I TOOK ALL MY MEALS in my room for the next two days, managing to avoid Kriss until dinner on Wednesday. I thought I wouldn’t feel so awkward by then. I was sadly mistaken. We gave each other quiet smiles, but I couldn’t bring myself to speak. I almost wished I was across the room sitting between Celeste and Elise. Almost.
Just before dessert was served, Silvia came sprinting in as fast as her heeled shoes could carry her. Her curtsy was particularly brief before she made her way to the queen and whispered something to her.
The queen gasped and ran with Silvia out of the room, leaving us alone.
We’d been taught never to raise our voices, but in the moment we couldn’t help ourselves.
“Does anyone know what’s going on?” Celeste called, abnormally concerned.
“You don’t think they’re hurt, do you?” Elise said.
“Oh, no,” Kriss breathed, and put her head down on the table. “It’s okay, Kriss. Have some pie,” Natalie offered.
I found myself speechless, afraid even to think about what this could mean.
“What if they were captured?” Kriss worried aloud.
“I don’t think the New Asians would do that,” Elise said, though I could see she was worried. I wasn’t sure if her concern was strictly for Maxon’s safety or because any aggression on the part of the people she had a connection with would ruin her chances.
“What if their plane went down?” Celeste said quietly.
She looked up, and I was surprised to see genuine fear on her face. It was enough to silence us all.
What if Maxon was dead?
Queen Amberly returned with Silvia in tow, and we all watched her eagerly. To our intense relief, she was beaming.
“Good news, ladies. The king and prince will be home tonight!” she sang.
Natalie clapped as Kriss and I simultaneously fell back into our chairs. I hadn’t realized how tense my body was for those few minutes.
Silvia chimed in. “Since they’ve had such an intense few days, we’ve decided to forgo any big celebration. Depending on when they leave New Asia, we might not even see them before bedtime.”
“Thank you, Silvia,” the queen said patiently. Really, who cared? “Forgive me, ladies, but I have some work to do. Please enjoy your desserts and have a lovely night,” she said, then turned and flew out the door.
Kriss left seconds later. Maybe she was making a welcome home card.
After that I ate quickly and made my way back upstairs. As I was walking down the hall toward my room, I saw a little flash of blond hair under a white cap and the fluttering black skirt of a maid’s uniform running toward the far-side stairs. It was Lucy, and it sounded like she was crying. She seemed so determined to get away unnoticed that I decided not to call out after her. Rounding the corner to my room, I saw that my door was wide-open. Without it to block their voices, Anne and Mary’s argument spilled into the hallway, where I overheard everything.
“—why you always have to be so hard on her,” Mary complained. “What was I supposed to tell her? That she can have whatever she
wants?” Anne shot back.
“Yes! What would the harm be in simply saying you had faith in her?”
What was going on? Was this why they had all seemed so distant lately?
“She aims too high!” Anne accused. “It would be unkind of me to give her false hope.”
Mary’s voice bled with sarcasm. “Oh, and everything you told her was so kind. You’re just bitter!” she accused.
“What?” Anne lashed back.
“You’re bitter. You can’t stand that she might be closer to something you want than you are,” Mary yelled. “You’ve always looked down on Lucy because she wasn’t raised at the palace as long as you were, and you’ve been jealous of me because I was born here. Why can’t you be happy with who you are instead of stepping on her to make yourself feel better?”
“That’s not what I was trying to do!” Anne said, her voice breaking.
The tight sobs were enough to silence Mary. It would have stopped me, too. Anne crying seemed like an impossibility.
“Is it so bad that I want more than this?” she asked, her voice thick with tears. “I understand that my position is an honor, and I’m glad to do
my job; but I don’t want to do this for the rest of my life. I want more. I want a husband. I want …” She was finally overcome by her sadness.
My heart broke into a thousand pieces. The only way for Anne to get out of this job was to marry her way out. And it wasn’t like a slew of Threes or Fours were going to parade down the palace halls looking for a maid to take as a wife. She really was stuck.
I sighed, steadied myself, and entered the room.
“Lady America,” Mary said with a curtsy, and Anne followed. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her feverishly mopping the tears off her face.
Given her pride, I didn’t think acknowledging them was a good thing, so I strode past the both of them to the mirror.
“How are you?” Mary continued.
“Really tired. I think I’ll be going to bed right away,” I said, focusing on the pins in my hair. “You know what? Why don’t you both go relax? I can take care of myself.”
“Are you sure, miss?” Anne asked, trying so hard to keep her voice composed.
“Very. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”
They didn’t need any more encouragement than that, and thank goodness. I didn’t want them to take care of me right now any more than they probably felt like it. Once I managed to get out of my dress, I lay in bed for a long time thinking of Maxon.
I wasn’t even sure exactly what I was thinking about him. It was all slightly vague and unfixed, but I kept flashing back to my overwhelming happiness when I found out he was safe and on his way back. And there was a corner of my mind that wondered if he’d thought about me at all while he was gone.
I tossed for hours, completely unsettled. At about one in the morning, I figured that if I couldn’t sleep, I might as well read. I turned on the lamp and pulled out Gregory’s diary. I skipped past the fall entries and picked one from February.
SOMETIMES I ALMOST HAVE TO LAUGH AT HOW SIMPLE THIS HAS BEEN. IF THERE WAS EVER A TEXTBOOK WRITTEN ON THE TOPIC OF OVERTHROWING COUNTRIES, I WOULD BE THE STAR OF IT. OR I COULD PROBABLY WRITE IT MYSELF. I’M NOT SURE WHAT I’D SAY STEP ONE WAS, AS YOU CAN’T REALLY FORCE ANOTHER COUNTRY TO TRY AND INVADE OR PUT IDIOTS IN CHARGE OF WHAT ALREADY EXISTS; BUT I CERTAINLY WOULD ENCOURAGE ANY OTHER WOULD- BE LEADERS TO ACQUIRE UNGODLY AMOUNTS OF MONEY BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY.
A FASCINATION WITH MONEY WOULDN’T BE ENOUGH, HOWEVER. YOU MUST POSSESS IT AND BE IN A POSITION TO LORD IT OVER OTHERS. MY LACK OF BACKGROUND IN POLITICS HASN’T BEEN AN ISSUE IN GAINING ALLEGIANCE. IN FACT, I WOULD SAY AVOIDING THAT SECTOR ALTOGETHER MAY BE ONE OF MY GREATEST STRENGTHS. NO ONE TRUSTS POLITICIANS, AND WHY WOULD THEY? WALLIS HAS BEEN MAKING EMPTY PROMISES FOR YEARS IN THE HOPES THAT ONE OF THEM MIGHT COME THROUGH, AND THERE ISN’T A CHANCE IN HELL ANY OF THEM COULD. I, ON THE OTHER HAND, OFFER THE IDEA OF MORE. NO GUARANTEES, MERELY THAT FAINT GLIMMER OF OPTIMISM THAT CHANGE MIGHT COME. IT DOESN’T EVEN MATTER AT THIS POINT WHAT THE CHANGE MIGHT BE. THEY’RE SO DESPERATE, THEY DON’T CARE. THEY DON’T EVEN THINK TO ASK.
PERHAPS THE KEY IS STAYING CALM WHILE OTHERS PANIC. WALLIS IS SO HATED NOW,
HE’S ALL BUT HANDED THE PRESIDENCY OVER TO ME, AND NOT A SOUL IS COMPLAINING. I SAY NOTHING, DO NOTHING, AND WEAR A PLEASANT SMILE AS EVERYONE AROUND ME SINKS INTO HYSTERICS. ONE GLANCE AT THAT COWARD NEXT TO ME, AND THERE’S NO DENYING I LOOK BETTER AT A PODIUM OR SHAKING A PRIME MINISTER’S HAND. AND WALLIS IS SO DESPERATE TO HAVE SOMEONE THE PEOPLE LOVE ON HIS SIDE, I’M PRETTY SURE IT WILL ONLY TAKE TWO OR THREE INCONSPICUOUSLY WORDED DEALS TO HAVE ME RUNNING EVERYTHING.
THIS COUNTRY IS MINE. I FEEL LIKE A BOY WITH A CHESS SET PLAYING A GAME HE KNOWS HE WILL WIN. I’M SMARTER, RICHER, AND FAR MORE QUALIFIED IN THE EYES OF A COUNTRY THAT ADORES ME FOR REASONS NO ONE CAN SEEM TO NAME. BY THE TIME SOMEONE THINKS TO CONSIDER IT, IT WON’T MATTER ANYMORE. I CAN DO WHAT I LIKE, AND THERE’S NO ONE LEFT TO STOP ME. SO WHAT’S NEXT?
I FEEL IT’S TIME TO COLLAPSE THE SYSTEM. THIS PITIFUL REPUBLIC IS ALREADY IN SHAMBLES AND BARELY WORKS. THE REAL QUESTION IS, WHO DO I ALIGN MYSELF WITH? HOW DO I MAKE THIS SOMETHING THE PUBLIC BEGS FOR?
I HAVE ONE IDEA. MY DAUGHTER WON’T LIKE IT, BUT I’M NOT REALLY CONCERNED WITH THAT. IT’S ABOUT TIME SHE MADE HERSELF USEFUL.
I slammed the book shut, confused and frustrated. Was I missing something? Collapsing what system? Lording over people? Was the structure of our country not a necessity but a convenience?
I considered hunting through the book for what happened to his daughter, but I was already so disoriented, I decided against it. Instead I went to the balcony, hoping some fresh air would help me wrap my mind around the words I’d just read.
I looked to the sky, trying to process all this, but I didn’t even know where to start. I sighed, and my eyes wandered the gardens, stopping on a flicker of white. Maxon was walking alone on the grounds. He was finally home. His shirt was untucked, and he wasn’t wearing a coat or
tie. What was he doing out so late? I saw that he was holding one of his cameras. He must have been having a rough night himself.
I hesitated a moment, but who else could I talk to about this? “Pssst!”
He jerked his head around, looking for the source. I did it again, waving my arms until he saw me. A surprised smile flashed across his face as he waved back. Hoping he’d be able to see it, I pulled on my ear. He did the same. I pointed to him, then to my room. He nodded, holding up a finger to tell me it’d be a minute. I nodded back and went inside as he did the same.
I put on my robe and ran my fingers through my hair, wanting to look half as put together as he did. I wasn’t sure exactly how to talk about this, because I was essentially about to ask Maxon if he knew he was sitting on top of something that was much less altruistic than the public had been led to believe. Just as I was starting to wonder what was taking him so long, he knocked on the door.
I rushed over to open it and was greeted by the lens of his camera. It clicked a still of my shocked smile. My expression dissolved into something that expressed how unamused I was by this little stunt, and he captured that, too, laughing.
“You’re ridiculous. Get in here,” I ordered, grabbing him by the arm. He followed. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”
“You took your time,” I accused, settling on the edge of the bed. He came to sit beside me, far enough away that we could face each other.
“I had to stop by my room.” He placed his camera safely on my bedside table, flicking at my jar with the penny in it. He made a sound that was almost a laugh and turned back to me, not explaining his detour.
“Oh. So how was your trip?”
“Odd,” he confessed. “We ended up going to the rural part of New Asia. Father said it was some local dispute; but by the time we got there, everything was fine.” He shook his head. “Honestly, it made no sense. We spent a few days walking through old cities and trying to speak to the natives. Father is quite disappointed with my grasp of the language and is insisting I study more. As if I’m not doing enough these days,” he said with a sigh.
“That is kind of strange.”
“I’m guessing it was some sort of test. He’s been throwing them at me randomly lately, and I don’t always know they’re happening. Maybe this was about decision making or dealing with the unexpected. I’m not sure.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Either way, I’m sure I failed.”
He fidgeted with his hands for a minute. “He also really wanted to talk about the Selection. I think he felt like distance would do me good, give me perspective or something. Honestly, I’m tired of everyone else talking about a decision that I’m supposed to make.”
I was sure the king’s idea of perspective meant getting me out of Maxon’s head. I’d seen the way he smiled at the other girls at meals or nodded to them in the hallways. He never did that to me. I felt instantly uncomfortable and didn’t know what to say.
It appeared Maxon didn’t either.
I decided I couldn’t ask him about the diary yet. He seemed so humble about these things—the way he led, the kind of king he wanted to be—that I couldn’t demand answers from him that I wasn’t anywhere close to sure he had. A tiny corner of my brain couldn’t shake the worry that he knew more than he’d ever shared, but I needed to know more myself before I spoke.
Maxon cleared his throat and pulled a little string of beads out of his pocket.
“As I said, we were walking through a bunch of towns, and I saw this in an old woman’s street shop. It’s blue,” he added, pointing out the obvious. “You seem to like blue.”
“I love blue,” I whispered.
I looked at the little bracelet. A few days ago, Maxon was walking on the other side of the world, and he saw this in a shop … and it made him think of me.
“I didn’t find anything for anyone else, so maybe you could keep this between us?” I nodded my head in agreement. “You never were the type to brag,” he mumbled.
I couldn’t stop staring at the bracelet. It was so understated, with polished stones that weren’t quite gems. I reached out and ran a finger over one of the oval-shaped beads, and Maxon wiggled the bracelet in his hand, which made me laugh.
“Do you want me to put it on?” he offered.
I nodded and stretched out the wrist that didn’t have Aspen’s button on it. Maxon placed the cool stones against my skin and tied the little ribbon that held them together.
“Lovely,” he said.
And there it was, pushing up through all the worries: hope.
It lifted the heavy parts of my heart and made me miss him. I wanted to erase everything since Halloween, go back to that night, and hold on to those two people on the dance floor. And then, at the same time, it
made my heart plummet. If we were back at Halloween, I wouldn’t have a reason to doubt this gift.
Even if I let myself be everything my father said I was, everything Aspen said I wasn’t … I couldn’t be Kriss. Kriss was better.
I was so tired and stressed and confused, I started crying. “America?” he asked hesitantly. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t understand.”
“What don’t you understand?” he asked quietly. I mentally noted that he was doing much better around crying girls these days.
“You,” I admitted. “I’m just really confused about you right now.” I wiped away a tear on one side of my face, and, so gently, Maxon’s hand moved to wipe the tears on the other.
In a way, it was strange to have him touch me like that again. At the same time, it was so familiar that it would have seemed wrong if he hadn’t. Once the tears were gone, he left his hand there, cupping my face.
“America,” he said earnestly, “if you ever want to know anything about me—what matters to me or who I am—all you need to do is ask.”
He looked so sincere that I nearly did ask. I almost begged him to tell me everything: if he’d always considered Kriss, if he knew about the diaries, what it was about this perfect little bracelet that made him think of me.
But how did I know it would be the truth? And—because I was slowly realizing he was the steadier choice—what about Aspen?
“I don’t know if I’m ready to do that yet.”
After a moment of thought, Maxon looked at me. “I understand. I think I do anyway. But we should talk about some serious things very soon. And when you’re ready, I’m here.”
He didn’t press me; instead he stood, giving me a small bow before grabbing his camera and making his way to the door. He looked back at me one last time before disappearing into the hall, and I was surprised by how much I ached to see him go.
