THE REPORT WAS LACKING MATERIAL following what the public would see as a rather uneventful week. After the brief updates from the king on his visit to France, the floor was turned over to Gavril, who was now interviewing the remaining Elite in a casual manner about things that didn’t seem to matter at this point in the competition.
Then again, the last time they’d asked us about something that did matter, I suggested dissolving the castes and nearly got thrown out of the competition.
“Lady Celeste, have you seen the princess’s suite?” Gavril asked jovially.
I grinned to myself, grateful he didn’t ask me the same question. Celeste’s perfect smile managed to widen, and she flipped her hair over her shoulder playfully before answering.
“Well, Gavril, not yet. But I’m certainly hoping to earn the privilege. Of course, King Clarkson has provided us with the most beautiful accommodations, I can’t imagine anything better than what we already have. The, um . . . the beds are so . . .”
Celeste stammered just a bit as her eyes caught two guards rushing into the studio. Our seats were arranged in such a way that I could see them as they ran to the king, but Kriss and Elise had their backs to the action. They both tried to turn their heads discreetly, but it did them no good.
“Luxurious. And it would be more than I could dream of to . . .” Celeste continued, not totally focused on her answer.
But it appeared she didn’t need to be. The king stood and came over, cutting her off.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for the interruption, but this is very urgent.” He clutched a piece of paper in one hand as he smoothed his tie with the other. He was composed as he spoke. “Since our country’s birth, the rebel forces have been the bane of our society. Over the years, their means of attacking the palace, not to mention the common man, have become far more aggressive.
“It appears they have sunk to new lows. As you may well know, the four remaining young ladies of the Selection represent a wide range of castes. We have a Two, a Three, a Four, and a Five. We’re honored to have such a varied group, but this has given a strange incentive to the rebels.”
The king looked over his shoulder at us before continuing. “We are prepared for attacks on the palace, and when the rebels attack the public, we intercede as best we can. And I would not worry you if I thought that I, as your king, could protect you, but . . .
“The rebels are attacking by caste.”
The words hung in the air. In an almost friendly gesture, Celeste and I shared a confused glance.
“They have wanted to end the monarchy for a long time. Recent attacks on the families of these young girls have shown the lengths that they’re prepared to go to, and we’ve sent guards from the palace to protect the Elite’s loved ones. But now that is not enough. If you are a Two, Three, Four, or Five—that is, in the same caste as any of these ladies—you may be subject to an attack from the rebels based on that fact alone.”
I covered my mouth and heard Celeste suck in a breath.
“Beginning today, the rebels intend to attack Twos and work their way down the castes,” the king added solemnly.
It was sinister. If they couldn’t get us to abandon the Selection for our families, they would get a very large portion of the country to want us out. The longer we held on, the more the people would hate us for risking their lives.
“That is sad news, indeed, my king,” Gavril said, breaking the silence.
The king nodded. “We will seek a solution, of course. But we have reports of eight attacks today in five different provinces, all of them against Twos and all of them resulting in at least one death.”
The hand that had been frozen over my mouth dropped to my heart.
People had died today at our expense.
“For now,” King Clarkson continued, “we encourage you to stay close to home and to take any security measures possible.”
“Excellent advice, my king,” Gavril said. He turned to us. “Ladies, anything you’d like to add?”
Elise merely shook her head.
Kriss took a deep breath. “I know that Twos and Threes are being targeted, but your homes are safer than most of the ones for lower castes. If you can take in a family of Fours or Fives that you know well, I think that would be a good idea.”
Celeste nodded. “Stay safe. Do what the king says.”
She turned to me, and I realized I needed to say something. When I was on the Report and feeling a bit lost, I tended to look to Maxon, as if he could silently give me advice. Falling into that habit, I searched for his eyes. But all I saw was his blond hair as he stared into his lap, his dejected frown the only thing visible.
Of course he was worried about his people. But this was about more than protecting his citizens. He knew we might leave.
And shouldn’t we? How many Fives could lose their lives because I sat on my stool in the bright lights of the palace studio?
But how could I—or any of the girls—shoulder that burden? We weren’t the ones taking their lives. I remembered everything August and Georgia said to us, and I knew there was only one thing we could do.
“Fight,” I said to no one in particular. Then remembering where I was, I turned to the camera. “Fight. The rebels are bullies. They’re trying to scare you into doing what they want. And what if you do? What kind of future do you think they’ll offer you? These people, these tyrants, aren’t going to suddenly stop being violent. If you give them power, they’re going to be a thousand times worse. So fight. However you can, fight.”
I felt blood and adrenaline pulsing through me, like I was ready to attack the rebels myself. I’d had enough. They’d kept us all in terror, victimized our families. If one of those Southern rebels was in front of me right now, I wouldn’t run.
Gavril started speaking again, but I was so angry, all I could hear was my heart beating in my ears. Before I knew it, the cameras were off and the lights were powering down.
Maxon went over to his father and whispered something to which the king shook his head.
The girls stood and started to leave.
“Go straight to your rooms,” Maxon said gently. “Dinner will be brought up, and I’ll be visiting you all soon.”
As I walked past them, the king put a single finger on my arm, and in that small gesture, I knew he meant for me to stop.
“That wasn’t very smart,” he said.
I shrugged. “What we’re doing isn’t working. Keep this up and you won’t have anyone left to rule over.”
He flicked his hand, dismissing me, fed up with me again.
Maxon quietly knocked on my door, letting himself in. I was already in my nightgown, reading in my bed. I’d begun to wonder if he was going to come at all.
“It’s so late,” I whispered, though there was no one to disturb.
“I know. I had to speak with all the others, and it’s been extremely taxing. Elise was very shaken. She’s feeling particularly guilty. I wouldn’t be surprised if she left in the next day or two.”
Even though he’d expressed his lackluster feelings for Elise more than once, I could see just how much this hurt him. I curled my legs to my chest so he could sit.
“What about Kriss and Celeste?”
“Kriss is almost too optimistic. She’s sure that people will be careful and protect themselves. I don’t see how that’s possible if there’s no way to tell when or where the rebels will attack next. They’re all over the country. But she’s hopeful. You know how she is.”
“Yeah.”
He sighed. “Celeste is fine. She’s concerned, of course; but as Kriss pointed out, the Twos are most likely to be the safest during all this. And she’s always so determined.” He laughed to himself, staring at the floor. “Mostly she seemed concerned that I would be upset with her if she stayed. As if I could hold it against her for choosing this over going home.”
I sighed. “It’s a good point. Do you want a wife who isn’t worried about her subjects being threatened?”
Maxon looked at me. “You’re worried. You’re just too smart to be worried the way everyone else is.” He shook his head and smiled. “I can’t believe you told them to fight.”
I shrugged. “It seems like we do a whole lot of cowering.”
“You’re absolutely right. And I don’t know if that will scare the rebels off or make them more determined, but there’s no doubt you changed the game.”
I cocked my head. “I don’t think I’d call a group of people trying to kill the population at random a game.”
“No, no!” he said quickly. “I can’t think of a word bad enough to call that. I meant the Selection.” I stared at him. “For better or worse, the public got a real glimpse into your character tonight. They can see the girl who drags her maids to safety, who stands up to kings if she thinks she’s right. I’ll bet everyone will look at you running after Marlee in an entirely different light now. Before this, you were just the girl who yelled at me when we met. Tonight, you became the girl who’s not afraid of the rebels. They’ll think of you differently now.”
I shook my head. “That’s not what I was trying to do.”
“I know. For all the planning I was doing to get you to show the people who you are, it turns out you just do it on an impulse. It’s so you.” There was a look of astonishment in his eyes, as if he should have been expecting this all along. “Anyway, I think it was the right thing to say. It’s about time we did more than hide.”
I looked down at my bedspread, tracing the seams with my finger. I was glad he approved, but the way he spoke—as if it was one more of my little quirks—felt too intimate at the moment.
“I’m tired of fighting with you, America,” he said quietly. I looked up and saw the sincerity in Maxon’s eyes as he continued. “I like that we disagree—it’s one of my favorite things about you, actually—but I don’t want to argue anymore. Sometimes I have a bit of my father’s temper. I fight it, but it’s there. And you!” he said with a laugh. “When you’re upset, you’re a force!”
He shook his head, probably remembering a dozen things at the same time I did. A knee to the groin, the whole thing with the castes, Celeste’s busted lip when she talked about Marlee. I’d never thought of myself as temperamental, but apparently I was. He smiled, and I did, too. It was kind of funny when I thought about all my actions piled up like that.
“I’m looking at the others, and I’m being fair. It makes me nervous to feel some of the things I do. But I want you to know, I’m still looking at you, too. I think you know by now I can’t help it.” He shrugged, seeming so boyish at that moment.
I wanted to say the right thing, to let him know that I still wanted him to look at me. But nothing felt right, so I slid my hand into his. We sat there quietly, looking at our hands. He toyed with my two bracelets, seeming very concerned with them, and spent a little while rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb. It was nice to have a still moment, just the two of us.
“Why don’t we spend the day together tomorrow?” he asked. I smiled. “I’d like that.”
