Читать книгу The Selection series 1-3 - Кира Касс - Страница 27

MAXON HAD SAID HE WOULD see me at dinner, but he wasn’t there. The queen entered alone. We made our delicate bows as she took her seat, and then settled in ourselves.

I looked around the room to find the empty chair, assuming he was on a date, but everyone was here.

I had spent the afternoon replaying what I’d said to Maxon. No wonder I’d never had any friends. I was shockingly bad at it.

Just then Maxon and the king walked in. Maxon had his suit coat back on, but his hair was still a handsome mess. He and the king had their heads together as they walked. We hurried to stand. Their conversation was animated. Maxon was using his hands to express things and the king was nodding, acknowledging his son’s words but looking a little put out. When they reached the head table, King Clarkson gave Maxon a heavy pat on the back, his expression stern.

As the king turned to face us all, his face suddenly flooded with enthusiasm. “Oh, goodness, dear ladies, please sit.” He kissed the queen on her head and sat himself.

But Maxon remained standing.

“Ladies, I have an announcement.” Every eye focused in. What could he possibly have for us?

“I know you were all promised compensation for your participation in the Selection.” His voice was full of a ringing authority that I had only really heard once—the night he let me into the garden. He was much more attractive when he was using his status for a purpose. “However, there have been some new monetary allocations. If you are a natural Two or a Three, you will no longer be receiving financing. Fours and Fives will continue to receive compensation, but it will be slightly less than what it has been so far.”

I could see some of the girls had their mouths open in shock. Money was part of the deal. Celeste, for example, was fuming. I guessed if you had a lot of money, you got used to the idea of collecting it. And the thought that someone like me would be getting anything she wasn’t probably got under her skin.

“I do apologize for any inconvenience, but I will explain this all tomorrow night on the Capital Report. And this is a nonnegotiable situation. If anyone has a problem with this new arrangement and no longer wants to participate, you may leave after dinner.”

He sat down and started talking again to the king, who seemed more interested in his dinner than Maxon’s words. I was a little disheartened that my family would be receiving less money, but at least we were still getting some. I tried to focus on my dinner, but mostly I was wondering what this meant, and I wasn’t alone. Murmurs went up around the room.

“What do you think that’s about?” Tiny asked quietly.

“Maybe it’s a test,” Kriss offered. “I bet there are some people here who are only in it for the money.”

As I listened to her, I saw Fiona nudge Olivia and nod her head toward me. I turned away so she wouldn’t know I saw.

The girls offered up theories, and I kept watching Maxon. I tried to catch his attention so I could tug my ear, but he didn’t look my way.

Mary and I were alone in my room. Tonight I’d face Gavril—and the rest of the nation—on the Illéa Capital Report. Not to mention the other girls would be right there the whole time, watching one another and mentally critiquing. Saying I was nervous was a gross understatement. I fidgeted while Mary listed some possible questions, things she thought the public would want to know.

How was I enjoying the palace? What was the most romantic thing Maxon had done for me? Did I miss my family? Had I kissed Maxon yet?

I eyed Mary when she asked me that one. I’d been throwing out answers to the questions, trying not to think too hard. But I could tell she’d asked that one out of genuine curiosity. The smile on her face proved it.

“No! For goodness’ sake.” I tried to sound mad, but it was too funny to be upset about. I ended up smirking. And that made Mary giggle. “Oh, just … why don’t you clean something!”

She laughed outright, and before I could tell her to stop, Anne and Lucy burst through the doors with a garment bag.

Lucy was looking more excited than I’d seen her since the moment I’d walked in the first day, and Anne seemed quietly devious.

“What’s this about?” I asked as Lucy stopped in front of me to give a buoyant curtsy.

“We finished your dress for the Report, miss,” she replied.

My brow wrinkled together. “A new one? Why not the blue one in the closet? Didn’t you just finish that one? I love it.”

The three of them exchanged looks.

“What did you do?” I asked, pointing at the bag Anne was hanging up on the hook near the mirror.

“We talk to all the other maids, miss. We hear a lot of things,” Anne began. “We know that you and Lady Janelle are the only two who got more than one date with His Majesty, and from what we understand, there might be a link between you two.”

“How so?” I asked.

“From what we’ve heard,” Anne continued, “the reason she was asked to leave is because she said some rather unkind things about you. The prince did not agree and dismissed her immediately.”

“What?” I put a hand to my mouth, trying to hide my shock.

“We’re sure you’re his favorite, miss. Most everyone says so.” Lucy sighed happily.

“I think you’ve been misinformed,” I told them. Anne shrugged with a smile on her face, not concerned at all with my opinion.

Then I remembered where this had started. “What does any of this have to do with my dress?”

Mary came over to Anne and began unzipping the long bag, revealing a stunning red dress that shimmered in the fading light falling through the window.

“Oh, Anne,” I said, absolutely awestruck. “You’ve out-done yourself.”

She acknowledged my praise with a nod of her head. “Thank you, miss. We all worked on it, though.”

“It’s beautiful. But I still don’t understand what this has to do with anything you said.”

Mary pulled the dress out of the bag, airing it out, while Anne continued. “As I said, many people around the palace think you’re the prince’s favorite. He says kind things about you and prefers your company above the others’. And it seems the other girls have noticed.”

“What do you mean?”

“We go down to a workroom to do most of the sewing on your dresses. There are stores of material and a place to make shoes, and the other maids are in there, too. Everyone requested a blue dress for tonight. All the maids think it’s because you wear that color almost daily, and the others are trying to copy you.”

“It’s true,” Lucy chimed in. “Lady Tuesday and Lady Natalie didn’t put on any of their jewelry today. Just like you.”

“And most of the ladies are requesting simpler dresses, like the ones you prefer,” Mary stated.

“That still doesn’t explain why you made me a red dress.”

“To make you noticeable, of course,” Mary answered. “Oh, Lady America, if he really likes you, you have to keep standing out. You’ve been so generous with us, especially Lucy.” We all looked over to Lucy, who nodded in agreement and said, “You—you’re good enough to be the princess. You’d be amazing.”

I hunted for a way to get out of this. I hated being the center of attention.

“But what if everyone else is right? What if the reason Maxon likes me is because I’m not as over the top as everyone else, and then you go and put me in something like that and it ruins it all?”

“Every girl needs to shine once in a while. And we’ve known Maxon most of his life. He would love this.” Anne spoke with such assurance that I felt there was nothing I could do.

I didn’t know how to explain to them that the notes he sent me, the time he’d spent with me, meant nothing other than friendship between us. I couldn’t tell them. It would deflate their happiness, and besides, I needed to keep up appearances if I wanted to stay. And I did. I needed to stay.

“Okay, let’s try it on,” I conceded with a sigh.

Lucy jumped up and down with excitement until Anne reminded her that it wasn’t proper. I slid the silky dress over my head, and they stitched a handful of places they hadn’t quite finished. Mary’s skilled hands held my hair in various ways to see which looked best with the dress, and within half an hour, I was ready.

The set was arranged a little differently tonight for our special show. The thrones for the royal family were off to one side as always, and our seats were on the opposite side again. But the podium was off center, leaving the space focused on two tall chairs. A microphone was resting on one for us to take when we spoke to Gavril. I got queasy just thinking about it.

Sure enough, the room was full of dresses in every shade of blue. Some of them fell closer to green, others closer to purple, but it was clear there was a theme. I felt immediately uncomfortable. I caught Celeste’s eye right away and decided to just stay away from her until I absolutely had to go over to the seats.

Kriss and Natalie walked past, having just checked their makeup one last time. They both looked a little unhappy, though sometimes it was hard to tell with Natalie. Kriss at least looked somewhat different from the crowd as well. Her blue dress was melting into white, like delicate strands of ice were weaving their way to the floor.

“You look stunning, America,” she said in a way that was slightly more an accusation than praise.

“Thanks. That dress is gorgeous.”

She ran her hands down her torso, straightening imaginary wrinkles. “Yeah, I liked it, too.”

Natalie ran her hand across one of the capped sleeves on my dress. “What’s that material? It’s really going to shine under the lights.”

“I have no idea, actually. We don’t get a lot of the nice stuff as Fives,” I said with a shrug. I looked down at the fabric. I’d had at least one other dress made from the same type of cloth, but I hadn’t bothered learning the name.

“America!”

I looked up to see Celeste standing right beside me. Smiling.

“Celeste.”

“Could you come with me for just one moment? I need some help.”

Without waiting for an answer, she pulled me away from Kriss and Natalie and around the heavy blue curtain that was the backdrop of the Report studio.

“Take off your dress,” she ordered as she started unzipping her own.

“What?”

“I want your dress. Take it off. Ugh! Damn hook,” she said, still trying to get out of her clothes.

“I’m not taking off my dress,” I said, and went to leave. I didn’t get very far, though, as Celeste buried her nails into my arm and jerked me back.

“Ouch!” I cried, grabbing my arm. It looked like there would be marks but hopefully no blood.

“Shut up. Take off the dress. Now.”

I stood there, my face set, refusing to budge. Celeste was just going to have to get over not being the center of Illéa.

“I could take it off for you,” she offered coldly.

“I’m not afraid of you, Celeste,” I said as I crossed my arms. “This dress was made for me, and I’m going to wear it. Next time you pick out your clothes, maybe you should try being yourself instead of me. Oh, wait, but maybe then Maxon would see what a brat you are and send you home, huh?”

Without a second of hesitation, she reached up and ripped one of my sleeves off and walked away. I gasped in outrage but was too stunned to do anything more. I looked down and saw a tattered scrap of fabric dangling pathetically in front of me. I heard Silvia calling for everyone to come to their seats, so I walked around the side of the curtain as bravely as I could manage.

Marlee had saved me a seat beside her, and I saw the shocked look on her face as I came into view.

“What happened to your dress?” she whispered.

“Celeste,” I explained in disgust.

Emmica and Samantha, who were sitting in front of us, turned around.

“She tore your dress?” Emmica asked.

“Yes.”

“Go to Maxon and turn her in,” she pleaded. “That girl’s a nightmare.”

“I know,” I said with a sigh. “I’ll tell him next time I see him.”

Samantha looked sad. “Who knows when that will be? I thought we’d get to spend more time with him.”

“America, lift your arm,” Marlee instructed. She expertly tucked my tattered sleeve into the side of my dress as Emmica plucked away a few stray threads. You couldn’t even tell anything had happened to it. As for the nail marks, well, at least they were on my left arm and away from the camera.

It was almost time to start. Gavril was flipping through notes as the royal family came in at last. Maxon had on a dark blue suit with a pin of the national emblem on his lapel. He looked sharp and calm.

“Good evening, ladies,” he sang with a smile.

A chorus of “Majesty” and “Highness” fell over him.

“Just so you know, I’ll be giving one brief announcement and then introducing Gavril. It’ll be a nice change; he’s always introducing me!” He chuckled, and we all followed. “I know some of you are probably a little nervous, but you have no need to be. Please, just be yourselves. The people want to know you.” Our eyes met a few times while he was talking, but nothing long enough for me to read him. He didn’t seem to notice the dress. My maids would be disappointed.

He walked over to the podium, calling out “Good luck” over his shoulder.

I could tell something was going on. I assumed this announcement of his would be related to what he’d told us yesterday, but I still couldn’t guess at what it all meant. Maxon’s little mystery distracted me, and I wasn’t so nervous anymore. I felt all right as the anthem played and the camera settled squarely on Maxon’s face. I’d been watching the Report since I was a child. Maxon had never addressed the country before, not like this. I wished I could have told him good luck, too.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen of Illéa. I know that tonight is an exciting night for us all as the country gets to finally hear from the twenty-five remaining women in the Selection. I can’t begin to express how excited I am for you to meet them. I’m sure you will all agree that any one of these amazing young ladies would be a wonderful leader and future princess.

“But before we get to that, I’d like to announce a new project I am working on that is of great importance to me. Having met these ladies, I’ve been exposed to the wide world outside our palace, a world that I rarely get to see. I’ve been told of its remarkable goodness and made aware of its unimaginable darkness. Through speaking to these women, I’ve embraced the importance of the masses outside these walls. I have been woken to the suffering of some of our lower castes, and I intend to do something about it.”

What?

“It will be at least three months before we can set this up properly, but around the new year, there will be public assistance for food in every Province Services Office. Any Five, Six, Seven, or Eight may go there any evening for a free, nutritious meal. Please know that these women before you have all sacrificed some or all of their compensation to help fund this important program. And while this assistance may not be able to last forever, we will keep it running as long as we can.”

I kept trying to swallow up the gratitude, the awe, but a few tears leaked out. I was still aware enough of what was coming next to worry about my makeup but so appreciative that it was no longer the top priority.

“I feel that no good leader can let the masses go unfed. Most of Illéa is comprised of these lower castes, and we have overlooked these people far too long. That is why I am moving forward and why I am asking others to join me. Twos, Threes, Fours … the roads you drive on don’t pave themselves. Your houses aren’t cleaned by magic. Here is your opportunity to acknowledge that truth by donating at your local Province Services Office.”

He paused. “By birth you have been blessed, and it is time to acknowledge that blessing. I will have further updates as this project progresses, and I thank you all for your attention. But now, let’s get to the real reason you all tuned in tonight. Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Gavril Fadaye!”

There was a smattering of applause from everyone in the room, though it was obvious not everyone was enthusiastic about Maxon’s announcement. The king, for instance, was clapping but without excitement, though the queen was radiant with pride. The advisers also seemed torn about whether or not this was a good idea.

“Thank you so much for that introduction, Your Majesty!” Gavril announced as he ran onto the set. “Very well done! If this whole prince thing doesn’t work out, you should consider a job in entertainment.”

Maxon laughed out loud as he walked to his seat. The cameras were focused on Gavril now, but I watched Maxon and his parents. I didn’t understand why their reactions were mixed.

“People of Illéa, do we have a treat for you! This evening we’ll be getting the inside scoop from each of these young women. We know you’ve been dying to meet them and hear how things are coming along with our Prince Maxon, so tonight … we’re just going to ask! Let’s get started with”—Gavril looked at his note cards—“Miss Celeste Newsome of Clermont!”

Celeste moved sinuously from her seat in the top row and down the steps. She actually kissed Gavril on both cheeks before she sat down. Her interview was predictable, and so was Bariel’s. They tried to be sexy, bending forward a lot to get clear shots down their dresses. It looked fake. I watched their faces in the monitors as they kept glancing at Maxon and winking. Every once in a while, like when Bariel tried to smoothly lick her lips, Marlee and I made brief eye contact and then had to look away so we wouldn’t laugh.

Others were more composed. Tiny’s voice matched her name, and she seemed to fold in on herself as the interview progressed. But I knew she was sweet and hoped that Maxon wouldn’t count her out just because she wasn’t a great public speaker. Emmica was poised, as was Marlee, the main difference being that Marlee’s voice was so full of excitement and enthusiasm it flew higher and higher as she talked.

Gavril asked a variety of questions, but there were two that seemed to pop up with everyone: “What do you think of Prince Maxon?” and “Are you the girl who yelled at him?” I wasn’t looking forward to telling the country that I had chided the future king. Thank goodness that, as far as anyone knew, I’d behaved that way only once.

Everyone was proud to say they weren’t the girl who’d yelled at him. Then every single girl thought that Maxon was nice. That was almost always the word: nice. Celeste said that he was handsome. Bariel said he was quietly powerful, which I thought sounded creepy. A few girls were asked if Maxon had kissed them yet. They all blushed and said no. After the third or fourth no, Gavril turned on Maxon.

“Haven’t you kissed any of them yet?” he asked, shocked.

“They’ve only been here two weeks! What kind of man do you think I am?” Maxon replied. He said it lightheartedly but seemed to squirm in his seat a little. I wondered if he’d ever kissed anyone.

Samantha had just finished saying she was having a wonderful time, and then Gavril called me. The other girls applauded as I stood, like we had for everyone. I gave Marlee a nervous smile. I focused on my feet as I walked over, but once I got into the chair, I found it was easy to look right past Gavril’s shoulder at Maxon. He gave me a little wink as I picked up the microphone. I felt instantly calmer. I didn’t have to win anyone over.

I shook Gavril’s hand and sat down across from him. Up close, I could finally see the pin on his lapel. It obviously lost its detail through the camera, but now I saw that it wasn’t just the lines and curls of a forte sign, but a small X was engraved in the middle, making the whole thing look almost like a star. It was beautiful.

“America Singer. That’s an interesting name you have there. Is there a story behind it?” Gavril asked.

I sighed in relief. This was an easy one.

“Yes, actually. While my mom was pregnant with me, I kicked a lot. She said she had a fighter on her hands, so she named me after the country that fought so hard to keep this land together. It’s odd, but to her credit, she was right—we’ve been fighting ever since.”

Gavril laughed. “She sounds like a feisty woman herself.”

“She is. I get a lot of my stubbornness from her.”

“So you’re stubborn, then? Have a bit of a temper?”

I saw Maxon covering his mouth with his hands, laughing.

“Sometimes.”

“If you have a temper, would you happen to be the one who yelled at our prince?”

I sighed. “Yes, it was me. And right now, my mother is having a heart attack.”

Maxon called out to Gavril, “Get her to tell the whole story!”

Gavril whipped his head back and forth quickly. “Oh! What’s the whole story?”

I tried to glare at Maxon, but the whole situation was so silly, it didn’t quite work.

“I got a little … claustrophobic the first night, and I was desperate to get outside. The guards wouldn’t let me through the doors. I was actually about to faint in this one guard’s arms, but Prince Maxon was walking by and made them open the doors for me.”

“Aw,” Gavril said, tilting his head to one side.

“Yes, and then he followed to make sure I was all right …. But I was stressed out, so when he spoke to me, I basically ended up accusing him of being stuck-up and shallow.”

Gavril chuckled deeply at this. I looked past him to Maxon, who was shaking with laughter. But the more embarrassing thing was that the king and queen were laughing along with him. I didn’t turn to look at the girls, but I heard some of them giggling, too. Well, good. Maybe now they would finally stop seeing me as any sort of threat. I was just someone Maxon found entertaining.

“And he forgave you?” Gavril asked in a slightly more sober tone.

“Oddly enough.” I shrugged.

“Well, since the two of you are on good terms again, what sort of activities have you been doing together?” Gavril was back to business.

“We usually just go for walks around the garden. He knows I like it outside. And we talk.” It sounded pathetic after what some of the other girls had said. Trips to the theater, going hunting, horseback riding—those were impressive next to my story.

But I suddenly understood why he had been speed dating over the last week. The girls needed something to tell Gavril, so he had to provide it. It still seemed weird that he hadn’t mentioned any of it to me, but at least I knew why he had been away.

“That sounds very relaxing. Would you say the garden is your favorite thing about the palace?”

I smiled. “Maybe. But the food is exquisite, so …”

Gavril laughed again.

“You are the last Five left in the competition, yes? Do you think that hurts your chances of becoming the princess?”

The word sprang from my lips without thought. “No!”

“Oh, my! You do have a spirit there!” Gavril seemed pleased to have gotten such an enthusiastic response. “So you think you’ll beat out all the others, then? Make it to the end?”

I thought better of myself. “No, no. It’s not like that. I don’t think I’m better than any of the other girls; they’re all amazing. It’s just … I don’t think Maxon would do that, just discount someone because of their caste.”

I heard a collective gasp. I ran over the sentence in my head. It took me a minute to catch my mistake: I’d called him Maxon. Saying that to another girl behind closed doors was one thing, but to say his name without the word “Prince” in front of it was incredibly informal in public. And I’d said it on live television.

I looked to see if Maxon was angry. He had a calm smile on his face. So he wasn’t mad … but I was embarrassed. I blushed fiercely.

“Ah, so it seems you really have gotten to know our prince. Tell me, what do you think of Maxon?”

I had thought of several answers while I was waiting for my turn. I was going to make fun of his laugh or talk about the pet name he wanted his wife to call him. It seemed like the only way to save the situation was to get back the comedy. But as I lifted my eyes to make one of my comments, I saw Maxon’s face.

He really wanted to know.

And I couldn’t poke fun at him, not when I had a chance to say what I’d really started to think now that he was my friend. I couldn’t joke about the person who’d saved me from facing absolute heartbreak at home, who fed my family boxes of sweets, who ran to me worried that I was hurt if I asked for him.

A month ago, I had looked at the TV and seen a stiff, distant, boring person—someone I couldn’t imagine anyone loving. And while he wasn’t anything close to the person I did love, he was worthy of having someone to love in his life.

“Maxon Schreave is the epitome of all things good. He is going to be a phenomenal king. He lets girls who are supposed to be wearing dresses wear jeans and doesn’t get mad when someone who doesn’t know him clearly mislabels him.” I gave Gavril a keen look, and he smiled. And behind him, Maxon looked intrigued. “Whoever he marries will be a lucky girl. And whatever happens to me, I will be honored to be his subject.”