by Kiera Cass
“What is?” I inquired, though I was sure she was referencing this very moment. I’d never experienced anything quite like this.
“This contest! The whole thing! Haven’t you ever loved anyone at all? Is this really how you want to pick a wife? Are you really so shallow?”
That stung. Shallow? I went to sit on the bench, so it would be easier to talk. I wanted this girl, whoever she was, to understand where I was coming from, what things looked like from my end. I tried not to get distracted by the curve of her waist and hip and leg, even the look of her bare foot.
“I can see how I would seem that way, how this whole thing could seem like it’s nothing more than cheap entertainment,” I said, nodding. “But in my world, I am very guarded. I don’t meet very many women. The ones I do are daughters of diplomats, and we usually have very little to discuss. And that’s when we manage to speak the same language.”
I smiled, thinking of the awkward moments when I had to sit through long dinners in silence next to young women who I was meant to entertain, and failing dismally because the translators were busy talking politics. I looked to the girl, expecting her to laugh along with me for my trouble. When her tight lips refused to smile, I cleared my throat and moved on.
“Circumstances being what they are,” I said, fidgeting with my hands, “I haven’t had the opportunity to fall in love.” She seemed to forget I wasn’t really allowed to until now. Then I was curious. Hoping I wasn’t alone, I voiced my most intimate question. “Have you?”
“Yes,” she said. She sounded both proud and sad in a single word.
“Then you have been quite lucky.”
I looked at the grass for a moment. I continued on, not wanting to linger on my rather embarrassing lack of experience.
“My mother and father were married this way and are quite happy. I hope to find happiness, too. To find a woman who all of Illéa can love, someone to be my companion and to help entertain the leaders of other nations. Someone who will befriend my friends and be my confidante. I’m ready to find my wife.”
Even I could hear the desperation, the hope, the longing. The doubt crept back in. What if no one here could love me?
No, I told myself, this will be a good thing.
I looked down at this girl, who seemed desperate in her own way. “Do you really feel like this is a cage?”
“Yes, I do,” she breathed. Then, a second later, “Your Majesty.”
I laughed. “I’ve felt that way more than once myself. But, you must admit, it is a very beautiful cage.”
“For you,” she shot back skeptically. “Fill your beautiful cage with thirty-four other men all fighting over the same thing. See how nice it is then.”
“Have there really been arguments over me? Don’t you all realize I’m the one doing the choosing?” I didn’t know whether to feel excited or worried, but it was interesting to think about. Maybe if someone really wanted me that much, I’d want them, too.
“Actually, that was unfair,” she added. “They’re fighting over two things. Some fight for you; others fight for the crown. And they all think they’ve already figured out what to say and do so your choice will be obvious.”
“Ah, yes. The man or the crown. I’m afraid some cannot tell the difference.” I shook my head and stared into the grass.
“Good luck there,” she said comically.
But there was nothing comical about it. Here was another one of my biggest fears being confirmed. Again my curiosity overwhelmed me, though I was sure she would lie.
“Which do you fight for?”
“Actually, I’m here by mistake.”
“Mistake?” How was that possible? If she put her name in, and it was drawn, and she willingly came here . . .
“Yes. I sort of—well, it’s a long story,” she said. I would have to learn what that was all about eventually. “And now . . . I’m here. And I’m not fighting. My plan is to enjoy the food until you kick me out.”
I couldn’t help myself. I burst out laughing. This girl was the antithesis of everything I’d been expecting. Waiting to be kicked out? Here for the food? I was, surprisingly, enjoying this. Maybe it would all be as simple as Mom said it would be, and I could get to know the candidates over time, like I did with Daphne.
“What are you?” I asked. She couldn’t be more than a Four if she was so excited about the food.
“I’m sorry?” she asked, not catching my meaning.
I didn’t want to be insulting, so I started high. “A Two? Three?”
“Five.”
So this was one of the Fives. I knew Father wouldn’t be thrilled about me being friendly with her, but after all, he was the one who let her in. “Ah, yes, then food would probably be good motivation to stay.” I chuckled again, and tried to find out the name of this entertaining young woman. “I’m sorry, I can’t read your pin in the dark.”
She gave a slight shake of her head. If she asked why I didn’t know her name yet I wondered which would sound better: a lie—that I had far too much work to do to put them to memory at the moment—or the truth—that I was so nervous about all this, I’d been putting it off until the last second.
Which I suddenly realized I’d just passed.
“I’m America.”
“Well, that’s perfect,” I said with a laugh. Based on her name alone, I couldn’t believe she’d made the cut. That was the name of the old country, a stubborn and flawed land we rebuilt into something strong. Then again, maybe that was why Father let her in: to show he had no fear or worries about our past, even if the rebels clung to it foolishly.
For me, there was something musical about the word. “America, my dear, I do hope you find something in this cage worth fighting for. After all this, I can only imagine what it would be like to see you actually try.”
I left the bench and knelt beside her, taking her hand. She was looking at our fingers and not into my eyes, and thank goodness for that. If she were, she’d have seen how absolutely floored I was the first time I finally, truly saw her. The clouds moved at just the right moment, fully lighting her face by the moon. As if it weren’t enough that she was willing to stand up to me and clearly unafraid to be herself, she was dazzlingly beautiful.
Underneath thick lashes were eyes blue as ice, something cool to balance out the flames in her hair. Her cheeks were smooth and slightly blushed from crying. And her lips, soft and pink, slightly parted as she studied our hands.
I felt a strange flutter in my chest, like the glow of a fireplace or the warmth of the afternoon. It stayed there for a moment, playing with my pulse.
I mentally chastised myself. How typical to become so infatuated with the first girl I was ever allowed to actually have any sort of feelings for. It was foolish, too quick to be real, and I pushed the warmth away. All the same, I didn’t want to dismiss her. Time might prove that she was someone worth having in the running. America was clearly someone I’d need to win over, and that might take time. But I would start right now.
“If it would make you happy, I could let the staff know you prefer the garden. Then you can come out here at night without being manhandled by the guard. I would prefer if you had one nearby, though.” No need to worry her with just how often we were attacked. So long as a guard was close, she should be fine.
“I don’t . . . I don’t think I want anything from you.” She gently pulled her hand away and looked at the grass.
“As you wish.” I was a little disappointed. What horrible thing had I done to make her push me away? Maybe this girl was unwinnable. “Will you be heading inside soon?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Then I’ll leave you with your thoughts. There will be a guard near the door waiting for you.” I wanted her to take her time, but I dreaded some unexpected assault hurting any of the girls, even this girl who seemed to have developed a serious distaste for me.
“Thank you, um, Your Majesty.” I heard a sort of vulnerability in her voice, and realized that
maybe it wasn’t me. Maybe she was just overwhelmed by everything that was happening to her. How could I blame her for that? I decided to risk rejection again.
“Dear America, will you do me a favor?” I took her hand once more, and she looked up to me with a skeptical face. There was something about those eyes on me, like she was searching for truth in mine and would have it at all costs.
“Maybe.”
Her tone gave me hope, and I grinned. “Don’t mention this to the others. Technically, I’m not supposed to meet you until tomorrow, and I don’t want anyone getting upset.” I gave a light snort, and I immediately wished I could take it back. Sometimes I had the worst laugh. “Though I wouldn’t call you yelling at me anything close to a romantic tryst, would you?”
Finally America gave me a playful smirk. “Not at all!” She paused and let out a breath. “I won’t tell.”
“Thank you.” I should have been happy enough with her smile, should have walked away at that. But something in me—perhaps being raised to always push forward, to succeed—urged me to take one step more. I pulled her hand to my lips and kissed it. “Good night.” I left before she had a chance to chastise me or I had an opportunity to do anything else stupid.
I wanted to look back and see her expression, but if it was something in the area of disgust, I didn’t think I could bear it. If Father could read my thoughts right now, he’d be less than pleased. By now, after everything, I ought to be tougher than this.
When I got to the doors, I turned to the guards. “She needs a moment. If she’s not in within half an hour, kindly urge her to come inside.” I met both of their eyes, making sure they grasped the concept. “It would also behoove you to refrain from mentioning this to anyone. Understood?”
They nodded, and I made my way to the main stairwell. As I walked I heard one guard whisper, “What’s behoove?”
I rolled my eyes and continued up the stairs. Once I made it to the third floor, I practically ran to my room. I had a huge balcony that overlooked the gardens. I wasn’t going to step outside and let her know I was watching, but I did go to the window and pull back the curtain.
She stayed maybe ten minutes or so, seeming calmer by the minute. I watched as she wiped her face, brushed off her nightgown, and headed inside. I debated hopping into the hallway on the second floor so we could accidentally-on-purpose meet again. But I thought better of it. She was upset tonight, probably not herself. If I was going to have a chance at all, I’d have to wait until tomorrow.
Tomorrow . . . when thirty-four other girls would be placed before me. Oh, I was an idiot to wait so long. I went to my desk and dug out the stack of files about the girls, studying their pictures. I didn’t know whose idea it was to put the names on the back, but that was far less than helpful. I grabbed a pen and transcribed the names to the front. Hannah, Anna . . . how was I supposed to keep that straight? Jenna, Janelle, and Camille . . . seriously? That was going to be a disaster. I had to learn at least a few. Then I’d just rely on the pins until I got the names straight.
Because I could do this. I could do it well. I had to. I had to prove, finally, that I could lead, make decisions. How else would anyone trust me as their king? How would the king himself trust me at all?
I focused on standouts. Celeste . . . I remembered the name. One of my advisors had mentioned she was a model and showed me a picture of her in a bathing suit on the glossy pages of a magazine. She was probably the sexiest candidate, and I certainly wouldn’t hold that against her. Lyssa jumped out at me, but not in a good way. Unless she had a winning personality, she wasn’t even in the running. Maybe that was a bit shallow, but was it so bad that I wanted someone attractive? Ah, Elise. Based on the exotic slant of her eyes, she was the girl Father had mentioned who had family in New Asia. She’d be in the running on that alone.
America.
I studied her picture. Her smile was absolutely radiant.
What made her smile so brightly, then? Was it me? Had whatever she felt for me that day passed? She didn’t seem very happy to meet me. But . . . she did smile in the end.
Tomorrow I would have to start fresh with her. I wasn’t sure of what I was looking for, but so much of what seemed right was staring back at me in that photograph. Maybe it was her will or her honesty, maybe it was the soft skin on the back of her hand or her perfume . . . but I knew, with a singular clarity, that I wanted her to like me.
How exactly was I supposed to do that?
CHAPTER 6
I HELD THE BLUE TIE up. No. The tan? No. Was I going to have this much trouble getting dressed every day?
I wanted to make a good first impression with these girls—and a good second impression with one—and apparently I was convinced this all hung on picking out the right tie. I sighed. These girls were already turning me into a puddle of stupid.
I tried to follow my mother’s advice and be myself, flaws and all. Going with the first tie I’d picked up, I finished getting dressed and smoothed my hair back.
I walked out the door and found my parents by the stairwell having a hushed conversation. I debated taking a back route, not wanting to interrupt them, but my mother waved me over.
Once I reached them, she started tugging on my sleeves, then moved to my back to smooth my coat. “Remember,” she said, “they’re swarming with nerves, and the thing to do right now is make them feel at home.”
“Act like a prince,” Father urged. “Remember who you are.”
“There’s no rush to make a decision.” Mom touched my tie. “That’s a nice one.”
“But don’t keep anyone around if you know you don’t want them. The sooner we get to the true candidates, the better.”
“Be polite.”
“Be confident.”
“Just talk.”
Father sighed. “This isn’t a joke. Remember that.”
Mom held me at arm’s length. “You’re going to be fantastic.” She pulled me in for a big hug, and backed away to restraighten everything.
“All right, son. Go on,” Father said, gesturing to the stairs.
“We’ll be waiting in the dining hall.”
I felt dizzy. “Um, yes. Thank you.”
I paused for a minute to catch my breath. I knew they were trying to help, but they’d managed to throw off any sense of calm I’d built. I reminded myself that this was just me saying hello, that the girls were hoping this would work out as much as I was.
And then I remembered that I was going to get to speak to America again. At the very least, that should be entertaining. With that in mind I breezed down the stairs to the first floor and made my way to the Great Room. I took one deep breath and gave a knock on the door before pulling it open.
There, past the guards, waited the collection of girls. Cameras flashed, capturing both their reaction and mine. I smiled at their hopeful faces, feeling calmer just because they all looked so pleased to be here.
“Your Majesty.” I turned and caught Silvia coming up from her curtsy. I nearly forgot that she would be there, instructing them in protocol the way she instructed me when I was younger.
“Hello, Silvia. If you don’t mind, I would like to introduce myself to these young women.”
“Of course,” she said breathlessly, bending again. She could be so dramatic sometimes.
I surveyed the faces, looking for the flame of her hair. It took a moment, as I was a bit distracted by the light glinting off nearly every wrist, ear, and neck in the room. I finally found her, a few rows in on the end, looking at me with a different expression than the others. I smiled, but instead of smiling back, she looked confused.
“Ladies, if you don’t mind,” I started, “one at a time, I’ll be calling you over to meet with me. I’m sure you’re all eager to eat, as am I. So I won’t take up too much of your time. Do forgive me if I’m slow with names; there are quite a few of you.”
Some of the girls giggled, and I was happy to realize I could identify more of them than I thought I would. I
went to the young lady in the front corner, and extended my hand. She took it enthusiastically, and we walked over to the couches that I knew would be set up specifically for this purpose.
Sadly, Lyssa was no more attractive in person than she was in her picture. Still, she deserved the benefit of the doubt, so we spoke all the same.
“Good morning, Lyssa.”
“Good morning, Your Majesty.” She smiled so widely, it looked like it must hurt her to do so.
“How are you finding the palace?”
“It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. It’s really beautiful here. Gosh, I already said that, didn’t I?”
I answered with a smile. “It’s quite all right. I’m glad you’re so pleased. What do you do at home?”
“I’m a Five. My whole family works exclusively in sculpting. You have some incredible pieces here. Really beautiful.”
I tried to seem interested, but she didn’t engage me at all. Still, what if I passed on someone for no good reason?
“Thank you. Um, how many siblings do you have?”
After a few minutes of conversation in which she used the word beautiful no less than twelve times, I knew that there was nothing else I wanted to know about this girl.
It was time for me to move on, but it seemed so cruel to keep her here knowing there was no chance for us. I decided that I was going to start making cuts here and now. It would be kinder to the girls, and maybe also impress Father. After all, he did say he wanted me to make some real choices in my life.
“Lyssa, thank you so much for your time. Once I’m done with everyone, would you mind staying a little longer so I could speak with you?”
She blushed. “Absolutely.”
We rose, and I felt awful knowing that she assumed that request meant something it didn’t. “Would you please send the next young lady over?”
She nodded and curtsied before she went to get the girl beside her, who I recognized immediately as Celeste Newsome. It would take a dim man indeed to forget that face.