THE ROYAL FAMILY EXITED OUT the side door, and the other Elite and I left the way we’d come as the cameras and guests filmed and applauded.
Silvia’s eyes when we came out the doorway were positively deadly. It looked like it was taking every last bit of strength she had to keep from throttling me. She led us around the corner to a small parlor.
“In,” she ordered, as if anything more would push her past the brink.
She shut the doors, not bothering to join us.
“Do you always have to be the center of attention?” Elise snapped.
“I didn’t do anything except what I tried to ask you to do. You were the one who didn’t believe me!”
“You act like such a saint. They were criminals. We weren’t doing anything a magistrate wouldn’t do; we just did it in pretty dresses.”
“Elise, did you see those men? Some of them were sick. And the sentences for their crimes were way too long,” I implored.
“She’s right,” Kriss said. “Life for theft? Unless he carted the palace away, what could he have possibly taken to deserve that?”
“Nothing,” I vowed. “He took clothes for his family. Look, you guys are lucky. You were born into better castes. If you’re in the lower ones, and you lose your main provider . . . things don’t go well. I couldn’t send him to jail for life and at the same time sentence his family to becoming Eights. I couldn’t.”
“Where is your pride, America?” Elise begged. “Where is your sense of duty or honor? You’re just a girl; you aren’t even the princess. And if you were, you wouldn’t be allowed to make decisions like that. You are here to follow the king’s rules, and you have never done that! Not even from the first night!”
“Maybe the rules are wrong!” I screamed, at perhaps the worst time possible.
The doors were flung open, and King Clarkson stormed in while Queen Amberly and Maxon stood in the hall. He grabbed my arm, hard
—thankfully not my injured one—and dragged me out of the room.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked, fear making my breath come out in short bursts.
He didn’t answer.
I looked over my shoulder at the girls as the king pulled me down the hall. Celeste wrapped her arms around herself, and Elise reached for Kriss’s hand. For as upset as she was, Elise didn’t seem happy to see me go.
“Clarkson, don’t act in haste,” the queen urged quietly.
We rounded a corner, and I was forced into a room. The queen and Maxon filed in behind us as the king shoved me toward a small couch.
“Sit,” he commanded unnecessarily. He paced the floor, a lion in a cage. When he stopped, he faced Maxon.
“You swore!” he bellowed. “You said she was under control. First the outburst on the Report, then you nearly get yourself killed on the roof, and now this? It ends today, Maxon.”
“Father, did you hear the cheers? People appreciate her sympathy.
She’s your greatest asset right now.”
“I beg your pardon?” His voice was an iceberg, slow and deadly.
Maxon paused a moment at the chill but continued. “When she suggested that people defend themselves, the public responded positively. I daresay the reason more people aren’t dead is because of her. And this? Father, I couldn’t put a man in jail for life over what was supposed to be a petty crime. How can you expect that from someone who’s probably seen more than her fair share of friends beaten for less? She’s refreshing. The majority of the population is in the lower castes, and they relate to her.”
The king shook his head and started walking again. “I let her stay because she kept you alive. You are my most valuable asset, not her. If we lose you, we lose everything. And I don’t just mean through death. If you aren’t committed to this life, if you lose your focus, this will all fall apart.” He waved his arms at the wide room, letting the silence hang.
“You’re being brainwashed,” the king accused. “You change a little every day. These girls, this one more than the others, are all useless.”
“Clarkson, perhaps—” He silenced the queen with a look, and whatever her opinion was fell away.
The king turned back to Maxon. “I have a proposition for you.” “I’m not interested,” he shot back.
King Clarkson raised his arms in front of him, gesturing that he meant no harm. “Hear me out.”
Maxon sighed.
“These girls have been disastrous. Even the Asian’s connections have done nothing for me. The Two is too concerned with fame; and the other, well, she’s not entirely hopeless but not good enough, if you ask me. This one,” he said, pointing at me, “whatever value she’s had has been completely overshadowed by her inability to contain herself.
“This has all gone terribly wrong. And I know you. I know you’re afraid of missing something, so this is my thought.”
I watched the king walk around Maxon. “Let’s call this off. Let’s get rid of all the girls.”
Maxon opened his mouth to protest, but the king held up a hand. “I’m not suggesting you stay single. I’m simply saying that we still have the entries of all the eligible girls in the country sitting around somewhere. Wouldn’t it be nice if you got to handpick a few girls to come to the palace? Maybe find one who looks like the French king’s daughter; remember how fond you were of her?”
I lowered my eyes. Maxon had never mentioned a French girl.
It genuinely felt as if someone took a chisel and chipped a crack in my heart.
“Father, I couldn’t.”
“Oh, but you could. You’re the prince. And I think we’ve had enough outbursts that we could deem this lot unfit. You could have a real choice this time.”
I looked up again. Maxon’s eyes were focused on the floor. I could see he was struggling.
“This might even appease the rebels temporarily. Think of that!” the king added. “If we send these girls home, wait a few months like we’re calling off the Selection, and then bring in a new group of lovely, educated, pleasant women . . . that could change a lot of things.”
Maxon tried to say something but only closed his mouth again. “Either way, you should ask yourself if that,” he said, pointing to me
again, “is someone you could really spend your life with. Dramatic, selfish, money hungry, and, to be quite honest, very plain. Look at her, son.”
Maxon’s eyes darted down to mine, holding them for a second before I had to turn away from humiliation.
“I’ll give you a few days. For now there’s the press to deal with.
Amberly.”
The queen scurried over, placing her arm through the king’s, leaving us alone and speechless.
After a short pause, Maxon came to help me stand up. “Thanks.”
Maxon only nodded. “I should probably go with them. No doubt they’ll have questions for me as well.”
“That’s a pretty nice offer,” I commented. “Maybe the most generous one he’s ever made.”
I didn’t want to know if he was seriously considering this. There was nothing else to say, so I made my way past him, taking the back route to my room, hoping to outrun everything I was feeling.
My maids informed me that dinner would be on our own tonight, and when I couldn’t be bothered to communicate with them, they graciously excused themselves. I lay on my bed, lost in my thoughts.
I’d done the right thing today, hadn’t I? I believed in justice, but the Convicting wasn’t justice. Still, I kept wondering if I’d actually accomplished anything. If that man was an enemy to the king somehow, which I had to believe he was, then surely he would be punished in some other way. Was it all for nothing?
And as frivolous as it was when I considered everything else going on, I couldn’t stop thinking about this French girl. Why hadn’t Maxon mentioned her? Was she here a lot? Why would he keep her a secret?
I heard the knock and assumed it was my food, even though it seemed a little early.
“Come in,” I called, not wanting to get out of bed.
The door opened, and Celeste’s dark hair swished into view.
“In the mood for some company?” she asked. Kriss peeked in behind her, and I saw the edge of Elise’s arm hiding in the back.
I sat up. “Sure.”
They ambled in, leaving the door open. Celeste, still shocking me every time she smiled so genuinely, climbed into my bed without even asking. Not that I minded. Kriss followed, sitting closer to my feet, and Elise balanced on the edge, ever the lady.
Kriss quietly asked what I was sure they were all wondering. “Did he hurt you?”
“No.” Then I realized that wasn’t entirely true. “He didn’t hit me or anything; he just pulled me away a little too roughly.”
“What did he say?” Elise fiddled with a piece of her dress as she spoke.
“He’s not happy with my outburst. If it was the king choosing, I’d be long gone by now.”
Celeste touched my arm. “But he’s not. Maxon’s fond of you, and so are the people.”
“I don’t know if that’s enough.” For any of us, I added in my head. “Sorry I yelled at you,” Elise said quietly. “It’s frustrating. I try so
hard to keep cool and confident, but I feel like nothing I do matters. You all outshine me.”
“That’s not true,” Kriss argued. “At this point, we all mean something to Maxon. We wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
“He’s afraid to get to the final three,” Elise countered. “He’s supposed to choose within, what, four days when it’s down to three? He’s holding on to me to keep from making that decision.”
“Who’s to say he’s not holding on to me?” Celeste suggested. “Listen,” I said, “after today I’ll probably be going home next. It was
bound to happen sooner or later. I’m just not cut out for this.” Kriss giggled. “None of us is an Amberly, are we?”
“I like shocking people too much,” Celeste said with a smile.
“And I’d rather hide than do half the things she has to.” Elise ducked her head.
“I’m too wild.” I shrugged my shoulders, embracing my faults. “I’ll never have her confidence,” Kriss mourned.
“So there. We’re all messed up. But Maxon has to pick one of us, so there’s no point worrying anymore.” Celeste toyed with the blanket. “But I think we can all agree that any of you would be a better choice than me.”
After a heavy silence, Kriss spoke up. “What do you mean?”
Celeste looked across at her. “You know. Everyone does.” She took a deep breath and continued. “I’ve kind of already had this discussion with America, and I broke down to my maids the other day, but I’ve never actually apologized to you two.”
Kriss and Elise looked at each other briefly before focusing again on Celeste.
“Kriss, I ruined your birthday party,” she blurted. “You were the only one who’s been able to celebrate in the palace, and I took that moment from you. I’m so sorry.”
Kriss shrugged. “It turned out okay in the end. Maxon and I had a great talk because of you. I forgave you a long time ago.”
Celeste actually looked like she might cry, but she pushed her lips together into a tight smile. “That’s generous considering I’m having a hard time forgiving myself.” Celeste dabbed at her lashes. “I just didn’t know how to hold his attention, so I stole it from you.”
Kriss took a deep breath. “It felt awful at the time, but it really is all right. I’m fine. At least it wasn’t like with Anna.”
Celeste rolled her eyes shamefully. “Don’t even get me started. Sometimes I wonder how far she would have made it if I hadn’t . . .” She shook her head before moving her gaze to Elise. “I don’t know how you could ever excuse all the things I’ve done to you. Even the ones you don’t know were me.”
Elise, ever poised, didn’t explode like I might have in her place. “You mean the glass in my shoes, the ruined gowns hanging in my closet, the bleach in my shampoo?”
“Bleach!” I gasped, finding confirmation in Celeste’s tired face.
Elise nodded. “I missed a morning in the Women’s Room so my maids could dye it back.” She turned from me to Celeste. “I knew it was you,” she confessed calmly.
Celeste hung her head, absolutely mortified. “You didn’t speak, you barely did anything. In my eyes, you were the easiest target, and I was shocked you never broke.”
“I would never dishonor my family by quitting,” Elise said. I loved her conviction, even if I didn’t completely understand it.
“They should be proud of everything you’ve endured. If my parents had any idea how low I’ve sunk . . . I don’t know what they’d say. If Maxon’s parents knew, I’m sure they’d have kicked me out by now. I’m not fit for this.” She breathed out, struggling to confess.
I leaned forward, putting my hands on hers. “I think this change of heart would prove otherwise, Celeste.”
She tilted her head and gave me a sad smile. “All the same, I don’t think he wants me. Even if he did,” she added, pulling her hands from mine to tidy up her eye makeup, “someone recently reminded me that I don’t need a man to get what I want out of life.”
We shared a grin before she turned back to Elise.
“I can never begin to apologize for everything I’ve done to you, but I need you to know how sincerely I regret it. I’m sorry, Elise.”
Elise didn’t waver, staring Celeste down. I braced myself for her vicious words now that Celeste was finally at her mercy.
“I could tell him. America and Kriss would be my witnesses, and Maxon would have to send you home.”
Celeste swallowed. How humiliating it would be to leave like that!
“I won’t though,” Elise said, finally. “I would never force Maxon’s hand, and win or lose, I want to do it with integrity. So let’s move forward.”
It wasn’t an actual statement of forgiveness, but it was above and beyond what Celeste was expecting. It was all she could do to keep herself together as she nodded and whispered her thanks to Elise.
“Wow,” Kriss said, attempting to change the subject, “I mean, I didn’t want to tell on you either, Celeste, but . . . I didn’t think about honor being behind that choice.” Kriss turned to Elise, thinking over the words.
“It’s always on my mind,” Elise confessed. “I have to hold on to it however I can, especially since I’ll be an embarrassment to my family if I don’t win.”
“How is it your fault if he’s the one doing the choosing?” Kriss asked, shifting her weight and settling back in. “How would that make you an embarrassment?”
Elise turned in more, moving from one worry to another. “Because of the arranged-marriage thing. The best girls get the best men and vice versa. Maxon is the height of perfection. If I lose, it means that I wasn’t good enough. My family won’t think about the feelings behind his choice, which is what I’m sure he’ll judge by. They’ll look at it logically. My breeding, my talents—I was raised to be worthy of the best, so if I’m not, then who will have me when I leave?”
I’d thought about how my life would change if I won or lost a million times, but I’d never considered what it would mean for the others. After everything with Celeste, I really should have.
Kriss put a hand on Elise’s. “Almost all the girls who went home are already engaged to wonderful men. To be a part of the Selection at all makes you a prize. And you made it to the top four of the Elite at the
very least. Trust me, Elise, guys will be lined up around the block for you.”
Elise smiled. “I don’t need a line. I just need one.”
“Well, I need a line,” Celeste said, making us all chuckle, even Elise. “I’d like a handful,” Kriss said. “A line does sound overwhelming.” They looked at me. “One.”
“You’re nuts,” Celeste decided.
We talked for a while about Maxon, about home, about our hopes. We’d never really spoken like this, without any kind of wall between us. Kriss and I had been working on it, trying to be honest and upfront about the competition; but now that we could just talk about life, I could tell that our relationships would survive the palace. Elise was a surprise, but the fact that her perspective came from such a different place than mine made me think on a deeper level, opening me up.
And the bombshell: Celeste. If someone had told me that the brunette in the heels who walked over so menacingly that first day in the airport would be the girl I was happiest to have settled next to me at this very moment, I would have laughed in their face. The thought was almost as unbelievable as the fact that I was still here, one of the last girls and very heartbroken about how close I was to losing Maxon.
As we spoke, I could see her being accepted by the others as fully as she was now by me. She even looked different with the weight of her secrets cast off from her. Celeste had been raised to be a specific kind of pretty. That beauty depended on covering things up, shifting the light, and seeking to be perfect at all times. But there is a different kind of beauty that comes with humility and honesty, and she was glowing with it now.
Maxon must have walked up very quietly, because I had no idea how long he had been standing at the door, watching us. It was Elise who saw his figure on the edge of my room and stiffened first.
“Your Majesty,” she said, bowing her head. We all looked over, sure we’d misheard her.
“Ladies.” He nodded his head back at us. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.
I think I just ruined something here.”
We looked at one another, and I felt sure I wasn’t the only one thinking, No, you made something really amazing.
“Everything’s fine,” I said.
“Again, I’m sorry to intrude, but I need to speak to America. Alone.”
Celeste sighed and started moving, looking back to wink at me before she stood. Elise rose quickly, and Kriss followed, giving my leg a little squeeze as she hopped off the bed. Elise gave Maxon a curtsy as she left, while Kriss paused to straighten his lapel. Celeste walked up, as strong as I’d ever seen her, and whispered something into Maxon’s ear.
When she was done, he smiled. “I don’t think that will be necessary.” “Good.” She left, closing the door behind her, and I stood to take
whatever was coming.
“What was that about?” I asked, nodding toward the door.
“Oh, Celeste was making it clear that if I hurt you, she’d make me cry,” he said with a smile.
I laughed. “I’ve been on the receiving end of those nails, so be careful there.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I took in a breath, letting my smile fade. “So?” “So?”
“Are you going to do it?”
Maxon grinned and shook his head. “No. It was an intriguing thought for a moment, but I don’t want to start over. I like my imperfect girls.” He shrugged, his face content. “Besides, Father doesn’t know about August, or what the Northern rebels’ goals are, or any of that. His solutions are shortsighted. Jumping ship now would be just that.”
I sighed in relief. I’d hoped that Maxon cared about me enough not to let me go, but after sitting with the girls, I didn’t want to see that happen to them either.
“Besides,” he added, seeming pleased, “you should have seen the press.”
“Why? What happened?” I begged, moving closer.
“They were impressed with you once again. I don’t think even I quite understand the mood of the country right now. It’s as if . . . it’s as if they know things could be different. The way he governs the country is the same way he governs me. He feels no one is capable of making the right decisions but him, so he forces his opinions on people. And, after reading Gregory’s diaries, it sounds like it’s been that way for a while.
“But no one wants that anymore. People want a choice.” Maxon shook his head. “You’re terrifying to him, but he can’t expel you. They adore you, America.”
I swallowed. “Adore?”
He nodded. “And . . . I feel similarly. So, no matter what he says or does, don’t lose faith. This isn’t over.”
I placed my fingers on my lips, shocked by the news. The Selection would continue, the girls and I still had our chance, and, based on Maxon’s report, the people were approving of me more and more.
But for all the good news, one thing was still pressing on me.
I looked down at the blanket, almost afraid to ask. “I know this will sound stupid . . . but who’s the French king’s daughter?”
Maxon was silent for a moment before he sat down on the bed. “Her name is Daphne. Before the Selection, she was the only girl I really knew.”
“And?”
He huffed out a soundless laugh. “And a little late in the game I discovered her feelings for me went a little bit deeper than friendship. But I didn’t return those feelings. I couldn’t.”
“Was there something wrong with her or—”
“America, no.” Maxon reached for my hand, forcing me to look at him. “Daphne is my friend. That’s all she ever could be. I spent my life waiting for you, for all of you. This was my chance to find a wife, and I’ve known that for as long as I can remember. Romantically, my interactions with Daphne were nonexistent. I’d never have thought to mention her name to you, and I’m certain the only reason Father did was to give you yet another opportunity to doubt yourself.”
I bit my lip. The king knew my weaknesses too well.
“I watch you do it, America. You compare yourself to my mother, to the other Elite, to a version of yourself you think you ought to be, and now you’re about to do the same thing with a person you didn’t know existed until a few hours ago.”
It was true. I was already wondering if she was prettier than me, smarter than me, and if she said Maxon’s name with a ridiculously flirtatious accent.
“America,” he said, cupping my face in his hand. “If she had mattered, I would have told you. The same way you would with me.”
My stomach turned. I hadn’t been completely honest with Maxon. But with his eyes right there, staring so deeply into mine, it was easy to dismiss all that. I could forget about everything surrounding us when he looked at me like that. And so I did.
I fell into Maxon’s arms, holding him tightly. There was no place in the world I wanted to be more.
