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The Heir
Kiera Cass


Kiera Cass's Number 1 New York Times bestselling Selection series has enchanted readers from the very first page. In this fourth romantic novel, follow Illéa's royal family into a whole new Selection - and find out what happens after happily ever after.Kiera Cass’s #1 New York Times bestselling Selection series has enchanted readers from the very first page. In this fourth romantic novel, follow Illéa’s royal family into a whole new Selection—and find out what happens after happily ever after.Eighteen years ago, America Singer entered the Selection and won Prince Maxon’s heart. Now the time has come for Princess Eadlyn to hold a Selection of her own. Eadlyn doesn’t expect her Selection to be anything like her parents’ fairy-tale love story…but as the competition begins, she may discover that finding her own happily ever after isn’t as impossible as she’s always thought.A new generation of swoonworthy characters and captivating romance awaits in the fourth book of the Selection series!























Copyright (#ua1953be8-3c49-5a67-8d25-d5d53ce5ad96)


First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2015

HarperCollins Children’s Books is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk)

The Heir

Copyright © 2015 by Kiera Cass

Covert art © Gustavo Marx / Merge Left Reps, INC, 2015

Kiera Cass asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, 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.

Source ISBN: 9780007580224

Ebook Edition © 2015 ISBN: 9780007580231

Version: 2015-12-09


To Jim and Jennie Cass.

For lots of reasons, but mostly for making Callaway.


Contents

Cover (#uc3b95618-85b4-5bcb-afc3-71fad4c03478)

Title Page (#uadf4abf5-7081-5ba1-9493-68669f2b2215)

Copyright

Dedication (#u050778cf-8601-5d81-922f-0df2fb839ec0)

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

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Acknowledgments

Also by Kiera Cass

About the Publisher







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I COULD NOT HOLD MY breath for seven minutes. I couldn’t even make it to one. I once tried to run a mile in seven minutes after hearing some athletes could do it in four but failed spectacularly when a side stitch crippled me about halfway in.

However, there was one thing I managed to do in seven minutes that most would say is quite impressive: I became queen.

By seven tiny minutes I beat my brother Ahren into the world, so the throne that ought to have been his was mine. Had I been born a generation earlier, it wouldn’t have mattered. Ahren was the male, so Ahren would have been the heir.

Alas, Mom and Dad couldn’t stand to watch their firstborn be stripped of a title by an unfortunate but rather lovely set of breasts. So they changed the law, and the people rejoiced, and I was trained day by day to become the next ruler of Illéa.

What they didn’t understand was that their attempts to make my life fair seemed rather unfair to me.

I tried not to complain. After all, I knew how fortunate I was. But there were days, or sometimes months, when it felt like far too much was piled on me, too much for any one person, really.

I flipped through the newspaper and saw that there had been yet another riot, this time in Zuni. Twenty years ago, Dad’s first act as king was to dissolve the castes, and the old system had been phased out slowly over my lifetime. I still thought it was completely bizarre that once upon a time people lived with these limiting but arbitrary labels on their backs. Mom was a Five; Dad was a One. It made no sense, especially since there was no outward sign of the divisions. How was I supposed to know if I was walking next to a Six or a Three? And why did that even matter?

When Dad had first decreed that the castes were no more, people all over the country had been delighted. Dad had expected the changes he was making in Illéa to be comfortably in place over the course of a generation, meaning any day now everything should click.

That wasn’t happening—and this new riot was just the most recent in a string of unrest.

“Coffee, Your Highness,” Neena said, setting the drink on my table.

“Thank you. You can take the plates.”

I scanned the article. This time a restaurant was burned to the ground because its owner refused to promote a waiter to a position as a chef. The waiter claimed that a promotion had been promised but was never delivered, and he was sure it was because of his family’s past.

Looking at the charred remains of the building, I honestly didn’t know whose side I was on. The owner had the right to promote or fire anyone he wanted, and the waiter had the right not to be seen as something that, technically, didn’t exist anymore.

I pushed the paper away and picked up my drink. Dad was going to be upset. I was sure he was already running the scenario over and over in his head, trying to figure out how to set it right. The problem was, even if we could fix one issue, we couldn’t stop every instance of post-caste discrimination. It was too hard to monitor and happening far too often.

I set down my coffee and headed to my closet. It was time to start the day.

“Neena,” I called. “Do you know where that plum-colored dress is? The one with the sash?”

She squinted in concentration as she came over to help.

In the grand scheme of things, Neena was new to the palace. She’d only been working with me for six months, after my last maid fell ill for two weeks. Neena was acutely attuned to my needs and much more agreeable to be around, so I kept her on. I also admired her eye for fashion.

Neena stared into the massive space. “Maybe we should reorganize.”

“You can if you have the time. That’s not a project I’m interested in.”

“Not when I can hunt down your clothes for you,” she teased.

“Exactly!”

She took my humor in stride, laughing as she quickly sorted through gowns and pants.

“I like your hair today,” I commented.

“Thank you.” All the maids wore caps, but Neena was still creative with her hairdos. Sometimes a few thick, black curls would frame her face, and other times she twisted back strands until they were all tucked away. At the moment there were wide braids encircling her head, with the rest of her hair under her cap. I really enjoyed that she found ways to work with her uniform, to make it her own each day.

“Ah! It’s back here.” Neena pulled down the knee-length dress, fanning it out across the dark skin of her arm.

“Perfect! And do you know where my gray blazer is? The one with the three-quarter sleeves?”

She stared at me, her face deadpan. “I’m definitely rearranging.”

I giggled. “You search; I’ll dress.”

I pulled on my outfit and brushed out my hair, preparing for another day as the future face of the monarchy. The outfit was feminine enough to soften me but strong enough that I’d be taken seriously. It was a fine line to walk, but I did it every day.

Staring into the mirror, I talked to my reflection.

“You are Eadlyn Schreave. You are the next person in line to run this country, and you will be the first girl to do it on your own. No one,” I said, “is as powerful as you.”

Dad was already in his office, brow furrowed as he took in the news. Other than my eyes, I didn’t look much like him. Or Mom, for that matter.

With my dark hair, oval-shaped face, and a hint of a tan that lingered year round, I looked more like my grandmother than anyone else. A painting of her on her coronation day hung in the fourth-floor hallway, and I used to study it when I was younger, trying to guess at how I would look as I grew. Her age in the portrait was near to mine now, and though we weren’t identical, I sometimes felt like her echo.

I walked across the room and kissed Dad’s cheek. “Morning.”

“Morning. Did you see the papers?” he asked.

“Yes. At least no one died this time.”

“Thank goodness for that.” Those were the worst, the ones where people were left dead in the street or went missing. It was terrible, reading the names of young men who’d been beaten simply for moving their families into a nicer neighborhood or women who were attacked for trying to get a job that in the past would not have been open to them.

Sometimes it took no time at all to find the motive and the person behind these crimes, but more often than not we were faced with a lot of finger-pointing and no real answers. It was exhausting for me to watch, and I knew it was worse for Dad.

“I don’t understand it.” He took off his reading glasses and rubbed his eyes. “They didn’t want the castes anymore. We took our time, eliminated them slowly so everyone could adjust. Now they’re burning down buildings.”

“Is there a way to regulate this? Could we create a board to oversee grievances?” I looked at the photo again. In the corner, the young son of the restaurant owner wept over losing everything. In my heart I knew complaints would come in faster than anyone could address them, but I also knew Dad couldn’t bear doing nothing.

Dad looked at me. “Is that what you would do?”

I smiled. “No, I’d ask my father what he would do.”

He sighed. “That won’t always be an option for you, Eadlyn. You need to be strong, decisive. How would you fix this one particular incident?”

I considered. “I don’t think we can. There’s no way to prove the old castes were why the waiter was denied the promotion. The only thing we can do is launch an investigation into who set the fire. That family lost their livelihood today, and someone needs to be held responsible. Arson is not how you exact justice.”

He shook his head at the paper. “I think you’re right. I’d like to be able to help them. But, more than that, we need to figure out how to prevent this from happening again. It’s become rampant, Eadlyn, and it’s frightening.”

Dad tossed the paper into the trash, then stood and walked to the window. I could read the stress in his posture. Sometimes his role brought him so much joy, like visiting the schools he’d worked tirelessly to improve or seeing communities flourish in the war-free era he’d ushered in. But those instances were becoming few and far between. Most days he was anxious about the state of the country, and he had to fake his smiles when reporters came by, hoping that his sense of calm would somehow spread to everyone else. Mom helped shoulder the burden, but at the end of the day the fate of the country was placed squarely on his back. One day it would be on mine.

Vain as it was, I worried I would go gray prematurely.

“Make a note for me, Eadlyn. Remind me to write Governor Harpen in Zuni. Oh, and put to write it to Joshua Harpen, not his father. I keep forgetting he was the one who ran in the last election.”

I wrote his instructions in my elegant cursive, thinking how pleased Dad would be when he looked at it later. He used to give me the worst time over my penmanship.

I was grinning to myself when I looked back at him, but my face fell almost immediately when I saw him rubbing his forehead, trying so desperately to think of a solution to these problems.

“Dad?”

He turned and instinctively squared his shoulders, like he needed to act strong even in front of me.

“Why do you think this is happening? It wasn’t always like this.”

He raised his eyebrows. “It certainly wasn’t,” he said, almost to himself. “At first everyone seemed pleased. Every time we removed a new caste, people held parties. It’s only been in the last few years, since all the labels have officially been erased, that it’s gone downhill.”

He stared back out the window. “The only thing I can think is that those who grew up with the castes are aware of how much better this is. Comparatively, it’s easier to marry or work. A family’s finances aren’t capped by a single profession. There are more choices when it comes to education. But those who are growing up without the castes and are still running into opposition … I guess they don’t know what else to do.”

He looked at me and shrugged. “I need time,” he muttered. “I need a way to put things on pause, set them right, and press play again.”

I noted the deep furrow in his brow. “Dad, I don’t think that’s possible.”

He chuckled. “We’ve done it before. I can remember …”

The focus in his eyes changed. He watched me for a moment, seeming to ask me a question without words.

“Dad?”

“Yes.”

“Are you all right?”

He blinked a few times. “Yes, dear, quite all right. Why don’t you get to work on those budget cuts. We can go over your ideas this afternoon. I need to speak with your mother.”

“Sure.” Math wasn’t a skill that came to me naturally, so I had to work twice as long on any proposals for budget cuts or financial plans. But I absolutely refused to have one of Dad’s advisers come behind me with a calculator to clean up my mess. Even if I had to stay up all night, I always made sure my work was accurate.

Of course, Ahren was naturally good at math, but he was never forced to sit through meetings about budgets or rezoning or health care. He got off scot-free by seven stupid minutes.

Dad patted me on the shoulder before dashing out of the room. It took me longer than usual to focus on the numbers. I couldn’t help but be distracted by the look on his face and the unmistakable certainty that it was tied to me.







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AFTER WORKING ON THE BUDGET report for a few hours, I decided I needed a break and retreated to my room to get a hand massage from Neena. I loved those little bits of luxury in my day. Dresses made to my exact measurements, exotic desserts flown in simply because it was Thursday, and an endless supply of beautiful things were all perks; and they were easily my favorite parts of the job.

My room overlooked the gardens. As the day shifted, the light changed to a warm, honey color, brightening the high walls. I focused on the heat and Neena’s deliberate fingers.

“Anyway, his face got all funny. It was kind of like he disappeared for a minute.”

I was trying to explain Dad’s out-of-character departure this morning, but it was hard to get it across. I didn’t even know if he found Mom or not, as he never came back to the office.

“Do you think he’s sick? He does seem tired these days.” Neena’s hands worked her magic as she spoke.

“Does he?” I asked, thinking that Dad didn’t seem tired exactly. “He’s probably just stressed. How could he not be with all the decisions he has to make?”

“And someday that will be you,” she commented, her tone a mix of genuine worry and playful amusement.

“Which means you will be giving me twice as many massages.”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I think in a few years I might like to try something new.”

I scrunched my face. “What else would you do? There aren’t many positions better than working in the palace.”

There was a knock on the door, and she didn’t have a chance to answer the question.

I stood, throwing my blazer back on to look presentable, and gave a nod to Neena to let my guests in.

Mom came around the door, smiling, with Dad contentedly trailing her steps. I couldn’t help but notice it was always this way. At state events or important dinners, Mom was beside Dad or situated right behind him. But when they were just husband and wife—not king and queen—he followed her everywhere.

“Hi, Mom.” I walked over to hug her.

Mom tucked my hair behind my ear, smiling at me. “I like this look.”

I stood back proudly and smoothed out my dress with my hands. “The bracelets really set it off, don’t you think?”

She giggled. “Excellent attention to detail.” Every once in a while Mom let me pick out jewelry or shoes for her, but it was rare. Mom didn’t find it as much fun as I did, and she didn’t rely on the extras for beauty. In her case, she really didn’t need it. I liked that she was classic.

Mom turned and touched Neena’s shoulder. “You’re excused,” she said quietly.

Neena instantly curtsied and left us alone.

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

“No, sweetheart. We simply want to speak in private.” Dad held out a hand and ushered us all to the table. “We have an opportunity to talk to you about.”

“Opportunity? Are we traveling?” I adored traveling. “Please tell me we’re finally going on a beach trip. Could it just be the six of us?”

“Not exactly. We wouldn’t be going somewhere so much as having visitors,” Mom explained.

“Oh! Company! Who’s coming?”

They exchanged glances, then Mom continued talking. “You know that things are precarious right now. The people are restless and unhappy, and we cannot figure out how to ease the tension.”

I sighed. “I know.”

“We’re seeking a way to boost morale,” Dad added.

I perked up. Morale boosting typically involved a celebration. And I was always up for a party.

“What did you have in mind?” I started designing a new dress in my head and dismissed it almost as quickly. That wasn’t what needed my attention at the moment.

“Well,” Dad started, “the public responds best to something positive with our family. When your mother and I were married, it was one of the best seasons in our country. And do you remember how people threw parties in the street when they found out Osten was coming?”

I smiled. I was eight when Osten was born, and I’d never forget how excited everyone got just over the announcement. I heard music playing from my bedroom practically until dawn.

“That was marvelous.”

“It was. And now the people look to you. It won’t be long before you’re queen.” Dad paused. “We thought that perhaps you’d be willing to do something publicly, something that would be exciting for the people but also might be very beneficial to you.”

I narrowed my eyes, not sure where this was going. “I’m listening.”

Mom cleared her throat. “You know that in the past, princesses were married off to princes from other countries to solidify our international relations.”

“I did hear you use the past tense there, correct?”

She laughed, but I wasn’t amused. “Yes.”

“Good. Because Prince Nathaniel looks like a zombie, Prince Hector dances like a zombie, and if the prince from the German Federation doesn’t learn to embrace personal hygiene by the Christmas party, he shouldn’t be invited.”

Mom rubbed the side of her head in frustration. “Eadlyn, you’ve always been so picky.”

Dad shrugged. “Maybe that’s not a bad thing,” he said, earning a glare from Mom.

I frowned. “What in the world are you talking about?”

“You know how your mother and I met,” Dad began.

I rolled my eyes. “Everyone does. You two are practically a fairy tale.”

At those words their eyes went soft, and smiles washed over their faces. Their bodies seemed to tilt slightly toward each other, and Dad bit his lip looking at Mom.

“Excuse me. Firstborn in the room, do you mind?”

Mom blushed as Dad cleared his throat and continued. “The Selection process was very successful for us. And though my parents had their problems, it worked well for them, too. So … we were hoping …” He hesitated and met my eyes.

I was slow to pick up on their hints. I knew what the Selection was, but never, not even once, had it been suggested as an option for any of us, let alone me.

“No.”

Mom put up her hands, cautioning me. “Just listen—”

“A Selection?” I burst out. “That’s insane!”

“Eadlyn, you’re being irrational.”

I glared at her. “You promised—you promised—you’d never force me into marrying someone for an alliance. How is this any better?”

“Hear us out,” she urged.

“No!” I shouted. “I won’t do it.”

“Calm down, love.”

“Don’t talk to me like that. I’m not a child!”

Mom sighed. “You’re certainly acting like one.”

“You’re ruining my life!” I ran my fingers through my hair and took several deep breaths, hoping it would help me think. This couldn’t happen. Not to me.

“It’s a huge opportunity,” Dad insisted.

“You’re trying to shackle me to a stranger!”

“I told you she’d be stubborn,” Mom muttered to Dad.

“Wonder where she gets that from,” he shot back with a smile.

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not in the room!”

“I’m sorry,” Dad said. “We just need you to consider this.”

“What about Ahren? Can’t he do it?”

“Ahren isn’t going to be the future king. Besides, he has Camille.”

Princess Camille was the heir to the French throne, and a few years ago she’d managed to bat her lashes all the way into Ahren’s heart.

“Then make them get married!” I pleaded.

“Camille will be queen when her time comes, and she, like you, will have to ask her partner to marry her. If it was Ahren’s choice, we’d consider it; but it’s not.”

“What about Kaden? Can’t you have him do it?”

Mom laughed humorlessly. “He’s fourteen! We don’t have that kind of time. The people need something to be excited about now.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “And, honestly, isn’t it time you look for someone to rule beside you?”

Dad nodded. “It’s true. It’s not a role that should be shouldered alone.”

“But I don’t want to get married,” I pleaded. “Please don’t make me do this. I’m only eighteen.”

“Which is how old I was when I married your father,” Mom stated.

“I’m not ready,” I urged. “I don’t want a husband. Please don’t do this to me.”

Mom reached across the table and put her hand on mine. “No one would be doing anything to you. You would be doing something for your people. You’d be giving them a gift.”

“You mean faking a smile when I’d rather cry?”

She gave me a fleeting frown. “That has always been part of our job.”

I stared at her, silently demanding a better answer.

“Eadlyn, why don’t you take some time to think this over?” Dad said calmly. “I know this is a big thing we’re asking of you.”

“Does that mean I have a choice?”

Dad inhaled deeply, considering. “Well, love, you’ll really have thirty-five choices.”

I leaped up from my chair, pointing toward the door.

“Get out!” I demanded. “Get! Out!”

Without another word they left my room.

Didn’t they know who I was, what they’d trained me for? I was Eadlyn Schreave. No one was more powerful than me.

So if they thought I was going down without a fight, they were sadly mistaken.







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I DECIDED TO TAKE DINNER in my room. I didn’t feel like seeing my family at the moment. I was irate with all of them. At my parents for being happy, at Ahren for not picking up the pace eighteen years ago, at Kaden and Osten for being so young.

Neena circled me, filling my cup as she spoke. “Do you think you’ll go through with it, miss?” she asked.

“I’m still trying to figure a way out.”

“What if you said you were already in love with somebody?”

I shook my head as I poked at my food. “I insulted my three most likely candidates right in front of them.”

She set a small plate of chocolates in the middle of the table, guessing correctly that I’d probably want those more than the caviar-garnished salmon.

“Perhaps a guard then? Happens to the maids often enough,” she suggested with a giggle.

I scoffed. “That’s fine for them, but I’m not that desperate.”

Her laughter faded.

I saw immediately that I had offended her, but that was the truth. I couldn’t settle for any old person, let alone a guard. Even considering it was a waste of time. I needed a way out of this whole situation.

“I don’t mean it like that, Neena. It’s just that people expect certain things from me.”

“Of course.”

“I’m done. You can go for the night; I’ll leave the cart in the hallway.”

She nodded and left without another word.

I grazed on the chocolates before completely giving up on the food and slipped into my nightgown. I couldn’t reason with Mom and Dad right now, and Neena didn’t understand. I needed to talk to the only person who might see my side, the person who sometimes felt like he was half of me. I needed Ahren.

“Are you busy?” I asked, cracking open his door.

Ahren was sitting at his desk, writing. His blond hair was end-of-the-day messy, but his eyes were far from tired, and he looked so much like the pictures of Dad when he was younger it was eerie. He was still dressed from dinner but had taken off his coat and tie, settling in for the evening. “Knock, for goodness’ sake.”

“I know, I know; but it’s an emergency.”

“Then get a guard,” he snapped back, returning to his papers.

“That’s already been suggested,” I muttered to myself. “I’m serious, Ahren; I need your help.”

Ahren peeked over his shoulder at me, and I could see he was already planning to give in. He used his foot to push out the seat next to him casually. “Step into my office.”

Sitting, I sighed. “What are you writing?”

He quickly piled papers on top of the one he’d been working on. “A letter to Camille.”

“You know you could simply phone her.”

He grinned. “Oh, I will. But then I’ll send her this, too.”

“That makes no sense. What could you possibly have to talk about that would fill an entire phone call and a letter?”

He tilted his head. “For your information, they serve different purposes. The calls are for updates and to see how her day went. The letters are for the things I can’t always say out loud.”

“Oh, really?” I leaned over, reaching for the paper.

Before I could even get close, Ahren’s hand gripped my wrist. “I will murder you,” he vowed.

“Good,” I shot. “Then you can be the heir, and you can go through a Selection and kiss your precious Camille good-bye.”

He scrunched his forehead. “What?”

I slumped back into my chair. “Mom and Dad need to boost morale. They’ve decided that, for the sake of Illéa,” I said in mock patriotism, “I need to go through a Selection.”

I was expecting abject horror. Perhaps a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. But Ahren threw back his head and laughed.

“Ahren!”

He continued to howl, pitching himself forward and hitting his knee.

“You’re going to wrinkle your suit,” I warned, which only made him laugh harder. “For goodness’ sake, stop it! What am I supposed to do?”

“As if I know! I can’t believe they think this would even work,” he added, his smile still not fading.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I thought, if you ever did get married, it’d be down the line. I think everyone assumed that.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

The warm touch I’d been hoping for finally came as he reached for my hand. “Come on, Eady. You’ve always been independent. It’s the queen in you. You like to be in charge, do things on your own. I didn’t think you’d partner up with anyone until you at least got to reign for a while.”

“Not like I really had a choice in the first place,” I mumbled, tilting my head to the floor but still looking to my brother.

He gave me a little pout. “Poor little princess. Don’t want to rule the world?”

I swatted his hand away. “Seven minutes. It should have been you. I’d much rather sit alone and scribble away instead of do all that stupid paperwork. And this ridiculous Selection nonsense! Can’t you see how dreadful this is?”

“How did you get roped into this anyway? I thought they’d done away with it.”

I rolled my eyes again. “It has absolutely nothing to do with me. That’s the worst part. Dad’s facing public opposition, so he’s trying to distract them.” I shook my head. “It’s getting really bad, Ahren. People are destroying homes and businesses. Some have died. Dad isn’t completely sure where it’s coming from, but he thinks it’s people our age, the generation that grew up without castes, causing most of it.”

He made a face. “That doesn’t make sense. How could growing up without those restrictions make you upset?”

I paused, thinking. How could I explain what we could only really guess at? “Well, I grew up being told I was going to be queen one day. That was it. No choice. You grew up knowing you had options. You could go into the military, you could become an ambassador, you could do plenty of things. But what if that wasn’t really happening? What if you didn’t have all the opportunities you thought you would?”

“Huh,” he said, following. “So they’re being denied jobs?”

“Jobs, education, money. I’ve heard of people refusing to let their kids get married because of old castes. Nothing is happening the way Dad thought it would, and it’s nearly impossible to control. Can we force people to be fair?”

“And that’s what Dad’s trying to figure out now?” he asked, skeptical.

“Yes, and I’m the smoke-and-mirror act diverting their attention while he comes up with a plan.”

He chuckled. “That makes much more sense than you suddenly being romantically inclined.”

I cocked my head. “Let it go, Ahren. So I’m not interested in marriage. Why does that matter? Other women can stay single.”

“But other women aren’t expected to produce an heir.”

I hit him again. “Help me! What do I do?”

His eyes searched mine, and I knew, as easily as I could read any emotion in him, that he saw I was terrified. Not irritated or angry. Not outraged or repulsed.

I was scared.

It was one thing to be expected to rule, to hold the weight of millions of people in my hands. That was a job, a task. I could check things off lists, delegate. But this was much more personal, one more piece of my life that ought to be mine but wasn’t.

His playful smile disappeared, and he pulled his chair closer to mine. “If they’re looking to distract people, maybe you could suggest other … opportunities. A possible marriage isn’t the only choice. That said, if Mom and Dad came to this conclusion, they might have already exhausted every other option.”

I buried my head in my hands. I didn’t want to tell him I tried to offer up him as an alternative or that I thought Kaden might even be acceptable. I sensed he was right, that the Selection was their last hope.

“Here’s the thing, Eady. You’ll be the first girl to hold the throne fully in her own right. And people expect a lot from you.”

“Like I don’t already know that.”

“But,” he continued, “that also gives you a lot of bargaining power.”

I raised my head marginally. “What do you mean?”

“If they really need you to do this, then negotiate.”

I sat up straight, my mind running around in circles, trying to think of what I could ask for. There might be a way to get through this quickly, without it even ending in a proposal.

Without a proposal!

If I spoke fast enough, I could probably get Dad to agree to practically anything so long as he got his Selection out of it.

“Negotiate!” I whispered.

“Exactly.”

I stood up, grabbed Ahren by his ears, and planted a kiss on his forehead. “You are my absolute hero!”

He smiled. “Anything for you, my queen.”

I giggled, shoving him. “Thanks, Ahren.”

“Get to work.” He waved me toward the door, and I suspected he was actually more eager to get back to his letter than he was for me to come up with a plan.

I dashed from the room, heading to my own to fetch some paper. I needed to think.

As I rounded the corner, I ran smack into someone, falling backward onto the carpet.

“Ow!” I complained, looking up to see Kile Woodwork, Miss Marlee’s son.

Kile and the rest of the Woodworks had rooms on the same floor as our family, a singularly huge honor. Or irritation, depending on how one felt about the Woodworks.

“Do you mind?” I snapped.

“I wasn’t the one running,” he answered, picking up the books he’d dropped. “You ought to be looking where you’re going.”

“A gentleman would offer his hand right now,” I reminded him.

Kile’s hair flopped across his eyes as he looked over at me. He was in desperate need of a cut and a shave, and his shirt was too big for him. I didn’t know who I was more embarrassed for: him for looking so sloppy or my family for having to be seen with such a disaster.

What was especially irritating was that he wasn’t always so scruffy, and he didn’t have to be now. How hard would it be to run a brush through his hair?

“Eadlyn, you’ve never thought I was a gentleman.”

“True.” I pulled myself up without help and brushed off my robe.

For the last six months I had been spared Kile’s less-than-thrilling company. He’d gone to Fennley to enroll in some accelerated course, and his mother had been lamenting his absence ever since the day he left. I didn’t know what he was studying, and I didn’t particularly care. But he was back now, and his presence was another stressor on an ever-growing list.

“And what would make such a lady run like that in the first place?”

“Matters you are far too dim to comprehend.”

He laughed. “Right, because I’m such a simpleton. It’s a miracle I manage to bathe myself.”

I was about to ask if he did bathe, because he looked like he’d been running away from anything that resembled a bar of soap.

“I hope one of those books is a primer on etiquette. You seriously need a refresher.”

“You’re not queen yet, Eadlyn. Take it down a notch.” He walked away, and I was furious with myself for not getting the last word.

I pressed on. There were bigger problems in my life right now than the state of Kile’s manners. I couldn’t waste my time quibbling with people or being distracted by anything that couldn’t put the Selection to death.







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“I WANT TO BE CLEAR,” I said, sitting down in Dad’s office. “I have no desire to get married.”

He nodded. “I understand that you don’t want to get married today, but it was always something you’d have to do, Eadlyn. You’re obligated to continue the royal line.”

I hated it when he talked about my future like that, like sex and love and babies weren’t happy things but duties performed to keep the country running. It took every speck of joy out of the prospect.

Of all the things in my life, shouldn’t those be the real pleasures, the best parts?

I shook the worry away and focused on the task at hand.

“I understand. And I agree that it’s important,” I replied diplomatically. “But weren’t you ever worried when you went through your Selection that no one in the pool was right for you? Or that maybe they were there for the wrong reason?”

His lips hitched up in a smile. “Every waking moment, and half the time I slept.”

He’d told me a handful of vague stories about one girl who’d been so pliable he could hardly stand her and another who had tried to manipulate the process at every turn. I didn’t know many names or details, and that was fine with me. I had never liked to imagine Dad possibly falling in love with anyone but Mom.

“And don’t you think that as the first woman to fully control the crown, there should be … some standards set for who might rule beside me?”

He tilted his head. “Go on.”

“I’m sure there’s some sort of vetting process in place to make sure an actual psychopath doesn’t make his way into the palace, yes?”

“Of course.” He grinned as if this wasn’t a valid concern.

“But I don’t trust just anyone to do this job with me. So”—I sighed deeply—“I will agree to go through with this ridiculous stunt if you make me a few tiny promises.”

“It’s not a stunt. It’s had an excellent track record. But please, dear girl, tell me what you want.”

“First, I want the contestants to have the freedom to leave of their own free will. I won’t have someone feeling obligated to stay if they don’t care for me or the life they’d have to lead in the palace.”

“I fully agree to that,” he said forcefully. Seemed like I had touched a nerve.

“Excellent. And I know you might be opposed to the idea, but if by the end of this I can’t find anyone suitable, then we call the whole thing off. No prince, no wedding.”

“Ah!” he said, leaning forward in his chair and pointing a calculating finger at me. “If I allow that, you’ll turn them all away the first day. You won’t even try!”

I paused, thinking. “What if I guaranteed you a timeline? I would keep the Selection running for, say, three months and weigh my options for at least that amount of time. After then, if I haven’t found a suitable match, all the contestants are released.”

He ran his hand across his mouth and shifted in his chair a little before pressing his eyes into mine. “Eadlyn, you know how important this is, don’t you?”

“Of course,” I replied instantly, very aware of how serious this was. I sensed one wrong move would set my life on a course I could never correct.

“You need to do this and do it well. For everyone’s sake. Our lives, all of them, are given over in service to our people.”

I looked away. If anything, it felt like Mom, Dad, and I were the trinity of sacrifice here, with the others doing as they pleased.

“I won’t let you down,” I promised. “You do what you must. Make your plans, find a way to appease our public, and I will give you an acceptable window of time to pull it all together.”

His eyes darted toward the ceiling in thought. “Three months? And you swear you’ll try?”

I held up my hand. “I give you my word. I’ll even sign something if you like, but I can’t promise you I’ll fall in love.”

“Wouldn’t be so sure if I was you,” he said knowingly. But I wasn’t him, and I wasn’t Mom. No matter how romantic he thought this was, all I could think of were the thirty-five loud, obnoxious, weird-smelling boys who were about to invade my home. Nothing about that sounded magical.

“It’s a deal.”

I stood, practically ready to dance. “Really?”

“Really.”

I took his hand and sealed my future with a single shake. “Thank you, Dad.”

I left the room before he could see how big my smile was. I had already been running through how I could get most of the boys to leave of their own volition. I could be intimidating when I needed to be or find ways to make the palace a very unwelcoming environment. I also had a secret weapon in Osten, who was the most mischievous of us all and would help me if I asked him to, probably with minimal persuasion.

I admired the thought of a common boy feeling brave enough to face the challenge of becoming a prince. But no one was going to tie me down before I was ready, and I was going to make sure those poor suckers knew what they were signing up for.

They kept the studio cold, but once the lights came on, we might as well have been in an oven for all the good it did. I’d learned years ago to keep my clothing choices for the Report airy, which was why my dress tonight fell off my shoulders. My look was classy, as always, but not something that would subject me to a heatstroke.

“That’s the perfect dress,” Mom commented, pulling at the little ruffles on the sleeves. “You look lovely.”

“Thank you. So do you.”

She smiled as she continued to straighten my dress. “Thank you, sweetheart. I know you’re feeling a little overwhelmed, but I think a Selection will be good for everyone. You’re alone a lot, and it’s something we would have to think about eventually, and—”

“And it will make the people happy. I know.”

I tried to hide the misery in my voice. We had technically moved past selling off the royal daughters, but … this didn’t feel that different. Didn’t she get that?

Her eyes moved from the gown to my face. Something in them told me she was sorry.

“I know you feel like this is a sacrifice; and it’s true that when you live a life of service, there are many things you do, not because you want to, but because you must.” She swallowed. “But through this I found your father, and I found my closest friends, and I learned that I was stronger than I ever thought I could be. I know about the agreement you made with your dad, and if this ends without you finding the right person, so be it. But please, let yourself experience something here. Sharpen yourself, learn something. And try not to hate us for asking you to do it.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“You at least considered it when we proposed this,” she said with a grin. “Didn’t you?”

“I’m eighteen. I’m genetically encoded to fight with my parents.”

“I don’t mind a good fight so long as you still know how much I love you in the end.”

I reached to hug her. “And I love you. Promise.”

She held me for a moment, then pulled away, smoothing my dress to make sure I was still immaculate before she went to find Dad. I walked to take my seat next to Ahren, who wiggled his eyebrows at me teasingly. “Looking good, sis. Practically bridal.”

I swung my skirt and sat down gracefully. “One more word and I will shave your head in your sleep.”

“I love you, too.”

I tried not to smile but failed. He just always knew.

The room filled with the palace household. Miss Lucy sat alone, as General Leger was on rounds, and Mr. and Mrs. Woodwork sat behind the cameras with Kile and Josie. They were the Woodworks’ only children, and I knew Miss Marlee meant the world to Mom, so I kept it to myself that I thought her kids were the absolute worst. Kile wasn’t as obnoxious as Josie, but, in all the years I’d known him, he’d never made anything remotely close to an interesting conversation. So help me, if I ever got a bad case of insomnia, I’d hire him to sit in my room and talk. Problem solved. And Josie … I didn’t have words for how wretched that girl was.

Dad’s advisers filed in, bowing as they came. There was only one woman in Dad’s cabinet, Lady Brice Mannor. She was lovely and petite, and I was never sure how someone so demure managed to stay afloat in the political arena. I’d never heard her raise her voice or get angry, but people listened to her. The men didn’t listen to me unless I was stern.

Her presence made me curious though. What would happen if I, as queen, made my entire board of counselors women?

That might be an interesting experiment.

The chairmen and advisers delivered their announcements and updates, and finally, Gavril turned to me.

Gavril Fadaye had slicked-back silver hair but a very handsome face. He’d been talking recently about retirement, but after an announcement this big, he’d have to stick around a bit longer.

“Tonight, Illéa, to conclude our program, we have some very exciting news. And there is no one better to deliver it than our future queen, the beautiful Eadlyn Schreave.”

He swept his hand grandly in my direction, and I smiled widely as I walked across the carpeted stage to polite applause.

Gavril gave me a quick embrace and a kiss on each cheek. “Princess Eadlyn, welcome.”

“Thanks, Gavril.”

“Now, I have to be honest. It feels like only yesterday I was announcing the birth of you and your brother Ahren. I can’t believe it’s been more than eighteen years!”

“It’s true. We’re all grown up.” I looked toward my family, sharing a warm gaze.

“You’re on the edge of making history. I think all of Illéa is eager to see what you’ll do a few years down the road when you become queen.”

“That’ll certainly be an exciting time, but I’m not sure I want to wait that long to make history.” I gave him a playful nudge with my elbow, and he mocked surprise.

“Why don’t you tell us what you have in mind, Your Highness?”

I squared my shoulders in front of camera C and smiled. “Our great country has gone through many changes over the years. In my parents’ lifetimes alone we’ve seen the rebel forces within our country practically run into extinction, and though we still face challenges, the caste system no longer divides our people along imaginary lines. We live in an era of extraordinary freedom, and we wait with anticipation to see our nation become everything it possibly can.”

I remembered to smile and speak articulately. Years of lessons on how to address an audience had drilled the proper technique into me, and I knew I was hitting every last point I was meant to as I delivered my announcement.

“And that’s great … but I’m still an eighteen-year-old girl.” The small audience of guests and advisers giggled. “It gets a little boring when you spend the majority of the day in an office with your dad. No offense, Your Majesty,” I added, turning to Dad.

“None taken,” he called back.

“And so I’ve decided it’s time for a change of pace. It’s time to search, not just for someone to be a coworker with me in this very demanding job, but for a partner to walk with me through life. To do that, I’m hoping Illéa will indulge my deepest wish: to have a Selection.”

The advisers gasped and muttered. I saw the shocked faces of the staff. It became clear that the only person who was already in on this was Gavril, which surprised me.

“Tomorrow, letters will be sent to all the eligible young men in Illéa. You’ll have two weeks to decide whether you would like to compete for my hand. I realize, of course, that this is uncharted territory. We’ve never had a female-run Selection before. Still, even though I have three brothers, I’m very excited to meet another prince of Illéa. And I’m hoping that all of Illéa will celebrate with me.”

I gave a small curtsy and retreated to my seat. Mom and Dad were beaming proudly at me, and I tried to tell myself that their reaction was enough, though I felt like my blood was trembling in my veins. I couldn’t help but think I’d missed something, that there was a gaping hole in the net I’d set up to catch myself.

But there was nothing I could do. I’d just thrown myself off the ledge.







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I KNEW WE HAD AN arsenal of staff working at the palace, but I was convinced the majority of them had been in hiding until today. As the announcement of this unexpected Selection spread, it wasn’t simply the maids and butlers running around in preparation, but people I’d never even seen before.

My daily workload of reading reports and sitting in on meetings shifted as I became the focal point of the Selection preparations.

“This is slightly less expensive, Your Highness, but it is still incredibly comfortable and would work well with the existing decor.” A man held out a very large swatch of fabric, which he draped over the previous two options.

I touched it, enchanted by the texture of cloth as I usually was, though this was clearly not intended to be worn.

“I’m not sure I understand why we’re doing this,” I confessed.

The man, one of the palace decorators, pressed his lips together. “It has been suggested that some of the guest rooms are a bit feminine and that your suitors might be more comfortable in something like this,” he said, pulling out yet another option. “We can make a room look entirely different with a simple bedspread,” he assured me.

“Fine,” I said, thinking it was a little unnecessary to get this worked up over some sheets. “But do I need to make this decision?”

He smiled kindly. “Your fingerprints will be all over this Selection, miss. Even if you don’t choose, people will assume you did. We might as well get your authority on all things.”

I stared at the fabric, more than a little exhausted thinking about how all these silly details would point back to me. “This one.” I chose the least-expensive option. It was a deep green and would be perfectly acceptable for a three-month stay.

“Very wise, Your Highness,” the decorator complimented. “Now, should we consider adding new art as well?” He clapped his hands, and a stream of maids walked in carrying paintings. I sighed, knowing my afternoon was lost.

The following morning I was summoned to the dining hall. Mom came with me, but Dad couldn’t be pulled away from his work.

A man I assumed was our head chef bowed to us, not able to go very low because of his wide stomach. His face was closer to red than white, but he didn’t sweat, which made me think that all the years in the kitchen had simply steamed him.

“Thank you for joining us, Your Majesty, Your Highness. The kitchen staff has been working day and night to find appropriate options for the first dinner once your suitors arrive. We want to serve seven courses, obviously.”

“Of course!” Mom replied.

The chef smiled at her. “Naturally, we would like your approval for the final menu.”

I groaned internally. A true seven-course meal could take six hours from the first sip of a cocktail to the final bite of chocolate. How long would it take to sample several different options for each course?

About eight hours, it turned out, and I had a dreadful stomachache for the rest of the day, which made me less than enthusiastic when someone came asking about music selections for the evening of the first dinner.

The hallways were like crowded streets, and every corner of the palace was noisy with speedy preparations. I endured it as best I could until Dad stopped me in passing one day.

“We were thinking about making a special room for the Selected. What do you think about—”

“Enough!” I sighed, exasperated. “I don’t care. I have no idea what a boy would like in a recreational space, so I suggest you ask someone with some testosterone. And as for me, I’ll be in the garden.”

Dad could tell I was near a breaking point, and he let me pass without a fight. I was thankful for the momentary respite.

I lay on my stomach in my bikini on a blanket in the open stretch of grass that spread out just before the forest. I wished, as I had so many times before, that we had a pool. I was pretty good at getting my way, but Dad never budged on the pool issue. When the palace was mine, that was the first thing on the agenda.

I sketched dresses in my book, trying to relax. As the sun warmed me, the quick scratch of my pencil blended with the sound of rustling leaves, making a lovely, tranquil song. I mourned the loss of peace in my life. Three months, I recited. Three months, and then everything goes back to normal.

A piercing laugh polluted the stillness of the garden. “Josie,” I muttered to myself. Shading my eyes, I turned and saw her walking toward me. She was with one of her friends, an upper-class girl she’d chosen to associate with specifically because the company in the palace wasn’t enough for her.

I closed my book, hiding my designs, and turned onto my back simply to take in the sun.

“It will be a good experience for everyone,” I heard Josie remark to her friend. “I don’t get to interact with boys very often, so it’ll be nice to have an opportunity to talk to some. One day, when my wedding is arranged, I’d like to be able to carry on a conversation.”

I rolled my eyes. If I thought I’d have the slightest attachment to these boys, it would have bothered me that she thought they were here for her. Then again, Josie thought everything existed for her. And the idea that she was so important that her marriage would need to be arranged on her behalf was comical. She could marry anyone off the street and no one would care one way or the other.

“I hope I’ll be able to visit during the Selection,” her friend replied. “It’ll be so fun!”

“Of course, Shannon! I’ll make sure all my friends get to come often. It’ll be valuable for you as well.”

How kind of her to offer up my home and events as learning opportunities for her little buddies. I took a deep breath. I needed to focus on relaxing.

“Eadlyn!” Josie cried, spotting me.

I groaned, then raised a hand to acknowledge her, hoping the silence would convey my wish for privacy.

“How excited are you for the Selection?” she yelled, continuing over.

I wasn’t going to holler like a farmhand, so I said nothing. Eventually, Josie and her friend were standing above me, blocking the sun.

“Didn’t you hear me, Eadlyn? Aren’t you excited for the Selection?”

Josie never addressed me properly.

“Of course.”

“Me, too! I think it’ll be exciting to have all the company.”

“You won’t have any company,” I reminded her. “These boys are my guests.”

She tipped her head like I was stating the obvious. “I know! But it’ll still be nice to have more people around.”

“Josie, how old are you?”

“Fifteen,” she answered proudly.

“I thought so. If you really want to, I’m sure you could get out and meet people of your own accord now. You’re certainly old enough.”

She smiled. “I don’t think so. That’s not exactly appropriate.”

I didn’t want to get into this argument again. I was the one who couldn’t pick up and leave the palace without warning. Security sweeps, proper announcements, and protocol reviews were all necessary before I could even consider it.

Also, I constantly had to be aware of the company I kept. I couldn’t be seen with just anyone. An unflattering picture wasn’t simply taken; it was documented, stored, and resurrected whenever the newspapers needed to criticize me. I had to be relentlessly on my toes to avoid anything that could possibly tarnish my image, my family’s image, or the country at large.

Josie was a commoner. She didn’t have any such restrictions.

Not that it stopped her from acting like she did.

“Well, at least you have some company for today, then. If you two don’t mind, I’m trying to rest.”

“Certainly, Your Highness.” Her friend bowed her head. Okay, she wasn’t too bad.

“I’ll see you at dinner!” Josie was a little too enthusiastic about it.

I tried to lull myself back into relaxation, but Josie’s piercing voice kept finding its way over to me, and I eventually scooped up my blanket and sketches, and headed inside. If I couldn’t enjoy myself here, I might as well figure out something else to do.

After being so exposed to the bright Angeles sun, the palace halls looked like twilight as I waited for my eyes to adjust. I blinked hard, trying to make out the face of the person coming toward me. It was Osten, carrying two notebooks as he rushed down the hall.

He shoved the books into my arms. “Hide these in your room, okay? And if anyone asks, you haven’t seen me.”

As quickly as he appeared, he vanished. I sighed, knowing that even attempting to comprehend would be pointless. I sometimes couldn’t stand the pressure placed on me from being born first, but thank goodness it was me and not Osten. Every time I tried to imagine him at the helm, it gave me a headache.

I flipped through the notebooks, curious as to what he was plotting. Turned out they weren’t his at all. They were Josie’s. I recognized her babyish handwriting, and, if that hadn’t given it away, the sheets of her and Ahren’s names in hearts made it all too obvious. It wasn’t just Ahren’s name though. A few pages later she was in love with all four members of Choosing Yesterday, a popular band, and just after that it was some actor. Anyone with any sort of clout would do, it seemed.

I decided to set the books on the floor by the doors to the garden. Whatever Osten had planned, there was no way it would be as distressing as her stumbling across them when she came inside, with no clue as to how they’d gotten there or who had seen them.

For someone who prided herself on being so close to the royal family, she really should have learned a lesson or two in discretion by now.

When I got to my room, Neena was at the ready, grabbing my blanket to place in the wash. I threw something on, not really in the mood to think about my outfit too much today. As I was about to fix my hair, I noticed some files on the table.

“Lady Brice dropped those off for you,” Neena said.

I stared at the folders. Though it was my first piece of actual work in a week, I couldn’t be bothered. “I’ll get to them later,” I promised, knowing that I probably wouldn’t. I’d maybe look at them tomorrow. Today was mine.

I pinned back my hair, double-checked my makeup, and went to look for Mom. I could use the company, and I felt pretty confident that she wouldn’t ask me to pick out furniture or food.

I found her alone in the Women’s Room. A plaque beside the door declared that the space was actually titled the Newsome Library, but I’d never heard anyone call it by that name except for Mom on occasion. It was the space where the women congregated, so the original label seemed more practical, I supposed.

I could tell Mom was in there before I even opened the door because I heard her playing the piano, and her sound was unmistakable. She loved to tell the story of how Dad made her pick out four brand-new pianos, each with various attributes, after they were married. They were placed all over the palace. One was in her suite, a second in Dad’s, one here, and another in a largely unused parlor on the fourth floor.

I was still jealous of how easy she made it look. I remembered her warning me that one day time would take the dexterity out of her hands, and she’d only be able to plunk away at one or two keys at a time. So far time had failed.

I tried to be quiet, but she heard me all the same.

“Hello, darling,” she called, pulling her fingers away from the keys. “Come sit with me.”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt.” I walked across the room, settling next to her on the bench.

“You didn’t. I was clearing my head, and I feel much better now.”

“Is something wrong?”

She smiled distractedly and rubbed her hand over my back. “No. Just the everyday wear and tear of the job.”

“I know what you mean,” I said, running my fingers along the keys, not actually making any sound.

“I keep thinking that I’ve gotten to a point where I’ve seen it all, where I’ve mastered everything about being queen. No sooner do I think it than everything changes. There are … Well, you have enough to worry about today. Let’s not bother with it.”

With some work she pasted a smile back onto her face, and while I wanted to know what was troubling her—because, in the end, all those troubles also fell on me—she was right. I simply couldn’t deal with it today.

It seemed she hardly could either.

“Do you ever regret it?” I asked, seeing the sadness in her eyes despite her efforts. “Entering the Selection and ending up queen?”

I was grateful she didn’t just immediately say yes or no but actually considered the question.

“I don’t regret marrying your father. I sometimes wonder about the life I would have had without the Selection, or if I had still come to the palace but lost. I think I would have been fine. Not unhappy exactly, but not aware of what else there could have been for me. But the path to him was a difficult one, mostly because I didn’t want to walk it.”

“At all?”

She shook her head. “It wasn’t my idea to enter the Selection.”

My mouth fell open. She’d never told me that. “Whose was it?”

“That’s not important,” she answered quickly. “But I can tell you that I understand your reservations. I think the process will teach you a lot about yourself. I hope you’ll trust me on this.”

“It’d be a lot easier to trust you if I knew you were doing this for me and not to buy yourself some peace.” The words came out sharper than I meant them to.

She took a deep breath. “I know you think this is selfish, but you’ll see. One day the welfare of the country will be on your shoulders, and you’ll be surprised at what you’d try in order to keep it all from crumbling. I never thought we’d have another Selection, but plans change when that much is demanded of you.”

“Plenty is demanded of me now,” I shot back.

“One, watch your tone,” she warned. “And two, you only see a fraction of the work. You have no idea how much pressure is placed on your father.”

I sat there, silent. I wanted to leave. If she didn’t like my tone, then why did she push me?

“Eadlyn,” she began quietly. “The timing of this happened to fall when it did. But, honestly, sooner or later I would have done something.”

“What do you mean?”

“You seem shut off in a way, disconnected from your people. I know you’re constantly worried about the demands you will face as queen, but it’s time you see the needs of others.”

“You don’t think I do that now?” Did she see what I did all day?

She pressed her lips together. “No, honey. Not if it comes before your comfort.”

I wanted to scream at her, and at Dad, too. Sure, I took shelter in long baths or a drink with dinner. I didn’t think that was too much to ask for considering what I sacrificed.

“I didn’t realize you thought I was so flawed.” I stood, turning away.

“Eadlyn, that’s not what I’m saying.”

“It is. That’s fine.” I made my way to the door. The accusation filled me with so much rage I could barely stand it.

“Eadlyn, darling, we want you to be the best queen you can be, that’s all,” she pleaded.

“I will,” I answered, one foot in the hallway. “And I certainly don’t need a boy to show me how to do that.”

I tried to calm myself before walking away. It felt like the universe was plotting against me, its arms taking turns swatting me down. I repeated in my head that it was only three months, only three months … until I heard someone crying.

“Are you sure?” It sounded like General Leger.

“I talked with her this morning. She decided to keep it.” Miss Lucy pulled in a jagged breath.

“Did you tell her that we could give that baby everything? That we had more money than we could ever spend? That we’d love it, no matter its faults?” General Leger’s words fell out in a whispered rush.

“All that and more,” Miss Lucy insisted. “I knew there was a huge chance of the baby being born with mental issues. I told her we’d be able to tend to any need he had, that the queen herself would see to it. She said she talked with her family, and they agreed to help her, and that she never really wanted to let the baby go in the first place. She only looked into adoption because she thought she’d be alone. She apologized, like that could fix it.”

Miss Lucy sniffed as if she was trying to quiet her sobs. I drew close to the corner of the passage, listening

“I’m so sorry, Lucy.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. It’s not your fault.” She said those words kindly, bravely. “I think we need to accept that it’s over. Years of treatments, so many miscarriages, three failed adoptions … we just need to let it go.”

There was a long silence before General Leger answered. “If that’s what you think is best.”

“I do,” she said, her voice sounding assertive, before she sank into tears again. “I still can’t believe I’ll never be a mother.”

A second later her cries were muffled, and I knew her husband had pulled her to his chest, trying to comfort her as best he could.

All these years I had thought the Legers had chosen to be a childless couple. Miss Lucy’s struggles had never made it into conversation when I was in the room, and she seemed content enough to play with us as children and send us on our way. I’d never considered that it might have been an unfortunate circumstance thrust on them.

Was my mother right? Was I not as observant or caring as I thought? Miss Lucy was one of my favorite people in the world. Shouldn’t I have been able to see how sad she was?







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THIRTY-FIVE MASSIVE BASKETS SAT IN the office, filled with what must have been tens of thousands of entries, all left in their envelopes to protect the gentlemen’s anonymity. I tried to give off an air of eager anticipation for the sake of the camera, but I felt like I might vomit into one of those baskets at any given moment.

That would be one way to narrow the pool.

Dad placed a hand on my back. “All right, Eady. Just walk to each basket and select an envelope. I’ll hold them for you so your hands don’t get full. Then we’ll open them live tonight on the Report. It’s that easy.”

For something so simple, it seemed incredibly daunting. Then again, I’d felt overwhelmed since we announced the Selection, so this shouldn’t have been a surprise.

I adjusted my favorite tiara and smoothed out my iridescent gray dress. I wanted to make sure I looked positively radiant today, and when I’d checked my reflection before heading downstairs, even I was a little intimidated by the girl in the mirror.

“So I literally select each one myself?” I whispered, hoping the cameras weren’t watching too closely.

He gave me a tiny smile and spoke softly. “It’s a privilege I never had. Go ahead, love.”

“What do you mean?”

“Later. Go on now.” He gestured toward the piles and piles of entries.

I took a deep breath. I could do this. No matter what people were hoping for, I had a plan. And it was foolproof. I would walk away from this unscathed. Just a few months of my life—nothing, in the grand scheme of things—and then I’d go back to the work of becoming queen. Alone.

So why are you stalling?

Shut up.

I walked to the first basket, with a label declaring the contestants were all from Clermont. I pulled one from the side, cameras flashed, and the handful of people in the room actually applauded. Mom wrapped her arm around Ahren in excitement, and he sneakily made a face at me. Miss Marlee sighed with delight, but Miss Lucy was absent. Osten was missing, too, which was no surprise, but Kaden stood by, observing the whole thing with interest.

I used different techniques for different bins. On one, I plucked the envelope from the very top. On the next, I buried my arm to fish out my choice. The onlookers seemed incredibly amused when I got to Carolina, Mom’s home province, picked up two envelopes, and weighed them in my hands for a few seconds before dropping one back in.

I placed the last entry in Dad’s hands, and there was more clapping and camera flashes. I gave what I hoped was an enthusiastic smile before the reporters all exited the room, off to give their exclusive stories. Ahren and Kaden left, joking as they went, and Mom gave me a quick kiss on the head before she followed them. We were speaking again but didn’t have much to say.

“You did marvelously,” Dad said once we were alone, a genuine tone of awe in his voice. “Really, I understand how nerve-racking this can feel, but you were wonderful.”

“How do you know though?” I placed my hands on my hips. “If you didn’t pick out the entries yourself?”

He swallowed. “You’ve heard the broad strokes of how your mother and I found each other. But there are tiny details that are best left in the drawer. The only reason I am telling you this is because I think it will help you to see how fortunate you are.”

I nodded, not sure where he was going.

He took a breath. “My Selection wasn’t a farce, but it wasn’t that far off. My father chose all the contestants by hand, picking young women with political alliances, influential families, or enough charm to make the entire country worship the ground they walked on. He knew he had to make it varied enough to seem legit, so there were three Fives thrown into the mix but nothing below that. The Fives were meant to be little more than throwaways to keep anyone from being suspicious.”

I realized my mouth was gaping open and shut it immediately. “Mom?”

“Was meant to be gone almost immediately. Truth be told, she barely made it past my father’s attempts to sway my opinion or remove her himself. And look at her now.” His whole face changed. “Though it was hard for me to imagine, she is even more beloved as queen than my mother. She has made four beautiful, intelligent, strong children. And she has been the source of every happiness in my life.”

He flipped idly through the envelopes in his hands. “I’m not sure if fate or destiny is real. But I can tell you that sometimes the very thing you’ve been hoping for will walk through the door, determined to fend you off. And still, somehow, you will find that you are enough.”

Until then I’d never had a reason to doubt that I’d seen the whole picture of my parents’ love story. But between Dad’s confession that Mom wasn’t even supposed to be a choice and Mom’s revelation that she didn’t want to be a part of the choosing in the first place, I wondered how they had managed to find each other at all.

It was clear from Dad’s expression, he could barely believe it himself.

“You’re going to do great, you know?” he said, beaming proudly.

“What makes you think so?”

“You’re like your mother, and my mother, too. You’re determined. And, perhaps most important, you don’t like to fail. I know this will all work out, if only because you’ll refuse to allow it to go any other way.”

I nearly told him, nearly confessed I had come up with pages of ideas to drive these boys away. Because he was right: I didn’t want to fail. But for me, failure meant having my life led by someone else.

“I’m sure everything will turn out just as it should,” I said, a whisper of regret hanging in my voice.

He lifted a hand and placed it on my cheek. “It usually does.”







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IN THE STUDIO, THE SET was slightly rearranged. Typically, Ahren and I were the only ones who sat on camera with my parents, but tonight Kaden and Osten were given seats onstage as well.

Dad’s officials were in a cluster of seats on the opposite side, and in the middle a bowl waited with all the envelopes I’d picked earlier. Beside it was an empty bowl for me to place them in as they were opened. I had reservations about reading out the names myself, but at least it gave the appearance of control. I liked that.

Behind the cameras, seats were filled with other members of our household. General Leger was there, kissing Miss Lucy on her forehead and whispering something to her. It had been a few days since I’d overheard their conversation, and I still felt awful for her. Of all the people in the world who ought to be parents, it was the Legers. And of all the people in the world who ought to have the ability to fix things, it was the Schreaves.

Still, I was lost as to how to help.

Miss Marlee was shushing Josie, probably for laughing at a joke Josie made herself that lacked any level of humor. I’d never understand how someone so wonderful had birthed such awful people. My favorite tiara? The one I was wearing? It was only my favorite because Josie bent my first favorite and lost two stones out of the second. She wasn’t even supposed to touch them. Ever.

Beside her, Kile was reading a book. Because, clearly, everything going on in our country and home was too boring for him. What an ingrate.

He peeked up from his book, saw me watching, made a face, and went back to reading. Why was he even here?

“How are you feeling?” Mom was suddenly beside me, her arm around my shoulder.

“Fine.”

She smiled. “There’s no way you’re fine. This is terrifying.”

“Why, yes, yes it is. How kind of you to subject me to such a delightful thing.”

Her giggle was tentative, testing to see if we were on good terms again.

“I don’t think you’re flawed,” she said quietly. “I think you’re a thousand wonderful things. One day you’ll know what it’s like to worry for your children. And I worry for you more than the others. You’re not just any girl, Eadlyn. You’re the girl. And I want everything for you.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. I didn’t want for us to fight right now, not with something this big coming. Her arm was still on my shoulder, so I wrapped mine around her back, and she kissed my hair, just under my tiara.

“I feel very uncomfortable,” I confessed.

“Just remember how the boys are feeling. This is huge for them as well. And the country will be so pleased.”

I concentrated on my breathing. Three months. Freedom. A piece of cake.

“I’m proud of you,” she said, giving me a final squeeze. “Good luck.”

She walked away to greet Dad, and Ahren strode toward me, smoothing out his suit. “I cannot believe this is actually happening,” he said, genuine excitement coloring his tone. “I’m really looking forward to the company.”

“What, is Kile not enough for you?” I darted my eyes at him again, and he still had his nose buried.

“I don’t know what you have against Kile. He’s really smart.”

“Is that code for boring?”

“No! But I’m excited to meet different people.”

“I’m not.” I crossed my arms, partly frustrated, partly protecting myself.

“Aww, come on, sis. This is going to be fun.” He surveyed the room and dropped his voice to a whisper. “I can only imagine what you have in store for those poor saps.”

I tried to suppress my smile, but I was anticipating watching them squirm.

He picked up one of the envelopes and bopped me on the nose with it. “Get ready now. If you have a basic grasp of the English language, you should manage this part just fine.”

“Such a pain,” I said, punching his arm. “I love you.”

“I know you do. Don’t worry. This is going to be easy.”

We were instructed to take our seats, and Ahren threw the envelope back down, taking my hand to walk me to my place. The cameras started rolling, and Dad began the Report with an update about an approaching trade agreement with New Asia. We worked so closely with them now, it was hard to imagine a time we were actually at war. He touched on the growing immigration laws, and all his advisers spoke, including Lady Brice. It simultaneously felt like it dragged on forever and passed in an instant.

When Gavril announced my name, it took me a second to remember exactly what I was supposed to be doing. But I stood and walked across the stage, and assumed my place in front of the microphone.

I flashed a smile and looked straight into the camera, knowing every TV in Illéa was on tonight. “I’m sure you’re all as excited as I am, so let’s skip ceremony and get right to what everyone is dying to hear. Ladies and gentlemen, here are the thirty-five young men invited to participate in this groundbreaking Selection.”

I reached into the bowl and pulled out the first envelope. “From Likely,” I read, pausing to open it, “Mr. MacKendrick Shepard.”

I held up his photograph, and the room applauded as I set it in the other bowl and moved back for the next entry.

“From Zuni … Mr. Winslow Fields.”

There was a smattering of applause after every name.

Holden Messenger. Kesley Timber. Hale Garner. Edwin Bishop.

It felt like I had opened at least a hundred envelopes by the time my hands reached for the final one. My cheeks hurt, and I was hoping Mom wouldn’t judge me if I skipped dinner and ate alone in my room. I really thought I’d earned it.

“Ah! From Angeles.” I ripped at the paper, pulling out the final entry. I knew my smile must have faltered, but really, it couldn’t be helped. “Mr. Kile Woodwork.”

I heard the reactions around the room. Several gasps, a handful of laughs, but, most obviously, I could hear Kile’s reaction. He dropped his book.

I pulled in a breath. “There you have it. Tomorrow, advisers will be sent out to begin prepping these thirty-five candidates for the adventure before them. And, in one short week, they will arrive at the palace. Until then, join me in congratulating them.”

I began the applause, the room followed, and I retreated to my seat, trying not to look as sick as I felt.

Kile’s name being in there shouldn’t have shaken me the way it did. At the end of the day, none of those boys stood a chance. But something about this felt wrong.

The second Gavril finished signing off, everyone erupted. Mom and Dad walked to the Woodworks. I followed right behind them, Josie’s laughter acting as a homing beacon.

“I didn’t do it!” Kile insisted. As I approached, our eyes met. I could see he was as upset as I was.

“Does that even matter?” Mom said. “Anyone of age is allowed to put his name in.”

Dad nodded. “That’s true. It’s a bit of a strange situation, but there’s nothing illegal about it.”

“But I don’t want to be a part of this.” Kile looked at Dad imploringly.

“Who put your name in?” I asked.

Kile shook his head. “I don’t know. It has to be a mistake. Why would I enter when I don’t want to compete?”

Mom’s eyes were on General Leger, and it looked almost like they were smiling. But there wasn’t anything funny about this.

“Excuse me!” I protested. “This is unacceptable. Is anyone going to do anything about it?”

“Pick someone else,” Kile offered.

General Leger shook his head. “Eadlyn announced your name in front of the country. You’re the candidate from Angeles.”

“That’s right,” Dad agreed. “Reading the names publicly makes it official. We can’t replace you.”

Kile rolled his eyes. He did that a lot. “Then Eadlyn can eliminate me the first day.”

“And send you where?” I asked. “You’re already home.”

Ahren chuckled. “Sorry,” he said, noticing our glares. “That’s not going to sit well with the others.”

“Send me away,” Kile offered, sounding thrilled.

“For the hundredth time, Kile, you’re not leaving!” Miss Marlee said in the firmest voice I’d ever heard her use. She put her hand to her temple, and Mr. Carter wrapped an arm around her, speaking into her ear.

“You want to go somewhere else?” I asked, incredulous. “Isn’t a palace good enough for you?”

“It’s not mine,” he said, raising his voice. “And quite frankly, I’m tired of it. I’m over the rules, I’m over being a guest, and I’m so over your bratty attitude.”

I gasped as Miss Marlee thwacked her son over the head.

“Apologize!” she commanded.

Kile pressed his lips together, looking at the ground. I crossed my arms. He wasn’t leaving until I got an apology. I’d get it one way or another.

Finally, after a forceful shake of his head, he muttered it under his breath.

I looked away, hardly impressed with his efforts.

“We’ll move forward as planned,” Dad said. “This is a Selection, just like any of the others. It’s about choices. Right now, Kile is one option of many, and Eadlyn could certainly do worse.”

Thanks, Dad. I quickly checked Kile’s expression. He was staring at the floor, seeming embarrassed and angry.

“For now I think we should all get some food and celebrate. This is a very exciting day.”

“That’s right,” General Leger agreed. “Let’s eat.”

“I’m tired,” I said, turning. “I’ll be in my room.”

I didn’t wait for approval. I didn’t owe anyone anything after tonight. I was giving them everything they wanted.







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I AVOIDED EVERYONE OVER THE weekend, and no one seemed bothered by it, not even Mom. With the names out there, the Selection felt that much more real, and I was saddened by the dwindling days of solitude.

The Monday before the candidates arrived, I finally rejoined humanity and made my way to the Women’s Room. Miss Lucy was there, seeming back to her usual, cheerful self. I kept wishing I could do something to help her. I knew a puppy wasn’t a person, but so far my only idea was to get her a pet.

Mom was talking to Miss Marlee, and they waved me over the moment I was through the doorway.

Miss Marlee put her hand on mine as I sat. “I wanted to explain about Kile. He doesn’t want to leave because of you. He’s been talking about going for a long time, and I thought the semester away would put an end to it. I can’t bear to let him go.”

“You’ll have to let him make his own choice sooner or later,” Mom urged. Funny, since she was the one trying to marry her daughter to a stranger.

“I don’t understand it. Josie never talks about leaving.”

I rolled my eyes. Of course she doesn’t.

“But what can you do? You can’t force him to stay.” Mom poured a cup of tea and set it in front of me.

“I’m hiring another tutor. This one has hands-on experience and can give Kile more than a book could, so I think I’ve bought some more time. I keep hoping—”

Aunt May burst into the room, looking as if she stepped out of a magazine. I bolted over to her and gave her a bone-crushing hug.

“Your Highness,” she greeted.

“Shut up.”

She laughed and pulled me back, grasping me by both shoulders and looking into my eyes. “I want to hear everything about the Selection. How are you feeling? Some of those pictures were cute. Are you already in love?”

“Not even close,” I replied with a laugh.

“Well, give ’em a few days.”

That’s how it was with Aunt May. A new love every few months or so. She treated the four of us—and our cousins, Astra and Leo—like we were her kids since she never settled down herself. I particularly enjoyed her company, and the palace always felt more exciting when she was here.

“How long are you staying?” Mom asked, and May held my hand as we crossed back to her.

“Leaving again Thursday.”

I gasped.

“I know. I’m going to miss all the excitement!” She pouted at me. “But Leo has a game Friday afternoon, and Astra’s dance recital is on Saturday, and I promised I’d be there. She’s really coming along,” Aunt May said, turning to Mom. “You can tell her mother was an artist.”

They shared a smile. “I wish I could go,” Mom lamented.

“Why don’t we?” I suggested, picking up some cookies for my tea.

Aunt May gave me a questioning look. “You do realize you already have plans for this weekend, right? Big plans? Life-changing plans?”

I shrugged. “I’m not too worried about missing them.”

“Eadlyn,” Mom reprimanded.

“Sorry! It’s just overwhelming. I like the way things are now.”

“Where are the pictures?” May asked.

“In my room, on my desk. I’m trying to learn the names, but I haven’t gotten very far yet.”

May waved her arm at a maid. “Dearie, will you go up to the princess’s room and grab the stack of Selection candidates’ forms off her desk?”

The maid beamed and curtsied, and I suspected she’d be thumbing through the pile on her way down.

Mom leaned in toward her sister. “I just want to remind you that, one, they’re off-limits, and, two, even if they weren’t, you’re twice their age.”

Miss Marlee and I laughed, while Miss Lucy only smiled. She was much easier on Aunt May than the rest of us.

“Don’t tease her,” Miss Lucy protested. “I’m sure she has the best intentions.”

“Thank you, Lucy. This isn’t for me; it’s for Eadlyn!” she vowed. “We’re going to help her get a head start.”

“That’s not really how it works.” Mom leaned back, drinking her tea with an air of superiority.

Miss Marlee laughed loudly. “This from you! Do we need to remind you of your head start?”

“What?” I asked, shocked. How many details had my parents omitted from their story? “What does she mean?”

Mom put down her tea and held up a hand defensively. “I accidentally ran into your father the night before the Selection started, and, I will have you know,” she said, more to Miss Marlee than to me, “I could easily have been kicked out for that. It wasn’t exactly the first impression you hope for.”

I sat there gaping. “Mom, exactly how many rules did you break?”

Her eyes darted up as if she was trying to tally them. “Okay, you know what, go through the pictures all you want; you win.”

Aunt May laughed with delight, and I tried to memorize the way her head sloped gracefully to one side and her eyes sparkled. Everything about her was so effortlessly glamorous, and I adored her with a love close to what I held for my mother. While I felt a little slighted by Josie being my closest female playmate growing up, Mom’s circle of friends more than made up for it. Aunt May’s spirit, Miss Lucy’s kindness, Miss Marlee’s buoyancy, and Mom’s strength were invaluable, and more enlightening than any class I ever took.

The maid came back, placing the pile of forms and pictures in front of me. To my surprise, it was Miss Marlee who grabbed the first handful of applications to graze through. Aunt May was close behind, and while Mom didn’t pick up any herself, she did lean over Miss Marlee’s shoulder to peek. Miss Lucy looked like she was trying not to be curious but in the end had a pile in her own lap as well.

“Oh, he looks promising.” Aunt May shoved a picture in front of me. I stared into a set of dark eyes embedded deep in ebony skin. His hair was cropped short, and he wore a bright smile. “Baden Trains, nineteen, from Sumner.”

“He’s handsome,” Mom gushed.

“Well, obviously,” May agreed. “And with a last name like Trains, he probably comes from a family of Sevens. It says here he’s in his first year studying advertising. That means either he or someone in his family is very determined.”

“True,” Miss Marlee agreed. “That’s no small feat.”

I pulled a couple of the forms over, picking through them.

“So how are you feeling?” Aunt May asked. “Is everything ready to go?”

“I think so.” I flipped over an application, scanning for something that might seem remotely interesting. I just didn’t care. “For a while everyone was in such a tizzy I thought it might never end. It looks like all the rooms are finished, the food calculations have been made, and now that the list is official, travel arrangements should be done by tomorrow.”

“You sound positively thrilled,” May teased, poking me.

I sighed, then looked pointedly at Mom. “You might as well know, this isn’t completely about me.”

“What do you mean, honey?” Miss Lucy asked, setting her pile of papers on her lap, looking between Mom and me with concern.

“Of course we’re hoping Eadlyn will find someone worthy of settling down with,” Mom began shrewdly. “But as it happens, this is coming at a time when we were in need of a plan to calm the unrest over the castes.”

“Ames!” May said. “Your daughter is a decoy?”

“No!”

“Yes,” I muttered. Aunt May rubbed my back, and it made me feel so much better to have her there.

“Sooner or later, we would have needed to look at suitors, and this isn’t binding. Eadlyn has an agreement with Maxon that if she doesn’t fall in love, then the whole thing is off. However, yes, Eadlyn is doing her job as a member of the royal family by creating a little … diversion while the population cools down and we investigate what more we could do. And, might I add, it’s working.”

“It is?” I asked.

“Haven’t you looked at the papers? You’re the center of everything right now. Local papers are interviewing their candidates, and some provinces are holding parties, hoping their suitor will be the winner. Magazines are talking about possible front-runners, and I saw a segment on the news last night about a few girls who were forming fan clubs and wearing shirts with the names of their favorites plastered all over them. The Selection has consumed the entire country.”

“It’s true,” Miss Marlee confirmed. “Kile living in the palace is no longer a secret.”

“Have they also discovered he has no interest in participating?” I asked, more irritation in my voice than I intended. Miss Marlee wasn’t to blame for this whole debacle.

“No,” she answered with a laugh. “Again, though, that has nothing to do with you.”

I smiled back. “Miss Marlee, you heard Mom. He doesn’t need to worry. I think Kile and I already know we wouldn’t be that great of a match, and there’s a chance I’ll walk away from this without a fiancé anyway.” A one hundred percent chance, to be more accurate. “Don’t worry about him hurting my feelings, because I’m just seeing how it goes,” I replied, as if this was normal, bringing in a slew of boys for me to pick from. “I’m not upset.”

“You said it’s taken over everything,” May began, concerned. “Do you think it will last?”

“I think it’ll hold things off long enough for the people to forget some of the unhappiness that’s been so prevalent lately and for us to come up with a way to address issues if they pop up again.” Mom sounded confident.

“When they pop up,” I corrected. “My life might be exciting for a while, but eventually people will start worrying about themselves again.” I went back to looking at the pictures, almost pitying these boys. They had no chance of winning and no idea they were part of a public distraction.

“This is strange,” I said, picking up one of the applications. “I don’t want to be judgmental, but look at this. I caught three different spelling mistakes on this one.”

Mom took the form. “It’s possible he was nervous.”

“Or an idiot,” I offered.

May chuckled.

“Don’t be so harsh, sweetie. It’s scary on their end, too.” Mom handed me the form, and I clipped it back to a picture of a boy with a very innocent face and a head full of wild blond curls.

“Wait, are you scared?” Aunt May asked, worry on my behalf coating her voice.

“No, of course not.”

Her expression relaxed back into its normal, beautiful, carefree state. “Can’t imagine you being scared of anything.” She winked at me.

It was comforting that at least one of us thought so.







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WHEN THEY STARTED POURING IN, I fled to my room, sketching in the sunlight on my balcony. Too many boisterous laughs and overly enthusiastic greetings. I wondered how long that camaraderie would last. This was a competition, after all. I mentally added finding ways to pit them against one another to my to-do list.

“I think we should put my hair up, Neena. I want to look mature today.”

“Excellent choice, my lady.” She scrubbed at my nails. “Any thoughts on a dress?”

“I’m thinking evening gown. Black would do nicely.”

She chuckled. “Looking to scare them?”

I couldn’t hold back my sly smile. “Only a little.”

We giggled together, and I was glad to have her with me. I was going to need her soothing words and calming touches over the next few weeks.

After my hair was dry, we braided and knotted it up like a crown, which only made my tiara look better. I found the black dress I’d worn for a New Year’s Eve party last year. It was covered in lace and fitted to the knee before it flared out to the floor. An oval of skin was exposed across my back, and the tiny butterfly sleeves set low across my shoulders. I had to admit it looked even more beautiful in the sun than it did under candles.

My clock struck one, and I made my way downstairs. We had converted one of the libraries on the fourth floor into a Men’s Parlor so the Selected could gather and relax during their time in the palace. It was about the same size as the Women’s Room and had plenty of places to sit, lots of books, and two televisions.

I was heading to that area of the palace now. We had decided that the suitors would be brought out one at a time to greet me and then escorted to the Men’s Parlor to get to know one another.

I saw a cluster of people down the hallway, including my parents and General Leger, and made my way toward them, trying not to let my nerves show. Dad looked stunned and Mom covered her mouth as I approached.

“Eadlyn … you seem so grown up.” She sighed as she touched my cheek and shoulder and hair, not fixing anything, just checking.

“Probably because I am.”

She nodded to herself, tears in her eyes. “You look the part. I never really thought I passed for a queen, but you … wholly perfect.”

“Stop it, Mom. You’re completely adored. You and Dad brought peace to the country. I haven’t done anything.”

She placed a finger under my chin. “Not yet. But you’re too determined to accomplish nothing.”

Before I could respond, Dad approached us. “Ready?”

“Yes,” I answered, steadying myself. That wasn’t the pep talk I’d been envisioning. “I don’t intend to eliminate anyone just yet. I figure everyone deserves at least a day.”

Dad smiled. “I think that’s wise.”

I took a breath. “All right, then. Let’s begin.”

“Do you want us to stay or go?” Mom asked.

I considered. “Go. For now, anyway.”

“As you wish,” Dad said. “General Leger and a few guards will be nearby. If you need anything, simply ask. We want you to have a wonderful day.”

“Thank you, Daddy.”

“No,” he said, embracing me, “thank you.”

He pulled away and offered his arm to Mom. They walked off, and I felt like I could see their happiness glowing simply in the way they moved.

“Your Highness,” General Leger said gently. I turned to see his smiling face. “Nervous?”

I shook my head slightly, almost convincing myself. “Bring the first one out.”

He nodded before making eye contact with a butler down the hall. A boy walked out of one of the libraries, straightening his cuff links as he approached. He was lean and a little on the short side, but he had a pleasant enough face.

He stopped in front of me, bowing. “Fox Wesley, Your Highness.”

I tilted my head in greeting. “A pleasure.”

He took in a breath. “You are so beautiful.”

“So I’ve been told. You can go now.” I swept my arm across my body, pointing to the Men’s Parlor.

Fox furrowed his eyebrows before giving me another bow and leaving.

The next boy was in front of me, tipping his head to greet me.

“Hale Garner, Your Highness.”

“Welcome, sir.”

“Thank you so much for letting us into your home. I hope to prove myself worthy of your hand more and more each day.”

I cocked my head curiously. “Really? And how will you do that today?”

He smiled. “Well, today I would let you know I come from an excellent family. My father used to be a Two.”

“Is that all?”

Undeterred, he went on. “I think it’s pretty impressive.”

“Not as impressive as having a father who used to be a One.”

His face faltered.

“You may go.”

He bowed and started to walk away. After a few steps he looked back. “I’m sorry to have offended you, Your Highness.”

And his face was so sad that I nearly told him he hadn’t. But that wouldn’t fall in line with my plan for the day.

A parade of endlessly unmemorable boys crossed my path. A little past the halfway point, Kile came through the line, stopping in front of me. For once his hair was styled in such a way that I could actually see his eyes.

“Your Highness,” he greeted.

“It’s ‘Royal Pain in the Ass’ to you, sir.”

He chuckled.

“So, how have they been treating you? Your mom says the papers spilled that you lived at the palace.”

He shook his head in shock. “I thought that it would be an immediate invitation to be pummeled by a bunch of jealous meatheads, but it turns out, most of them see me as an asset.”

“Oh?”

“They assume I know everything about you already. I’ve been bombarded with questions all morning.”

“And what are you telling them, exactly?”

He smirked, his smile slightly crooked. “What a pleasure you are, of course.”

“Right.” I rolled my eyes, not believing him for a second. “You can go ahead—”

“Listen, I want to tell you I’m sorry again. For calling you bratty.”

I shrugged. “You were upset.”

He nodded, accepting that excuse. “Still, it’s unfair all the same. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you are exceedingly spoiled.” He shook his head. “But you’re tough because you have to be. You’re going to be queen, and while I’ve seen things unfold in the palace, I’ve never actually had the weight of your work on me. It’s not fair for me to judge.”

I sighed. The polite thing would be to thank him. So, fine, I would be polite. “Thank you.”

“Sure.”

There was a long pause.

“Umm, the Men’s Parlor is that way,” I said, pointing.

“Right. See you later, I guess.”

I smiled to myself, noticing as he left that he held a notebook in the hand he’d kept behind his back. Kile looked better than usual thanks to the mandatory makeover, but he was still an annoying little bookworm.

It was clear that the gentleman after him was anything but.

His caramel-colored hair was brushed back, and he walked with his hands in his pockets, as if he’d strolled down these halls before. His demeanor actually threw me for a second. Was he here to meet me, or was I here to meet him?

“Your Majesty,” he greeted silkily as he sank into a bow.

“Highness,” I corrected.

“No, no. It’s just Ean.”

He cocked one cheek up into a smile.

“That was awful,” I said with a laugh.

“It was a risk I had to take. There are thirty-four other guys here. How else was I supposed to get you to remember me?”

His gaze was intent, and if I hadn’t dealt with so many politicians in my life, I might have been charmed.

“Very nice to meet you, sir.”

“And you, Your Highness. Hope to see you soon.”

He was followed by a boy with a drawl so thick I had to really focus to catch his words. Another asked when he was going to be paid. There was one who was sweating so much I had to call over a butler to give me a towel for my hand once he left, and the one after him blatantly stared at my chest for the entirety of our meeting. It was an ongoing pageant of disasters.

General Leger came to my side. “In case you’ve lost count, this is the last one.”

I threw back my head in relief. “Thank. Goodness!”

“I don’t think your parents will want to ask you for a follow-up, but you should go to them when you’re done.”

I gave him a look. “If you insist.”

He chuckled. “Go easy on them. Your father has a lot to deal with right now.”

“He’s got a lot to deal with? Did you see that one guy sweat?!”

“Can you blame him? You’re the princess. You have the capacity to sentence him to death, if you wanted.”

General Leger had these sparkling green eyes that shimmered with mischief, one of those men who grew even more handsome as he aged. I knew it for a fact because Miss Lucy once showed me a picture of their wedding day, and he seriously only got better looking. Sometimes, if he was tired or if the weather was bad, he walked with a limp, but it never slowed him. Maybe it was because I knew how much Miss Lucy loved him, but he always seemed like a safe place. If I hadn’t been nervous about him siding with Mom and Dad, I would have asked for his advice on how to get these boys to plead to go home. Something in his eyes made me think he’d know exactly how to do it.

“A few of them make me uneasy,” I confessed. The smooth words, the leering eyes. Even though I grew up knowing I was special, I didn’t like being looked at as a prize.

His expression grew sympathetic. “It’s a strange situation, I know. But you never have to be alone with anyone you don’t like, you’re free to dismiss someone for nothing more than a feeling, and even the dumbest of them wouldn’t be stupid enough to hurt you,” he promised. “Trust me; if someone did, I’d make sure they never walked again.”

He gave me a wink before moving away and signaling for the final contestant to be brought out.

I was a bit confused when it wasn’t one person but two. The first was dressed in a crisp suit, but the second wore only a button-up shirt. The slightly drabber one walked a few steps behind the other, his eyes trained on the floor. The first was nothing but smiles, and it looked like someone had tried to tame his hair and failed.

“Hello, Highness,” he greeted, his voice thick with an accent I couldn’t identify. “How are you?”

Confused but disarmed by his incredibly warm smile, I answered, “I’m well. It’s been a long day. I’m sure it has been for you, too.”

Behind him, the other boy leaned forward and whispered something in garbled words I couldn’t understand.

The first nodded. “Oh, yes, yes, but … eets nice to meeting you.” He used his hands as he spoke, trying to get the words across with his gestures.

I leaned in, not understanding, and somehow hoping a closer proximity would clear up his accent. “Excuse me?”

The boy behind him spoke up. “He says it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

I squinted, still confused.

“My name ees Henri.” He bowed in greeting, and I could see in his face that he meant to do this earlier and forgot.

I didn’t want to be rude, so I nodded my head in acknowledgment. “Hello, Henri.”

He lit up at the sound of his name, and he stood there, looking back and forth between the gentleman behind him and me.

“I can’t help but notice your accent,” I remarked in what I hoped was a friendly tone. “Where do you come from?”

“Umm, Swend—?” he began, but turned to the guest with him.

He nodded, carrying on in Henri’s place. “Sir Henri was born in Swendway, so he has a very strong Finnish accent.”

“Oh,” I replied. “And does he speak much English?”

Henri piped up. “English, no, no.” He didn’t seem embarrassed though. Instead he laughed it off.

“How are we supposed to get to know each other?”

The translator turned to Henri. “Miten saat tuntemaan toisensa?”

Henri pointed to the translator, who answered, “Through me, it seems.”

“Okay. Well. Umm.” I wasn’t prepared for this. Was it rude for me to dismiss him? Interacting with these people one-on-one was going to be awkward enough. I wasn’t prepared for a third person.

In that instant Henri’s application popped back into my mind. That was why some of the words were spelled wrong. He was guessing at them.

“Thank you. It’s very nice to meet you, too, Henri.”




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