The Selection

  I went into the upstairs foyer where we had all met yesterday. I was the first one there, so I took to a small sofa to wait for the rest. Slowly, others started to trickle in. I quickly noticed a theme. Every one of the girls looked phenomenal. They had their hair pulled up in intricate braids or curls, away from their faces. The makeup was meticulously done, dresses pressed to perfection.

  I had probably chosen my plainest dress for the first day, and everyone else’s had something sparkly on it. I saw two girls walk into the foyer and realize they were wearing almost the exact same dress. They both turned back around to change. Everyone wanted to stand out, and they all did in their own ways. Even me.

  Everyone here looked like a One. I looked like a Five in a nice dress.

  I thought it had taken me a long time to get ready, but it took the other girls much, much longer. Even when Silvia came to escort us downstairs, we still had to wait for Celeste and Tiny, who, true to her name, had to have her dress taken in.

  Once we were all assembled, everyone started to move toward the stairs. There was a gilded mirror on the wall, and we all turned to take one last peek as we descended. I caught a glimpse of myself next to Marlee and Tiny. I looked positively plain.

  But at least I looked like me, and that was a minor consolation.

  We went downstairs expecting to be taken into the dining room, where we had been told we would be eating. But instead we were taken into the Great Room, where individual tables and chairs had been set up in rows, all with plates, glasses, and silverware. There wasn’t any food, though. Not even a hopeful smell. In the front corner, tucked away in a small nook, I noticed a small set of couches. A few cameramen, stationed around the room, filmed our arrival.

  We filed in, sitting wherever we wanted as there were no place cards here. Marlee was in the row in front of me, and Ashley sat to my right. I didn’t bother to take in anyone else. It seemed like several people had made at least one ally, just as I had in Marlee. Ashley had chosen her seat beside me, so I assumed she wanted my company. Still, she didn’t speak. Maybe she was upset over the news reports last night. Then again, she was quiet when we met. Maybe it was just her nature. I figured the worst she could do was not answer back, so I decided to at least acknowledge her.

  “Ashley, you look lovely.”

  “Oh, thank you,” she said quietly. We both checked to make sure the camera crews were far away. Not that this was private, but who wanted them around for everything? “Isn’t it fun to wear all this jewelry? Where’s yours?”

  “Umm, it was too heavy for me. I decided to go light instead.”

  “It is heavy! I feel like I have twenty pounds on my head. Still, I couldn’t pass it up. Who knows how long any of us will stay?”

  That was funny. Ashley had seemed quietly confident from the very beginning. With the way she looked and carried herself, she was prime princess material. It seemed strange that she would doubt herself.

  “But don’t you think you’ll win?” I asked.

  “Of course,” she whispered. “But it’s rude to say so!” She winked at me, which made me giggle.

  Yet another mistake on my part. That giggle caught the attention of Silvia, who was walking in the door.

  “Tsk-tsk. A lady never raises her voice above a gentle whisper.”

  Every murmur hushed. I wondered if the cameras had caught my mistake, and my cheeks filled with warmth.

  “Hello again, ladies. I hope you all had a restful first night in the palace, because now our work begins. Today I will begin to instruct you on conduct and protocol, a process that will continue for the duration of your stay. Please know that I will be reporting any missteps on your part to the royal family.

  “I know it sounds harsh, but this isn’t a game to be taken lightly. Someone in this room will be the next princess of Illéa. It is no small task. You must endeavor to elevate yourselves, no matter your previous station. You will become ladies from the ground up. And this very morning, you will receive your first lesson.

  “Table manners are very important, and before you can eat in front of the royal family, you must be aware of certain etiquette. The faster we get through this little lesson, the sooner you get to have your breakfasts, so faces forward, please.”

  She began explaining how we would be served from the right, which glass was for what beverage, and to never, ever reach for a pastry with our hands. Always use the tongs. Hands were to rest in our lap when not in use, napkin draped underneath. We weren’t to speak unless spoken to. Of course, we could talk quietly to our neighbors, but always at a level befitting the palace. She eyed me seriously as she gave that last note.

  Silvia went on and on in her elegant tone, taunting my stomach. Even if they were small, I was used to getting my three meals at home. I needed food. I was getting a bit grumpy when we heard a knock at the door. Two guards stepped away, and in came Prince Maxon.

  “Good morning, ladies,” he called.

  The lift in the room was tangible. Backs straightened, locks of hair were tossed over shoulders, and hems were rearranged. I looked not at Maxon, but Ashley, whose chest was moving fast. She stared in such a way that I felt embarrassed for noticing.

  “Your Majesty,” Silvia said with a low curtsy.

  “Hello, Silvia. If you don’t mind, I would like to introduce myself to these young women.”

  “Of course.” She bowed again.

  Prince Maxon surveyed the room and found me. Our eyes met for a moment, and he smiled. I wasn’t expecting that. I was thinking that he’d probably changed his opinion of how to act toward me in the night, and I’d be called out in front of everyone for my behavior. But maybe he wasn’t mad at all. Maybe he found me entertaining. He had to get incredibly bored around here. Whatever the reason, that brief smile led me to believe that maybe this wasn’t going to be such a terrible experience after all. I settled into the decision I couldn’t make last night and hoped Prince Maxon would hear out my apology.

  “Ladies, if you don’t mind, one at a time I’ll be calling you over to meet with me. I’m sure you’re all eager to eat, as am I. So I won’t take up too much of your time. Do forgive me if I’m slow with names; there are quite a few of you.”

  There was a low rumble of giggles. Quickly, he went over to the girl in the front row on the far right and escorted her over to the couches. They spoke for a few minutes, then both rose. He bowed to her, she curtsied back. She went back to her table, spoke to the girl beside her, and it happened all over again. These conversations lasted only a few minutes and were spoken in hushed voices. He was trying to get a feel for each girl in less than five minutes.

  “I wonder what he wants to know,” Marlee turned and asked.

  “Maybe he wants to know which actors you think are the most handsome. Keep your mental list ready,” I whispered back. Marlee and Ashley both chuckled at that.

  We weren’t the only ones talking. Around the room voices lifted like gentle hums, as we tried to distract ourselves until it was our turn. Not to mention the cameramen were hopping around, asking girls about their first day in the palace, how they liked their maids, and things like that. When they stopped by Ashley and me, I let her do all the talking.

  I kept looking over to the couches as each of the Selected were interviewed. Some were calm and ladylike, others fidgeted in excitement. Marlee blushed wildly as she walked over to Prince Maxon, and beamed when she walked back. Ashley straightened her dress several times, like a nervous little tic of her hands.

  I was near sweating when she came back, meaning it was my turn to go. I took a deep breath and steadied myself. I was about to ask for a monumental favor.

  He stood and went to read my pin as I approached. “America, is it?” he said, a smile playing on his lips.

  “Yes, it is. And I know I’ve heard your name before, but could you remind me?” I wondered if opening with a joke was a bad idea, but Maxon laughed and motioned for me to sit.

  He leaned in and whispered, “Did
you sleep well, my dear?”

  I didn’t know what my face looked like in response to that name, but Maxon’s eyes glittered with amusement.

  “I am still not your dear,” I replied, but with a smile. “But yes. Once I calmed down, I slept very well. My maids had to pull me out of bed, I was so cozy.”

  “I am glad you were comfortable, my. . . America,” he corrected himself.

  “Thank you,” I said. I fidgeted with a piece of my dress for a moment, trying to think of how to say this right. “I’m very sorry I was mean to you. I realized as I was trying to fall asleep that even though this is a strange situation for me, I shouldn’t blame you. You’re not the reason I got swept up in all this, and the whole Selection thing isn’t even your idea. And then, when I was feeling miserable, you were nothing but nice to me, and I was, well, awful. You could have thrown me out last night, and you didn’t. Thank you.”

  Maxon’s eyes were tender. I bet every girl before me had already melted because he’d given them a look like this. I would have been bothered that he looked at me that way, but it was obviously just part of his nature. He ducked his head for a moment. When he looked at me again, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as if he wanted me to understand the importance of what was coming next.

  “America, you have been very up front with me so far. That is a quality that I deeply admire, and I’m going to ask you to be kind enough to answer one question for me.”

  I nodded, a little afraid of what he wanted to know. He leaned in even closer to whisper. “You say you’re here by mistake, so I’m assuming you don’t want to be here. Is there any possibility of you having any sort of . . . of loving feelings toward me?”

  I couldn’t help but fidget a little. I genuinely didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but I couldn’t beat around the bush on this.

  “You are very kind, Your Majesty, and attractive, and thoughtful.” He smiled at that. In a low voice I added, “But for very valid reasons, I don’t think I could.”

  “Would you explain?” His face hid it well, but I could hear the disappointment caused by my immediate rejection. I guessed he wasn’t used to that.

  It wasn’t something I wanted to share, but I didn’t think anything else would make him understand. In an even lower whisper than I’d used before, I told him the truth.

  “I . . . I’m afraid my heart is elsewhere.” I could feel my eyes getting wet.

  “Oh, please don’t cry!” Maxon’s whisper was marked with a genuine worry. “I never know what to do when women cry!”

  That made me laugh, and any threat of tears retreated for the moment. The relief on his face was unmistakable.

  “Would you like me to let you go home to your love today?” he asked. It was obvious that my preference for someone else bothered him, but instead of choosing to be angry, he showed compassion. The gesture made me trust him.

  “That’s the thing.... I don’t want to go home.”

  “Really?” He ran his fingers through his hair, and I had to laugh again at how lost he seemed.

  “Could I be perfectly honest with you?”

  He nodded.

  “I need to be here. My family needs me to be here. Even if you could let me stay for a week, that would be a blessing for them.”

  “You mean you need the money?”

  “Yes.” I felt bad admitting it. It must have seemed like I was using him. In truth, I guess I was. But there was more to it. “And there are . . . certain people”—I looked up at him—“at home who I can’t bear to see right now.”

  Maxon nodded his head in understanding but did not speak.

  I hesitated. I guessed the worst that could happen now was being sent home anyway, so I continued. “If you would be willing to let me stay, even for a little while, I’d be willing to make a trade,” I offered.

  His eyebrows shot up. “A trade?”

  I bit my lip. “If you let me stay. . .” This was going to sound so stupid. “All right, well, look at you. You’re the prince. You’re busy all day, what with helping run a country and all, and you’re supposed to find time to narrow thirty-five, well, thirty-four girls, down to one? That’s a lot to ask, don’t you think?”

  He nodded. I could see his genuine exhaustion at the thought.

  “Wouldn’t it be much better for you if you had someone on the inside? Someone to help? Like, you know, a friend?”

  “A friend?” he asked.

  “Yes. Let me stay, and I’ll help you. I’ll be your friend.” He smiled at the words. “You don’t have to worry about pursuing me. You already know that I don’t have feelings for you. But you can talk to me anytime you like, and I’ll try and help. You said last night that you were looking for a confidante. Well, until you find one for good, I could be that person. If you want.”

  His expression was affectionate but guarded. “I’ve met nearly every woman in this room, and I can’t think of one who would make a better friend. I’d be glad to have you stay.”

  My relief was inexpressible.

  “Do you think,” Maxon asked, “that I could still call you ‘my dear’?”

  “Not a chance,” I whispered.

  “I’ll keep trying. I don’t have it in me to give up.” And I believed him. It was annoying to think he’d press that issue.

  “Did you call all of them that?” I nodded my head toward the rest of the room.

  “Yes, and they all seemed to like it.”

  “That is the exact reason why I don’t.” And I stood.

  Maxon was chuckling as he rose with me. I would have scowled, but it actually was kind of funny. He bowed, I curtsied, and I went back to my seat.

  I was so hungry that it felt like an eternity until he’d gone through the last rows. But finally the last girl was back in her seat, and I was eagerly anticipating my first breakfast at the palace.

  Maxon walked to the center of the room. “If I have asked you to remain behind, please stay in your seats. If not, please proceed with Silvia here into the dining hall. I will join you shortly.”

  Asked to stay? Was that a good thing?

  I stood, as did most of the girls, and started walking. He must just want some special time with those girls. I saw that Ashley was one of them. No doubt she was special, a born princess by the looks of her. The rest were girls I hadn’t managed to meet. Not that they had wanted to meet me. The cameras lingered behind to capture whatever special moment was about to occur, and the rest of us moved on.

  We walked into the banquet room and there, looking more majestic than even I could imagine, were King Clarkson and Queen Amberly. Also in the room, more camera crews swarmed to catch our first meeting. I hesitated, wondering if we should all go back to the door and be invited in. But most everyone else—if somewhat hesitantly—kept walking. I walked quickly to my chair, hoping I hadn’t drawn attention to myself.

  Silvia walked in not two seconds later and took in the scene.

  “Ladies,” she said, “I’m afraid we didn’t get this far. Whenever you enter a room where the king or queen is present, or if they should enter a room you are in, the proper thing to do is curtsy. Then when you are addressed, you may rise and take your seat. All together, shall we?” And we all curtsied in the direction of the head table.

  “Welcome, girls,” the queen said. “Please take your seats, and welcome to the palace. We’re pleased to have you.” There was something pleasant about her voice. It was calm in the same way her expression was, but not lifeless by any means.

  As Silvia had said, the servers came to our right to pour orange juice into our glasses. Our plates came covered on large trays, and the butlers lifted the covers off right in front of us. I was hit in the face with a fragrant blast of steam from my pancakes. Mercifully, the murmurs of awe across the room covered my growling stomach.

  King Clarkson blessed our food, and we all began to eat. A few minutes later, Maxon walked in to take his seat, but before we could move, he called out.

  “Ple
ase don’t rise, ladies. Enjoy your breakfasts.” He walked up to the head table, kissed his mother on the cheek, gave his father a firm pat on the back, and settled into his own chair just to the king’s left. He made a few comments to the closest butler, who laughed quietly, and then dug into his own plate.

  Ashley didn’t come. Or any of the other girls. I looked around, confused, counting to see how many were missing. Eight. Eight girls were not here.

  It was Kriss, sitting across from me, who answered the question in my eyes.

  “They’re gone,” she said.

  Gone? Oh. Gone. . .

  I couldn’t imagine what they had done in less than five minutes to displease Maxon, but I was suddenly grateful I’d chosen to be honest.

  Just like that, we were down to twenty-seven.

  CHAPTER 12

  THE CAMERAS DID A LAP around the room and left to let us enjoy our breakfast in peace, getting one last shot of the prince before they departed.

  I was a little thrown off by the sudden elimination, but Maxon didn’t seem too distressed. He ate his food without a care, and as I watched I realized I should eat my own breakfast before it got cold. Again, it was almost too delicious. The orange juice was so pure that I had to take smaller sips just to absorb it. The eggs and bacon were heaven, and the pancakes were perfectly done, not too thin like the ones I made at home.

  I heard lots of little sighs all around me and knew I wasn’t the only one enjoying the food. Remembering to use the tongs, I picked up a strawberry tart from the basket in the center of the table. As I did so, I looked around the room to see how the other Fives were enjoying their meals. That was when I noticed that I was the only Five left.

  I didn’t know if Maxon was aware of that information—he barely seemed to know our names—but it was strange they were both gone. If I had been another stranger to Maxon when I walked into that room, would I have been kicked out, too? I mulled this over as I bit into the strawberry tart. It was so sweet and the dough was so flaky, every millimeter of my mouth was engaged, taking over the rest of my senses entirely. I didn’t mean to make the little moan, but it was by far the best thing I had ever tasted. I took another bite before I even swallowed the first.