by Kiera Cass
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” I said adamantly. “You’ve been wonderful. I’ve been so happy to see you again and to know that you still love me. It’s changed everything.”
He smiled. “Good. Because I do love you, and I’m planning on making sure you never have a reason to doubt it.”
I squirmed. “Aspen, whatever we were, or are right now, we can’t be that here.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, shifting his weight.
“I’m part of the Selection right now. I’m here for Maxon, and I can’t date you or whatever this is while it’s still going on.” I started fidgeting with a bit of my comforter.
He thought a moment. “So were you lying to me? When you said you never stopped loving me?”
“No,” I assured him. “You’ve been in my heart the whole time. You’re the reason things have been going as slow as they are. Maxon likes me, but I can’t let myself really care about him because of you.”
“Well, great,” he said sarcastically. “Glad to know you’d be fine dating him if I wasn’t around.”
Underneath the anger, I could see he was heartbroken, but it wasn’t my fault it turned out this way.
“Aspen?” I asked quietly, getting him to look at me. “When you left me in the tree house, you crushed me.”
“Mer, I said I—”
“Let me finish.” He huffed, then was silent. “You took away my dreams, and the only reason I’m here is because you insisted I sign up.”
He shook his head, irritated at the truth.
“I’ve been trying to put myself back together, and Maxon really cares about me. You mean so much to me, you know you do. But I’m part of this now, and I’d be stupid to not let myself see what happens.”
“So you’re choosing him over me?” he asked miserably.
“No, I’m not choosing him or you. I’m choosing me.”
That was the truth at the core of everything. I didn’t know what I wanted yet, and I couldn’t let myself be swayed by what was easy or what someone else thought was right. I had to give myself time to decide what was best for me.
Aspen mulled this over for a moment, still not happy with what I was saying. Finally he smiled.
“You know I’m not giving up, right?” His tone was an obvious challenge, and I grinned in spite of myself. It was true that Aspen was not the type to admit defeat.
“This really isn’t a good place to try to fight for me. Your determination is a dangerous trait here.”
“I’m not afraid of that suit,” he scoffed.
I rolled my eyes, amused at being on this end of the relationship. I’d always been worried about someone stealing Aspen. I felt guilty about how refreshing it was to see him worried about someone stealing me for a change.
“Okay. You said you didn’t love him . . . but you must like him a little to be willing to stay, right?”
I ducked my head. “I do,” I said with a tiny nod. “He’s more than I ever imagined he was.”
He considered that for a moment, soaking it in.
“I guess that means I’ll have to fight harder than I thought,” he said, heading for the hall. Then he turned and gave me another wink. “Goodnight, Lady America.”
“Goodnight, Officer Leger.”
The door clicked shut, and the sense of peace was overwhelming. Since the Selection had started, I’d been worrying that it was something that was going to ruin my life. But in this moment, I couldn’t think of a time that felt more right.
Too soon, my maids bustled in. Anne pulled back the curtains, and as the light fell on me, it felt like this was truly my first day at the palace.
The Selection was no longer something that was simply happening to me, but something I was actively a part of. I was an Elite. I pulled back the covers and leaped into the morning.
END OF BOOK ONE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
OKAY, JUST IN CASE YOU’RE really busy or tired because you stayed up late finishing, I want to thank you first for reading my book. For reals, I love you. Thanks.
Now, to the people who made this happen. Well, actually, let’s go back a bit more.
As always, I thank God for words. I’m so glad I don’t have to try to communicate this story to you with my antennae or something. Words are so delicious, and I’ll be forever happy they exist.
Callaway: Oat bananas! Thanks for supporting me and being generally awesome.
Guyden: Thank you for sharing Mommy with the friends in her head.
Loads of love to my mom, dad, and little brother for encouraging me to be strange. Also, hugs and love to my mom, dad, and little brother-in-law for being such incredible cheerleaders. Between the six of you, I’ve been engulfed in excitement, and I’m so grateful for all of you.
Thank you to the gang at [nlcf] and to the FTW Crew for celebrating with me along the way. Hugs!
Thanks to Mary—the first person to read The Selection ever—for thinking it was cool, and to Liz and Michelle for being the thoughtful, rational, in-depth readers that I am not. The book is better because of you guys. Also, I think you are awesome.
Thank you to Ashley Brouillette for making a great video and earning her name a spot in the book. Bravo, miss! I also have to say thanks to Elizabeth O’Brien, Emily Arnold, and Kayleigh Poulin for hanging out with me when I was a nerd. Thanks for letting me use your names as well.
Other names I borrowed: Jenna, Elise, Mary, Lucy, Gerad, Amy, etc. Thanks for popping into my mind when I had no idea what to type. Yay!
Elana Roth: You are a rock goddess of an agent, and I cannot thank you enough for taking a chance on me even though I’m really, really awful on the phone. Still can’t figure out what possessed you. Also, thanks for letting me hug you. Love!
To Caren and Colleen at JLA, thanks for being there and generally rocking.
Erica Sussman: You are so dang cool. For realzies. It’s kind of amazing how well you get America and how fun you are to work with. I adore you and your purple pen. Thank you for never making this feel like work.
Tyler, you sassy girl, I feel your energy in everything. Thanks for all your work.
Dear Everyone at HarperTeen: Umm, THANK YOU! You were a dream I didn’t dare speak aloud, and I’m honored to be one of your authors and appreciate all of your work for me. From cover art to marketing to just the way you communicate with me, everything has been better than I could have ever hoped for. Thank you. Truly.
Jeannette, Catherine, Kati, Ciara, Christina, the ladies at Guy’s daycare, and anyone I might have missed: Thank you for watching Guyden at various times so I could work. It meant so much to me to know I wasn’t alone in this.
And, if you made it all the way through this, thanks again to you! Some of you have been with me from the first time I sat in front of a camera and said “Hello Interwebs.” Some of you read The Siren or found me on Twitter. Some of you just saw the pretty girl on the cover of the book and decided to pick it up. However and whenever you found me, thank you for reading my book. I hope it made you all kinds of happy.
CREDITS
COVER ART © 2012 BY GUSTAVO MARX/MERGELEFT REPS, INC.
COVER DESIGN BY SARAH HOY
COPYRIGHT
HarperTeen is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
THE SELECTION
Copyright © 2012 by Kiera Cass
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
www.epicreads.com
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Dat
a
Cass, Kiera.
The Selection / by Kiera Cass.—1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: “Sixteen-year-old America Singer is living in the caste-divided nation of Illéa, which formed after the war that destroyed the United States. America is chosen to compete in the Selection—a contest to see which girl can win the heart of Illéa’s prince—but all she really wants is a chance for a future with her secret love, Aspen, who is a caste below her”—Provided by publisher.
ISBN 978-0-06-205993-2 (trade bdg.)
ISBN 978-0-06-220313-7 (int’l ed.)
EPub Edition © APRIL 2012 ISBN: 9780062059956
Version 06207014
[1. Marriage—Fiction. 2. Contests—Fiction. 3. Social classes—Fiction. 4. Princes—Fiction. 5. Love—Fiction. 6. Revolutionaries—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.C2685133Sel 2012
2011042113
[Fic]—dc23
CIP
AC
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12 13 14 15 16 CG/RRDH 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
FIRST EDITION
Dedication
Call out the servants! The queen is awake!
(For Mom)
Contents
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Acknowledgments
Credits
Copyright
CHAPTER 1
THE ANGELES AIR WAS QUIET, and for a while I lay still, listening to the sound of Maxon’s breathing. It was getting harder and harder to catch him in a truly calm and happy moment, and I soaked up the time, grateful that he seemed to be at his best when he and I were alone.
Ever since the Selection had been narrowed down to six girls, he’d been more anxious than he was when the thirty-five of us arrived in the first place. I guessed he thought he’d have more time to make his choices. And though it made me feel guilty to admit it, I knew I was the reason why he wished he did.
Prince Maxon, heir to the Illéa throne, liked me. He’d told me a week ago that if I could simply say that I cared for him the way he did for me, without anything holding me back, this whole competition would be over. And sometimes I played with the idea, wondering how it would feel to be Maxon’s alone.
But the thing was, Maxon wasn’t really mine to begin with. There were five other girls here—girls he took on dates and whispered things to—and I didn’t know what to make of that. And then there was the fact that if I accepted Maxon, it meant I had to accept a crown, a thought I tended to ignore if only because I wasn’t sure what it would mean for me.
And, of course, there was Aspen.
He wasn’t technically my boyfriend anymore—he’d broken up with me before my name was even drawn for the Selection—but when he showed up at the palace as one of the guards, all the feelings I’d been trying to let go of flooded my heart. Aspen was my first love; when I looked at him … I was his.
Maxon didn’t know that Aspen was in the palace, but he did know that there was someone at home that I was trying to get over, and he was graciously giving me time to move on while attempting to find someone else he’d be happy with in the event I couldn’t ever love him.
As he moved his head, inhaling just above my hairline, I considered it. What would it be like to simply love Maxon?
“Do you know when the last time was that I really looked at the stars?” he asked.
I settled closer to him on our blanket, trying to keep warm in the cool Angeles night. “No idea.”
“A tutor had me studying astronomy a few years ago. If you look closely, you can tell that the stars are actually different colors.”
“Wait, the last time you looked at the stars was to study them? What about for fun?”
He chuckled. “Fun. I’ll have to pencil in some between the budget consultations and infrastructure committee meetings. Oh, and war strategizing, which, by the way, I am terrible at.”
“What else are you terrible at?” I asked, running my hand across his starched shirt. Encouraged by the touch, Maxon drew circles on my shoulder with the hand he had wrapped behind my back.
“Why would you want to know that?” he asked in mock irritation.
“Because I still know so little about you. And you seem perfect all the time. It’s nice to have proof you’re not.”
He propped himself up on an elbow, focusing on my face. “You know I’m not.”
“Pretty close,” I countered. Little flickers of touch ran between us. Knees, arms, fingers.
He shook his head, a small smile on his face. “Okay, then. I can’t plan wars. I’m rotten at it. And I’m guessing I’d be a terrible cook. I’ve never tried, so—”
“Never?”
“You might have noticed the teams of people keeping you up to your neck in pastries? They happen to feed me as well.”
I giggled. I helped cook practically every meal at home. “More,” I demanded. “What else are you bad at?”
He held me close, his brown eyes bright with a secret. “Recently I’ve discovered this one thing ….”
“Tell.”
“It turns out I’m absolutely terrible at staying away from you. It’s a very serious problem.”
I smiled. “Have you really tried?”
He pretended to think about it. “Well, no. And don’t expect me to start.”
We laughed quietly, holding on to each other. In these moments, it was so easy to picture this being the rest of my life.
The rustle of leaves and grass announced that someone was coming. Even though our date was completely acceptable, I felt a little embarrassed and sat up quickly. Maxon followed suit as a guard made his way around the hedge to us.
“Your Majesty,” he said with a bow. “Sorry to intrude, sir, but it’s really unwise to stay out this late for so long. The rebels could—”
“Understood,” Maxon said with a sigh. “We’ll be right in.”
The guard left us alone, and Maxon turned back to me. “Another fault of mine: I’m losing patience with the rebels. I’m tired of dealing with them.”
He stood and offered me his hand. I took it, watching the sad frustration in his eyes. We’d been attacked twice by the rebels since the start of the Selection—once by the simply disruptive Northerners and once by the deadly Southerners—and even with my brief experience, I could understand his exhaustion.
Maxon was picking up the blanket and shaking it out, clearly not happy that our night had been cut short.
“Hey,” I said, urging him to face me. “I had fun.”
He nodded.
“No, really,” I said, walking over to him. He moved the blanket to one hand to wrap his free arm around me. “We should do it again sometime. You can tell me which stars are which colors, because I seriously can’t tell.”
Maxon gave me a sad smile. “I wish things were easier sometimes, normal.”
I moved so I could wrap my arms around him, and as I did so, Maxon dropped the blanket to return the gesture. “I hate to break it to you, Your Majesty, but even without the guards, you’re far from normal.”
His expression lightened a bit but was still serious. “You’d like me more if I was.”
“I know you find it hard to believe, but I really do
like you the way you are. I just need more—”
“Time. I know. And I’m prepared to give you that. I only wish I knew that you’d actually want to be with me when that time was over.”
I looked away. That wasn’t something I could promise. I weighed Maxon and Aspen in my heart over and over, and neither of them ever had a true edge. Except, maybe, when I was alone with one of them. Because, at that moment, I was tempted to promise Maxon that I would be there for him in the end.
But I couldn’t.
“Maxon,” I whispered, seeing how dejected he looked at my lack of an answer. “I can’t tell you that. But what I can tell you is that I want to be here. I want to know if there’s a possibility for … for …” I stammered, not sure how to put it.
“Us?” Maxon guessed.
I smiled, happy at how easily he understood me. “Yes. I want to know if there’s a possibility for us to be an us.”
He moved a lock of hair behind my shoulder. “I think the odds are very high,” he said matter-of-factly.
“I think so, too. Just … time, okay?”
He nodded, looking happier. This was how I wanted to end our night, with hope. Well, and maybe one more thing. I bit my lip and leaned into Maxon, asking with my eyes.
Without a second of hesitation, he bent to kiss me. It was warm and gentle, and it left me feeling adored and somehow aching for more. I could have stayed there for hours, just to see if I could get enough of that feeling; but too soon, Maxon backed away.
“Let’s go,” he said in a playful tone, pulling me toward the palace. “Better get inside before the guards come for us on horseback with spears drawn.”
As Maxon left me at the stairs, the tiredness hit me like a wall. I was practically dragging myself up to the second floor and around the corner to my room when, suddenly, I was quite awake again.
“Oh!” Aspen said, surprised to see me, too. “I think it makes me the worst guard ever that I assumed you were in your room this whole time.”
I giggled. The Elite were supposed to sleep with at least one of their maids on watch in the night. I really didn’t like that, so Maxon insisted on stationing a guard by my room in case there was an emergency. The thing was, most of the time that guard was Aspen. It was a strange mix of exhilaration and terror knowing that nearly every night he was right outside my door.