some right now.”
He held out the ring to me, but I shook my head. “I can’t take that! It’s an heirloom.”
“Yes, but it’s a very fortunate heirloom. It’s guided several people to their soul mates. And it’s only temporary. Until you get to the end of the Selection, or Henri and I leave. Whichever happens first.”
Hesitantly, I slid the ring onto my finger, noting how smooth it was.
“Thank you, Erik.”
I looked into his blue eyes. It only took one charged second to hear the heart that I’d had so little faith in. It was taking in that piercing stare and the warm scent of his skin . . . and it was shouting.
Without considering the repercussions or the complications, without knowing if he felt anything similar to what I did, I leaned into him. And I was thrilled to find he wasn’t pulling away. We were so close I could feel his breath across my lips.
“Have we made a decision?” the tailor asked, springing back in.
I jerked away from Erik. “Yes. Please finish the suit for us, sir.”
Without looking back, I hurried into the hallway. My heart was racing as I found an empty guest room and darted inside, slamming the door behind me.
I had felt it growing, this feeling that had been hiding beneath the surface for some time now. I’d seen him, this person who never intended to be seen, and my faulty, silly, useless heart kept whispering his name. I clutched my chest, feeling my heart racing. “You treacherous, treacherous thing. What have you done?”
I’d wondered how it was possible to magically find a soul mate in a random group of boys.
But now I couldn’t question it.
CHAPTER 20
THE NEXT FEW DAYS PASSED in a whirlwind of preparation for the coronation. I did my absolute best to stay in my office and take meals in my room, but even so, I couldn’t avoid Erik completely.
We had to go by the church and practice the procession, in which he was forced to participate in order to even out the number of people walking
behind me. And he had to stick by Henri as we walked the Elite through the Great Room, explaining how best to circulate at a formal party. And I had to approve the final fitting of their suits, which I managed to do without making eye contact but which still was much, much harder than I’d have thought.
The coronation would be one of the most important moments of my life, and still, all I could think about was how it might have felt to kiss him.
I was running late. I never ran late.
But my hair wouldn’t curl the right way, and a seam popped under my arm, and though I’d picked out sensible heels earlier in the week, once I tried them on with the dress, I hated them.
Eloise took deep breaths as she got my hair right, practicing with a mock crown to check that everything would look as beautiful as possible when the actual moment arrived. Neena was busy making sure people were dressed and ready, so it was Hale who dashed in at the last moment with a needle and thread to make sure everything with the dress was fixed.
“Thank you,” I breathed.
He tied off the last stitch. “Any time.” He looked at his watch. “Though I really wish you’d have asked earlier.”
“It didn’t pop until I put it on!”
He smiled. “I gave everything a once-over, and it looks like that was the only weak spot. Better we caught it now than in the middle of the day.”
I nodded. “I need things to be perfect today. Just once I’d like to come across as put together but not so put together that I hate everything and everyone around me.”
Hale laughed. “Well then, if it happens to pop again, roll with it.”
Eloise went to fetch something from the bathroom, and I took my chance. “How’s Ean?” I asked in a whisper.
“Good. Stunned,” he answered, almost giddy. “We both want to help you in whatever way we can. You’re making our futures possible, so we owe you one.”
“Just help me get through today, and that will be plenty.”
“Something every day,” he reminded me.
I hopped off the pedestal and hugged him. “You’ve been incredibly worthy.”
“That’s good to know,” he replied, returning my embrace. “Okay, I’m getting my suit jacket and heading downstairs. Let me know if you need me today.”