The Heir

  Ahren stood, kissing Mom on her cheek before he turned to leave.

  “Wait, Ahren, I need to talk to you,” I said, standing as well.

  “See you in a bit, sweetie?” Dad asked, glancing at me.

  “I’ll be up shortly. I promise.”

  Ahren held out his arm for me, and we walked together from the room. I could feel how we drew attention. It was like an energy that followed me nearly everywhere I went. I often reveled in that feeling.

  “What do you want to talk about?”

  I spoke through my smile. “I’ll tell you once we’re in the hall.”

  His step faltered. “Uh-oh.”

  When we rounded the corner, I pulled back and whacked him on the shoulder.

  “Ow!”

  “I went on a date last night, and it was awful, and I blame you personally.”

  Ahren rubbed his arm. “What happened? Was he mean?”

  “No.”

  “Did he . . .” He lowered his voice. “Did he try to take advantage of you?”

  “No.” I crossed my arms.

  “Was he rude?”

  I sighed. “Not exactly, but it was . . . awkward.”

  He threw both of his arms up in exasperation. “Well, of course it was. If you saw him again, it would be better. That’s the point. It takes time to get to know someone.”

  “I don’t want him to get to know me! I don’t want any of them to get to know me!”

  His face fell into a confused scowl. “I always thought that you were the one person in the world I would understand no matter what. I thought you’d always understand me, too. But you tease me for being in love, and when the opportunity to find someone falls into your lap, you hate it.”

  I pointed a finger at his chest. “Wasn’t it you who said this made no sense for me? Weren’t you looking forward to how I’d make them squirm? I thought you and I both agreed this was a joke. And now, suddenly, you’re the Selection’s biggest cheerleader.”

  The hallway was painfully silent. I waited for Ahren to argue with me, or at least to explain.

  “Sorry I let you down. But I think this is about more than a date. You need to figure out why you’re so scared.”

  I raised myself to my full height. “I’m the next queen of Illéa. I’m scared of nothing.”

  He backed away. “Keep saying that, Eadlyn. See if it fixes the problem.”

  Ahren didn’t get too far down the hall though. Josie had friends over this morning, and the whole lot of them basically melted at the sight of his face. I recognized one of them from the day in the garden and only remembered her because she had addressed me correctly.

  I watched as they gave shy grins and ducked their heads. Ahren, to his credit, was polite as always.

  “Josie has said your mastery of literature is very impressive,” one of the girls said.

  Ahren looked away. “She’s exaggerating. I do love to read, and I write a little, but nothing worth sharing.”

  Another girl stepped forward. “I doubt that’s true. I bet our tutor would be happy to have you come teach us sometime. I’d love to hear your thoughts on a few of the books we’ve been reading.”

  Josie clasped her hands together. “Oh, yes, please, Ahren. Won’t you come teach us?”

  Her friends giggled at her casually using his first name, a habit from growing up beside him.

  “I’m afraid I have far too much to do at the present. Perhaps another time. You ladies have a wonderful day.” He bowed kindly and continued down the hall, and the girls didn’t even wait until he was out of earshot to start giggling like idiots.

  “He’s so handsome,” one said, ready to burst with adoration.

  Josie sighed. “I know. He’s so sweet to me, too. We took a walk together the other day, and he was saying that he thinks I’m one of the prettiest girls he’s ever met.”

  I couldn’t take it anymore. I barged past them, not slowing down. “You’re too young for him, and he has a girlfriend, Josie. Let it go.”

  I rounded up the stairs to go to the office. I knew I’d feel better once I did something manageable, something I could check off a list.

  “See,” Josie said, not bothering to lower her voice. “I told you she was awful.”

  CHAPTER 16

  WORK DIDN’T MAKE ME FEEL better. I was still very unsettled about last night with Hale, and any time Ahren and I fought, it was like I lost my equilibrium. The whole planet was off its axis. Adding Josie’s ridiculous comments to the mix was the cherry on top.

  My head was swarming with other people’s words and my own questions, and I was positive the day was going to end up being a waste.

  “You know,” Dad said, peeking up from his work. “I got distracted early on, too. It gets easier to manage as the group gets smaller.”

  I smiled. Fine, let him think I had a crush. “Sorry, Dad.”

  “Not at all. Do you need me to cover your work for you today? Take the afternoon off?”

  I straightened my papers. “No, that’s not happening. I’m perfectly capable.”

  “I wasn’t doubting you, love. I just—”

  “I’ve already taken so much time away from work for this. I don’t want to neglect my duties. I’m fine.”

  I didn’t mean to sound so snippy with him.

  “All right.” He adjusted his glasses and started reading again. I tried to do the same.

  What did Ahren mean, it was more than the date that upset me? I knew why I was mad. And since when had I given him a hard time about Camille? Sure, I didn’t talk to her very much, but that was because we didn’t have a lot in common. I didn’t dislike the girl.

  I shook my head, focusing on the papers.

  “It would be fine if you needed to clear your head,” Dad offered again. “You could go spend some time with one of the Selected and come back after lunch. Besides, you’ll want to have something to talk about on the Report.”

  I felt a flurry of emotions, trying to figure out how I would discuss how exposed I’d felt after my date with Hale . . . or how stunned I felt after my kiss with Kile. Trying to balance the conflicting feelings around those two moments was dizzying without adding anything else.

  “I went on a date last night, Dad. Isn’t that enough?”

  He swallowed as he thought. “Eventually you need to start alerting us when you have dates. A few pictures from some of them would be good for everyone. And I think you need at least one more date before Friday.”

  “Really?” I whined.

  “Do something you enjoy. You’re treating it like work.”

  “That’s because it is!” I protested with an incredulous laugh.

  “It can be fun, Eadlyn. Give it a chance.” He looked at me over his glasses, almost like he was daring me.

  “Fine. One date. That’s all you get, old man,” I teased.

  He chuckled. “Old man is right.”

  Dad went back to his papers, satisfied. I sat there, peeking furtively at him from my desk. He stretched often, rubbing the back of his neck, and even though there weren’t any urgent tasks today, he ran his hands through his hair as if he was troubled.

  Now that Hale had put it in my head, I was going to be watching him often.

  I decided to make Baden my next target. Maybe Aunt May knew something, because Baden didn’t come in brashly or, conversely, like he was trying to hide. When someone else stole a moment that should have been solely his at the tea party, he didn’t make a fuss. And when I approached him for time alone, he turned the focus back to me.

  “You play the piano, right?” Baden asked when I invited him on a date.

  “I do. Not as well as my mother, but I’m pretty proficient.”

  “I play the guitar. Maybe we could make some music.”

  It wasn’t anything I would have thought of. Perhaps music would mean less talking, though, and I was all up for that.

  “Sure. I’ll secure the Women’s Room for us.”

  “Am I even allowed in ther
e?” he asked skeptically.

  “When you’re with me, yes. And I’ll make sure it’s empty. My favorite piano in the palace is there. Do you need a guitar?”

  He smirked. “Nah. I brought my own.”

  Baden ran a hand over his cropped hair, seeming very relaxed. I was still attempting to come across as distant and impenetrable, but I could tell there were a handful of guys who weren’t bothered by my attitude at all, and Baden was one of them.

  “What are the chances of the room being empty now?” he asked.

  I smiled at his enthusiasm. “High, actually, but I have work to do.”

  He bent down, his eyes devilish. “But don’t you always have work to do? I bet you could stay up till three in the morning if you had to.”

  “True, but—”

  “And it’ll all still be there when you get back.”

  I clasped my hands and considered it. “I’m really not supposed to . . .”

  He started chanting slowly. “Skip it, skip it, skip it!”

  My lips were pressed together, trying to hide my smile. Really, I ought to tell someone. I was going to have yet another undocumented date . . . but maybe I deserved one more. Next week, I bargained with myself. After this Report, I’ll worry about the cameras.

  “Go get your guitar,” I said, caving.

  “Two minutes!” He bolted down the hall, and I shook my head. I hoped he wouldn’t tell everyone I was an utter pushover.

  I walked to the Women’s Room, expecting to find it empty. Except for Miss Marlee sitting alone in a corner reading, I was right.

  “Your Highness,” she greeted. It was one of those funny things. Plenty of people called me that, but when Mom’s friends said it, they might as well have been calling me pumpkin or kiddo or baby. I didn’t mind it, but it was always kind of strange.

  “Where’s Mom?”

  She closed her book. “Migraine. I went to see her, and she made me leave. Any sound was excruciating.”

  “Oh. I was supposed to be having a date right now, but maybe I should go check on her.”

  “No,” she insisted. “She needed rest, and both your parents would be pleased for you to have a date.”

  I considered. If she was really feeling that bad, maybe it would be better to wait.

  “Umm, all right. Well, would it be okay if I used the room? Baden and I are going to make music.” I squinted. “I mean that literally, by the way.”

  She giggled and stood. “That’s no problem at all.”

  “Is it weird for you?” I asked suddenly. “That Kile is a part of this? That you know I’m about to go on a date with someone who isn’t him? Is it, you know, okay?”

  “It was quite a shock to see you two on the front page of every paper,” she said, shaking her head like she couldn’t fathom how it had happened. Then she came close, as if we were trying to keep a secret. “But you forget your parents aren’t the only ones here who’ve been through a Selection.”

  I felt like a downright idiot. Why hadn’t I thought of that?

  “I remember watching your father scramble to find time for everyone, trying to please those around him while searching for someone who’d be a good partner. And it’s even harder for you, because it’s bigger than that. You’re making history while trying to divert attention. Saying it’s tough is an understatement.”

  “True,” I admitted, my shoulders sagging under the weight of it all.

  “I don’t know how you and Kile ended up . . . umm . . . in that position, but I’d be surprised if he made it to the top of your list. All the same, I’m thankful to you.”

  I was taken aback. “Why? I haven’t done anything.”

  “You have,” she contradicted. “You’re giving your parents time, which is very generous of you. But you’re giving me time, too. I’m not sure how much longer I can keep him here.”

  A knock came at the door.

  I turned. “That’ll be Baden.”

  She placed a hand on my shoulder. “You stay put. I’ll let him in.”

  “Oh!” Baden exclaimed when Miss Marlee opened the door for him.

  She chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’m on my way out. She’s waiting for you.”

  Baden looked past her to find me, smiling the entire time. He looked so triumphant, so pleased to be alone together.

  “Is that it?” he asked, pointing just behind me.

  I spun, taking in the piano. “Yes. The tone on this one is wonderful, and this room has great acoustics.”

  He followed me, and I could hear his guitar case bump into his leg or a couch as he navigated through the maze of seats.

  Without asking, he found an armless chair and pulled it up beside the piano. I trilled my fingers over the keys, doing a quick scale.

  Baden tuned his guitar, which was dark and worn. “How long have you been playing?”

  “As long as I can remember. I think Mom sat me down next to her as a toddler, and I just went along with whatever she did.”

  “People have always said your mother was a fantastic musician. I think I heard her play on TV once, for a Christmas program or something.”

  “She always plays a lot at Christmastime.”

  “Her favorite time of the year?” he guessed.

  “In a way, sure, but in others, no. And she usually plays when she’s worried or sad.”

  “How do you mean?” He tightened a string, finishing his preparations.

  “Oh, you know,” I hedged. “Holidays can be stressful.” I didn’t feel right exposing Mom’s memories, losing her father and sister during the same time of year, not to mention a horrific attack that nearly stole my father.

  “I can’t imagine being sad at Christmastime here. If she was poor, I could see why she’d be anxious.”

  “Why?”

  He smiled to himself. “Because it’s hard to watch all your friends getting piles of gifts when you don’t get any.”

  “Oh.”

  He took the stab at our social differences in stride, not getting mad or calling me a snob, which some might have done. I examined Baden, trying to learn more. The guitar was old, but it was hard to make a call about his financial status while he wore palace-issued clothes. I remembered what Aunt May said about his last name.

  “You’re in college, right?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Well, it’s on hold for now. Some of my professors were thrown off, but most of them are letting me send assignments back to finish the semester from here.”

  “That’s really impressive.”

  He shrugged. “I know what I want. So I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get it.”

  I gave him a curious smirk. “How does the Selection fit into that?”

  “Wow, no holding back there.” Again, no anger. He almost treated it as a joke.

  “It’s a fair question, I think.” I started playing one of the classics Mom had taught me. Baden knew the song and joined in. I’d never considered how it would sound with strings.

  The music won, and we dropped the conversation. But we didn’t stop communicating. He watched my eyes, and I studied his fingers. I’d never played with anyone before other than Mom, and I was engaged in a way I didn’t know I could be.

  We played on with no more than two or three missteps across the entire song. Baden was beaming as we finished.

  “I only know a handful of classics. Some Beethoven and Debussy, mostly.”

  “You’re so talented! I’ve never imagined songs like that on a guitar.”

  “Thanks.” He was only the slightest bit bashful. “To answer your question, I’m here because I want to get married. I haven’t dated much, but when this opportunity came up, I thought it might be worth a try. Am I in love with you? Well, not today. I’d like to know if I could be though.”

  Something about his tone made me trust he was being completely transparent. He was trying to find a mate, and I was someone he would never have met if he hadn’t put his name in for the drawing.

  “I’d like to
make you a promise, if that’s okay,” he offered.

  “What kind of promise?”

  He plucked at a few strings. “A promise about us.”

  “If you’re vowing to give me your unwavering devotion, it’s still too soon.”

  Baden shook his head. “No, that’s not in my plan.”

  “Okay, then. I’m listening.” His fingers outlined a slightly familiar melody, not a classic, but something I knew. . . . I couldn’t pinpoint it.

  “If you found that I wasn’t a reasonable choice for you, you’d send me home so you could focus on your other options. What I want to promise you is this: if I can tell that you’re not the right one for me, I’ll tell you. I don’t want either of us to waste our time.”

  I nodded. “I’d appreciate that.”

  “Good,” he said smartly, then began bellowing: “Well she walks up in the room with that smile, smile, smile and those legs that go on for a mile, mile, mile! Eyes searching the room for a little fun!”

  I laughed, finally recognizing the tune he was playing. It was a Choosing Yesterday song that I sang in the bath more often than I cared to admit.

  “I can’t look away from her face, face, face until she starts dancing to that bass, bass, bass! I can’t help it, that girl is number one!”

  I joined in on the piano, giggling a little too hard to get all the notes right for the chorus. But we both sang along, botching up the melody and having too much fun to care.

  “Oh, she can’t be more than seventeen, but she’s all grown up if you know what I mean. She’s the prettiest thing that I’ve ever seen, yeah, she’s my”—BAM BAM!—“she’s my, she’s my queen!”

  I kept up with Baden through most of the song, even though I really only had experience with classical music.

  “Why are you bothering with college? You should be touring,” I cheered.

  “That’s my backup plan if the prince thing doesn’t pan out.” He was so candid, so real. “Thanks for playing hooky for me.”

  “No problem. I should get back to work though.”

  “That was the shortest date in history!” he complained.

  I shrugged. “You would have had more time if you waited until tonight.”

  He huffed. “Fine. Lesson learned.”