by Kiera Cass
America held out the box to us, and I bit my lip in anticipation. All the things I thought I’d have at my wedding—a beautiful dress, a fantastic party, a room full of flowers—had been missing. The only thing I did have on that day was an absolutely perfect groom, and I was happy enough about that to let everything else pass.
Still, it was nice to receive a gift. It made things feel real.
I cracked open the box and resting inside were two simple, beautiful gold bands.
I covered my mouth. “America!”
“We did our best at guessing your sizes,” Maxon said. “And if you’d prefer a different metal, we’d be happy to exchange them.”
“I think your strings are sweet,” America said. “I hope you put the ones you’re wearing now away somewhere and keep them forever. But we thought you deserved something a bit more permanent.”
I stared at them, not able to believe they were real. It was funny. They were such small things, but they were absolutely priceless. I was close to tears with joy.
Carter took the rings out of my hand and handed them to Maxon, removing the smaller one from the box.
“Let’s see how it looks.” He slowly rolled my string down my finger, holding on to it as he slid the gold one on in its place.
“A little loose,” I said, fiddling with it. “But it’s perfect.”
Excited, I reached for Carter’s ring, and he tugged off his old one, keeping it with mine. His fit wonderfully, and I sat my hand on top of his, fanning out my fingers.
“This is too much!” I said. “It’s too many good things in one day.”
America came up behind me and wrapped her arms around me. “I have a feeling lots of good things are coming.”
I hugged her as Carter went to shake Maxon’s hand again. “I’m so glad to have you back,” I whispered.
“Me, too.”
“And you’ll need someone to stop you from going overboard,” I teased.
“Are you kidding? I need an army of people to stop me from going overboard.”
I giggled. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough. You know that, right? I’ll always be here for you.”
“Then that will be thanks enough.”
THE ARRIVAL
“JUST A FEW MORE MINUTES, miss,” the chauffeur called.
This drive was taking an eternity. The car was nice and all, no objections there, but I seriously couldn’t take this waiting. By now all the girls who were from the West Coast were either in the palace or close to it. In the meantime, I was wasting precious moments getting to the Carolina airport. Why couldn’t I simply have left from Clermont? Certainly the palace could have afforded separate flights.
As we turned onto the drive for the airport, I began gathering my things, shoving my brush and mints back into my bag. I checked my reflection one last time as the car finally came to a stop. I nudged the skin next to my eye. Was that a wrinkle? No, just the light. Still, if a shadow could do that, imagine what a few more years would accomplish.
“Miss?” the driver asked.
I glanced up at him, still wondering if I really looked as tired as my reflection led me to believe.
“Would you mind?” he asked, holding up a magazine opened to a recent ad I’d done for a line of bikinis.
I tried not to let my disgust over a much older, fatter man ogling me in basically my underwear come to the surface. Smiles were important in my line of work, and if I was going to be the princess, I’d need everyone to adore me. So I made my face gentle as I reached for the magazine.
“Thank you. My daughter is a huge fan.”
“Oh?” I asked, relieved that it was for her.
“Yeah, she’s a pretty thing and studies these ads more than her math. She wants to model so badly.”
I squinted. “But if you’re a driver, she must be a Six?”
“Yeah,” he said as if his position was somehow secret. No one’s was a secret. “We’ve got hopes to marry her up, though I don’t think we can manage a Two. But she’s got her fingers crossed and is working hard, just in case.”
I didn’t ask about his plans. Sometimes these things involved men looking for trophies. Sometimes they involved exchanging high sums of money—though less than what it would actually cost to purchase a new caste. And, on the rare occasion, it involved love. I didn’t think that was the case with his daughter, and I really didn’t care.
“Well then, let me add a special little note for her.” I scrawled “Hold on to your dreams!” over the page, making sure not to cover myself with ink, then signed my name grandly at the bottom. “Here you go. Tell her I said good luck.”
“I will! And the same to you,” he wished as I exited the car.
Luck was fine and well, but I didn’t need it. I had a plan.
I pulled down my sunglasses and rearranged the daisy in my hair. This was where it all began for me—this was my first opportunity to show the other girls they were looking at their future queen.
I knew the competition, and I was the only Two who had any sort of clout coming into this. Some of the others might have more money, but I already had an adoring public, something the monarchy could not overlook. And anyone below a Two? Well, she was wasting everyone’s time.
I pulled open the door and sauntered into the airport. The other girls were easy enough to spot with their dark pants and white shirts, so I made a direct line for them. Behind my sunglasses I could see that coming in strong was already working. Ashley the Three looked brokenhearted by my mere presence, and Marlee the Four seemed equally dazed. Oh, and there was the Five! America. I knew she’d be in my group since we were coming to Carolina, but I was surprised. She looked pretty polished.
I felt certain she’d be amusing to watch. There was absolutely no way a bumpkin like her was going to make it through the first day alone without humiliating herself, all done up or not.
“Hello,” Marlee greeted, though it sounded more like a question.
I pulled off my sunglasses and gave her a once-over. Pretty enough, but her hair seemed thin. And if her eyes always looked that worried, she would be gone within a week.
“When do we leave?”
“We don’t know,” America replied, her tone surprisingly sharp considering she was talking to a superior. “You’ve been holding up the show.”
I took her in as well. I wished I could have called her ugly, but she was even prettier in person than in her picture. And she wasn’t a wilting flower, which might actually do her some good in this situation. Maybe she’d be less entertaining than I thought.
“Sorry, quite a few people wanted to see me off,” I answered. Undoubtedly she was trying to remember where she’d seen my face before. Reminding her I had fans might jog her memory. “I couldn’t help it.”
She didn’t seem to recognize me. Oh, well.
The pilot showed up, and I won him over instantly. I didn’t need these pathetic girls’ approval, but I definitely intended to get everyone else’s.
We boarded the plane, and it was rather obvious that America had never flown before. I doubted she even had a car. I watched as Ashley pulled out paper, already documenting her experience, and Marlee buddied up with America instantly. For all the luxury in my life, it was hard to compete with a royal private plane, and I wanted to gush to someone about the leather seats and the delicious champagne. There was a phone by my chair, so I could have called someone. But who? My harebrained mother? My agent? My manicurist who spoke in broken English?
There was no one.
I pulled the eye mask on and pretended to sleep. Besides, I was looking tired, and maybe the rest would do me good.
I lay there, fantasizing about life at the palace. I would make a spectacular princess. I mean, put Maxon and me side by side, and we were nearly a replica of his parents. How gorgeous would we all look in photos together? I could see it coming together. In my head, I batted my lashes and looked at the prince playfully from behind a fan, making him fall for me a little more ea
ch day.
“Celeste, on the other hand . . . ,” someone whispered.
Without moving, I tuned my ears to the conversation.
“I know. It’s only been an hour, and I’m already looking forward to her going home.”
I recognized that as America’s voice, so the laugh that followed must have belonged to Marlee.
“I don’t want to talk badly about anyone, but she’s so aggressive.” Yes, I am. Thank you for noticing. “And Maxon’s not even around yet. I’m a little nervous about her.”
I suppressed a smile, pleased with myself. I felt bad for the other girls, but they would simply have to go. I was born for this. I needed it.
“Don’t be,” America replied calmly. “Girls like that? They’ll take themselves out of the competition.”
My smile immediately faded. What did she mean? I was going to be the paragon of competitors. Beautiful, famous, wealthy . . . I’d be surprised if I wasn’t Maxon’s first date.
I’d told myself I wouldn’t let these girls get under my skin. My intention was to stay aloof and focus all my attentions on the prince. But I was starting to wonder if I needed a secondary plan . . . something that would keep the others aware of just how little they were. I kept my eyes hidden away, and I schemed.
THE KISS
I TRAILED MY LIPS DOWN Maxon’s neck, wishing it didn’t seem like work. He was handsome enough, and funny on occasion. For goodness’ sake, he was the prince. Shouldn’t that make every last second exciting?
More than anything, I just felt tired. The effort it took to be like this all day every day wasn’t sustainable. My hope was that once I won, I could be myself all the time. I was softer than this, quieter than this. But if I let up now, I sensed it would all be over.
With Maxon I always needed to be on. I had to be charming, entertaining, sexy, poised, and a thousand other qualities girls are expected to have all at one time. And while I knew I was capable of being every last one of those things, it was nice to take turns and switch off the humor for a moment to be sad or turn off sultry and be cute.
And when I wasn’t with him, I had to be on constant guard with the other girls. It was getting easier since Marlee eliminated herself and Natalie was too ditzy to be a real threat. I’d put Elise under so much pressure that I was sure she’d crack any day now, and America’s spirit had been broken ever since the people turned on her. It was going to come down to Kriss and me—I knew it. She was the only thing standing between me and eternal fame.
I dug my nails in Maxon’s hair and shivered a little when his fingers traveled down the length of my bare back. It wasn’t a terrible feeling, but I could tell within the depths of myself that something was missing here.
My body went into autopilot, running a hand across his chest and teasing him with my lips as my brain worked overtime.
Maxon was a gentleman . . . but he was still a man. How many sweet words would it take to get him out of this hallway and into my bedroom? If I’d timed things right—and I felt pretty sure I had—this night could take me to the end without much more work. A prenuptial pregnancy would require the Selection to come to an abrupt halt and a wedding to follow immediately after. And I knew he wanted children. After all, he talked about it all the time. He probably wouldn’t even mind.
I wrapped my leg around him, sighing. Maxon seemed blissfully content as he lowered his mouth to my ear.
“I’ve never really kissed anyone quite like this.”
“But you do it so well!” I teased, leaning back into him.
I could get him upstairs, I was sure of it. He was desperate for this attention, desperate to feel something. I’d be able to give him that.
I moved my lips back down to his neck, and he tilted to make it easier. I giggled and kissed him again, listening to him sigh.
Had I done my job so well that he really loved me? He was so happy here, so grateful for my kisses, he must. The only alternative was that he was as lonely as I was, and anyone would do for now. But, again, he was a gentleman.
I felt his body turn to stone, as if he suddenly lost interest.
No, no, no!
I moved up, biting his ear, something that he’d seemed to enjoy. I kissed his chin, ahhing as I went. I moved my hands down his arms, trying to lace his fingers with mine. . . .
Nothing worked.
I pulled back and looked sweetly into his eyes. “Something wrong, honey?”
He was staring into the dark, and I turned to see what he was looking at. As far as I could tell, the hall was empty.
“I have to go,” he announced.
“What? No, wait,” I pleaded as he began to move. “I have a wonderful evening planned for us. There’s so much more I want to show you.”
Maxon paused, gazing at me in confusion. “Show me?”
“Yes.” I got close to him, my nose brushing up against his cheek. “In my room.”
I pulled back to look into his eyes. I wished I could have seen what was happening in his mind, but it didn’t appear to be a debate. More like he was searching for the kindest way to let me down.
“I apologize. My behavior tonight wasn’t appropriate, and I led you on. You are a very beautiful girl.” He smiled. “No doubt you’re aware. Still, I shouldn’t have. . . . I’m sorry. Goodnight.”
Maxon rushed up the stairs before I could think of a way to lure him back, taking the steps two at a time.
What. Just. Happened?
I slipped off my heels, scurrying up the stairs. An apology was not an explanation, and I demanded one. I could hear his hurried footsteps, and I chased after him, prepared to give him a piece of my mind. At the second-floor landing I hid behind the corner as I watched him turn down a hallway on the far end of the wing. Only one person was left on that side of the floor.
After everything that just happened, he was running off to America Singer?
I stormed down to my room, slamming the door behind me.
“My lady?” Veda asked. I threw a shoe at her, followed quickly by the other.
“GET OUT!” I screamed. “All of you! Out!”
My maids covered their heads and ran, trying to escape before anything else could hit them.
I tore pages out of books and flung canisters of scented powder at the wall. I pulled at my hair and ripped the sheets off the bed. I looked around, searching for things to ruin. Nothing in the room was really mine . . . except for my dresses. I sat on the floor of my closet shredding chiffon and lace and satin. It felt good to destroy something.
I needed scissors! That would make this so much better.
I went over to my vanity, scouring my drawers for the trimming shears Veda used on my split ends.
And I caught a glimpse of my reflection.
I was covered in sweat, lip gloss smeared from kissing a boy I didn’t love, in the dark. My hair was a bird’s nest, and my eyes were wild.
I’d never looked so ugly.
“What are you doing?” I whispered to the unrecognizable girl. I shook my head at her, nothing but pity for this very beautiful thing who had turned into a monster.
I dropped everything in my hands back into the drawer and went to the shower. I shed my Band-Aid of a dress and crawled in, letting the water hit me as I rested on the porcelain.
He went to America. He got all worked up with me and ran off to her. Did he have her up against a wall now? Did he have her in the bed?
I dismissed the thought. Whatever he was, she was too pure to be swayed.
I wasn’t jealous. I wasn’t even irritated. More than anything, I felt dirty.
Was this worth it?
After all this time in the spotlight, a lifetime of being adored, I refused to fade into the background.
As princess, as queen, I would be remembered forever. I needed that. . . .
But was it worth sleeping with someone who I didn’t really care about? Having a baby that I didn’t really want?
I sat up in the shower, lifting my head to the spray, rinsin
g off the thought. Maybe I owed one to America for saving me from myself tonight. Not that I’d ever tell her.
Toweling off, I walked back into my room, shocked at the mess I’d made. I remembered doing it, but I didn’t think it was that bad.
First things first. I brushed out my hair. I couldn’t have it all knotted. I put lotion on and found a decent robe.
Then I went over to the buzzer, calling for Veda. I wondered how quickly she’d come after I threw a shoe at her head.
Looking around the room, there were a handful of things I could take care of myself. I remade the bed and tidied up my vanity. By the time Veda showed up, hands pressed to her chest in worry, I’d done all I could.
“You’ll need a broom,” I told her as she stared at the mess. “And . . . bring a second for me.”
She brought them back faster than I’d have thought possible, and I worked on the paper while she took care of the powder. I bundled up the ruined dresses for her, and she picked the scraps off the floor.
“Sorry,” I whispered.
Her eyes widened. I’d yet to apologize for anything.
“Don’t worry, my lady. We can always use the extra pieces.”
When my room looked normal again, I crept into bed, more tired than I’d ever been. It wasn’t just this one day weighing on me—it was dozens.
I couldn’t give up. But it was becoming clear I also couldn’t carry on. Not like this.
Love was not in the equation. I could live with that. But how could I make myself more valuable to Maxon than someone he did love? I had plenty of prized qualities. I simply had to make him see. I had to show him that I could be queen.
THE DEPARTURE
“DO YOU THINK SHE’LL COME back?” Elise wondered aloud, slipping her feet into another pair of shoes. I thought that particular pair had been given to me, but there were so many presents, it was hard to keep track. We hadn’t even bothered to pull any of it out of the parlor that Maxon had set aside for us to have our own Christmas celebration, just him and the Elite. Hers or mine, I wasn’t going to fight about it. We were well past that now.