CONTENTS

Chapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6

Excerpt from The EliteChapter 1Chapter 2

About the AuthorOther BooksCopyrightBack AdsAbout the Publisher

CHAPTER 1

I PACED THE FLOOR, TRYINGto walk the anxiety out of my body.When the Selection was somethingin the distance—a possibility for myfuture—it sounded thrilling. Butnow? Well, I wasn’t so sure.

The census had been compiled,the figures checked multiple times.The palace staff was beingreallocated, wardrobe preparations

were being made, and rooms werebeing readied for our new guests.The momentum was building,exciting and terrifying in one fellswoop.

For the girls, the process startedonce they filled out the forms—thousands must have done so bythis point. For me, it started tonight.

I was nineteen. Now, I waseligible.

Stopping in front of my mirror,I checked my tie again. Therewould be more eyes watching thanusual tonight, and I needed to looklike the self-confident prince

everyone was expecting. Finding nofault, I left for my father’s study.

I nodded at advisors andfamiliar guards along the way. Itwas hard to imagine that in lessthan two weeks, these halls wouldbe flooded with girls. My knockwas firm, a request made by Fatherhimself. It seemed there was alwaysa lesson for me to learn.

Knock with authority, Maxon.Stop pacing all the time,

Maxon.Be faster, smarter, better,

Maxon.“Come in.”

I entered the study, and Fatherbriefly moved his eyes from hisreflection to acknowledge me. “Ah,there you are. Your mother will bealong shortly. Are you ready?”

“Of course,” I replied. Therewas no other acceptable answer.

He reached over and grabbed asmall box, placing it in front of meon his desk. “Happy birthday.”

I pulled back the silvery paper,revealing a black box. Inside werenew cuff links. He was probablytoo consumed to remember thathe’d gotten me cuff links forChristmas. Perhaps that was part of

the job. Maybe I’d accidentally getmy son the same gift twice when Iwas king. Of course, to get that farI’d need a wife first.

Wife. I let the word play on mylips without actually saying it aloud.It felt too foreign.

“Thank you, sir. I’ll wear themnow.”

“You’ll want to be at your besttonight,” he said, tearing himselfaway from the mirror. “TheSelection will be on everyone’sthoughts.”

I gave him a tight smile. “Mineincluded.” I debated telling him

how anxious I was. He’d beenthrough this, after all. He must havehad his own doubts once upon atime.

Evidently, my nerves read onmy face.

“Be positive, Maxon. This ismeant to be exciting,” he urged.

“It is. I’m just a bit shocked athow fast it’s all happening.” Ifocused on lacing the metal throughthe holes on my sleeves.

He laughed. “It seems fast toyou, but it’s been years in themaking on my end.”

I narrowed my eyes, looking up

from my task. “What do youmean?”

The door opened then, and mymother walked in. In typicalfashion, Father lit up for her.“Amberly, you look stunning,” hesaid, going to greet her.

She smiled in that way shealways did, as if she couldn’tbelieve anyone would notice her,and embraced my father. “Not toostunning, I hope. I wouldn’t wantto steal attention.” Letting Fathergo, she came and held me tight.“Happy birthday, son.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Your gift is coming,” shewhispered, then turned back toFather. “Are we all ready, then?”

“Indeed we are.” He held out anarm, she took it, and I walked intheir shadows. As always.“About how much longer is it, YourMajesty?” one reporter asked. Thelight of the video cameras was hotin my face.

“The names are drawn thisFriday, and the girls will actuallyarrive the Friday after that,” Ianswered.

“Are you nervous, sir?” a newvoice called.

“About marrying a girl I haven’tmet yet? All in a day’s work.” Iwinked, and the watching crowdchuckled.

“Doesn’t it set you on edge atall, Your Majesty?”

I gave up trying to align thequestion with a face. I justanswered in the general direction itcame from, hoping to get it right.“On the contrary, I’m very excited.”Sort of.

“We know you’ll make anexcellent choice, sir.” A cameraflash blinded me.

“Hear, hear!” others called.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Anygirl who settles for me can’tpossibly be a sane woman.”

They laughed again, and I tookthat as a good stopping point.“Forgive me, I have family visiting,and I don’t wish to be rude.”

Turning my back to thereporters and photographers, I tooka deep breath. Was the wholeevening going to be like this?

I looked around the GreatRoom—the tables covered in darkblue cloths, the lights burningbrightly to show the splendor—andI saw there wasn’t much of an

escape for me. Dignitaries in onecorner, reporters in another—noplace I could just be quiet and still.Considering the fact that I was theperson being celebrated, one wouldthink that I could choose the way inwhich it happened. It never seemedto work out that way.

No sooner had I escaped thecrowd than my father’s arm cameswooping across my back andgripped my shoulder. The pressureand sudden attention made metense.

“Smile,” he ordered beneath hisbreath, and I obeyed as he dipped

his head in the direction of some ofhis special guests.

I caught the eye of Daphne, herefrom France with her father. It waslucky that the timing of the partylined up with our fathers needing todiscuss the ongoing tradeagreement. As the French king’sdaughter, our paths had crossedtime and time again, and she wasperhaps the only person I knewoutside of my family with anydegree of consistency. It was nice tohave one familiar face in the room.

I gave her a nod, and she raisedher glass of champagne.

“You can’t answer everythingso sarcastically. You’re the crownedprince. They need you to lead.” Hishand on my shoulder was tighterthan necessary.

“I’m sorry, sir. It’s a party, Ithought—”

“Well, you thought wrong. Byt h e Report, I expect to see youtaking this seriously.”

He stopped walking and facedme, his eyes gray and steady.

I smiled again, knowing he’dwant that for the sake of the crowd.“Of course, sir. A temporary lapsein judgment.”

He let his arm drop and pulledhis glass of champagne to his lips.“You tend to have a lot of those.”

I risked a peek at Daphne androlled my eyes, at which shelaughed, knowing all too well whatI was feeling. Father’s gazefollowed my eyes across the room.

“Always a pretty one, that girl.Too bad she couldn’t be in thelottery.”

I shrugged. “She’s nice. I neverhad feelings for her, though.”

“Good. That would have beenextraordinarily stupid of you.”

I dodged the slight. “Besides,

I’m looking forward to meeting mytrue options.”

He jumped on the idea, drivingme forward once again. “It’s abouttime you made some real choices inyour life, Maxon. Some good ones.I’m sure you think my methods arefar too harsh, but I need you to seethe significance of your position.”

I held back a sigh. I’ve tried tomake choices. You don’t reallytrust me to.

“Don’t worry, Father. I take thetask of choosing a wife quiteseriously,” I answered, hoping mytone gave him some assurance of

how much I meant that.“It’s a lot more than finding

someone you get along with. Forinstance, you and Daphne. Verychummy, but she’d be a completewaste.” He took another swig,waving at someone behind me.

Again, I controlled my face.Uncomfortable with the direction ofthe conversation, I put my hands inmy pockets and scanned the space.“I should probably make myrounds.”

He waved me away, turning hisattention back to his drink, and Ileft quickly. Try as I might, I wasn’t

sure what that whole interactionmeant. There was no reason forhim to be so rude about Daphnewhen she wasn’t even an option.

The Great Room buzzed withexcitement. People told me that allof Illéa had been waiting for thismoment: the excitement of the newprincess, the thrill of me as a soon-to-be king. For the first time, I feltall of that energy and worried itwould crush me.

I shook hands and graciouslyaccepted gifts that I didn’t need. Iquietly asked one of thephotographers about his lens, and

kissed cheeks of family and friendsand my fair share of completestrangers.

Finally I found myself alone fora moment. I surveyed the crowd,sure there was somewhere I oughtto be. My eyes found Daphne, and Istarted walking toward her. I waslooking forward to just a fewminutes of genuine conversation,but it would have to wait.

“Are you having fun?” Momasked, stepping into my path.

“Does it look like I am?”She ran her hands over my

already-crisp suit. “Yes.”

I smiled. “That’s all that reallymatters.”

She tilted her head, a gentlesmile on her own face. “Come withme for a second.”

I held an arm out for her, whichshe happily took, and we walkedout into the hallway to the sound ofcameras clicking.

“Can we do something a bitsmaller next year?” I asked.

“Not likely. You’ll almostcertainly be married by then. Yourwife might want to have a ratherelaborate celebration your first yeartogether.”

I frowned, something I couldget away with in front of her.“Maybe she’ll like things quiet,too.”

She laughed softly. “Sorry,honey. Any girl who puts her namein for the Selection is looking for away out of quiet.”

“Were you?” I wondered aloud.We never talked about her cominghere. It was a strange dividebetween us, but one that Icherished: I was raised in thepalace, but she chose to come.

She stopped and faced me, herexpression warm. “I was smitten

with the face I saw on TV. Idaydreamed about your father thesame way thousands of girlsdaydream about you.”

I pictured her as a young girl inHonduragua, her hair braided backas she gazed longingly at thetelevision. I could see her sighingevery time he had to speak.

“All girls dream of what itwould be like to be a princess,” sheadded. “To be swept off their feetand wear a crown . . . it’s all I couldthink about the week before thenames were drawn. I didn’t realizethat it was so much more than that.”

Her face grew a little sad. “Icouldn’t guess at the pressure I’d beunder or how little privacy I’dhave. Still, to be married to yourfather, to have had you.” She swepther hand down my cheek. “This isall those dreams made real.”

She held my gaze, smiling, but Icould see tears gathering in thecorners of her eyes. I had to get hertalking again.

“So you have no regrets, then?”She shook her head. “Not a one.

The Selection changed my life, andI mean that in the best waypossible. Which is what I want to

talk to you about.”I squinted. “I’m not sure I

understand.”She sighed. “I was a Four. I

worked in a factory.” She held outher hands. “My fingers were dryand cracked, and dirt was cakedunder my nails. I had no alliances,no status, nothing worthy ofmaking me a princess . . . and yet,here I am.”

I stared, still unsure of herpoint.

“Maxon, this is my gift to you. Ipromise I will make every effort tosee these girls through your eyes.

Not the eyes of a queen, or the eyesof your mother, but yours. Even ifthe girl you choose is of a very lowcaste, even if others think she hasno value, I will always listen toyour reasons for wanting her. And Iwill do my best to support yourchoice.”

After a pause, I understood.“Did Father not have that? Did younot?”

She pulled herself up. “Everygirl will come with pros and cons.Some people will choose to focuson the worst in some of youroptions and the best in others, and

it will make no sense to you whythey seem so narrow minded. ButI’m here for you, whatever yourchoice.”

“You always have been.”“True,” she said, taking my arm.

“And I know I’m about to playsecond fiddle to another woman, asI should. But my love for you willnever change, Maxon.”

“Nor mine for you.” I hopedshe could hear the sincerity in myvoice. I couldn’t imagine acircumstance that would dim myabsolute adoration of her.

“I know.” With a little nudge,

she pushed us back to the party.As we entered the room to

smiles and applause, I consideredmy mother’s words. She was,beyond anyone I knew, incrediblygenerous. It was a trait Iendeavored to adopt myself. So ifthis was her gift, it must be morenecessary than I could understandat the present. My mother nevergave a gift thoughtlessly.

CHAPTER 2

PEOPLE LINGERED MUCHLATER THAN I thought wasappropriate. That was anothersacrifice that came with theprivilege, I guessed: no one wanteda palace party to end. Not evenwhen the palace wanted it to.

I’d placed the very drunkdignitary from the GermanFederation into the care of a guard,

thanked all the royal advisors fortheir gifts, and kissed the hand ofnearly every lady who walkedthrough the palace doors. In myeyes, my duty here was done, and Ijust wanted to spend a few hours inpeace. But as I went to escape thelingering partygoers, I was happilystopped by a pair of dark blue eyes.

“You’ve been avoiding me,”Daphne said, her tone playful andthe lilt of her accent tickling myears. There was always somethingmusical about the way she spoke.

“Not at all. It was bit morecrowded than I thought it would

be.” I looked back at the handful ofpeople still intent on seeing the sunrise through the palace windows.

“Your father, he enjoys makinga spectacle.”

I laughed. Daphne seemed tounderstand so many things that I’dnever said out loud. Sometimes thatmade me nervous. Just how muchabout me could she see without meknowing? “He outdid himself, Ithink.”

She shrugged. “Only until nexttime.”

We stood there in silence,though I sensed she wanted to say

more. Biting her lip, she whisperedto me. “Could I speak to you inprivate?”

I nodded, giving her my armand escorting her to one of theparlors down the hall. She wasquiet, saving her words until I shutthe doors behind us. Though weoften talked in private, the way shewas acting made me uneasy.

“You didn’t dance with me,”she said, sounding hurt.

“I didn’t dance at all.” Fatherinsisted upon classical musiciansthis time. While the Fives were verytalented, the music they played lent

themselves to slower dances.Maybe, if I had wanted to dance, Iwould have chosen to dance withher. It just felt wrong with everyoneasking me questions about myfuture mystery wife.

She let out a breathy sigh andpaced the room. “I’m supposed togo on this date when I get home,”she said. “Frederick—that’s hisname. I’ve seen him before, ofcourse. He’s an excellent rider, andvery handsome, too. He’s fouryears older than me, but I thinkthat’s one of the reasons Papa likeshim.”

She looked over her shoulder atme, a little smile on her face.

I gave her a sarcastic grin inreturn. “And where would we bewithout our fathers’ approval?”

She giggled. “Lost, of course.We’d have no idea how to live.”

I laughed back, grateful forsomeone to joke about it with. Itwas the only way to deal with itsometimes.

“But yes, Papa approves. Still, Iwonder . . .” She dropped her eyesto the floor, suddenly shy.

“You wonder what?”She stood there a moment, her

gaze still focused on the carpet.Finally she focused those deep blueeyes on me. “Do you approve?”

“Of what?”“Frederick.”I laughed. “I can’t really say,

can I? I’ve never met him.”“No,” she said, her voice

dropping. “Not about the person,but the idea. Do you approve of medating this man? Possibly marryinghim?”

Her face was stone, coveringsomething I didn’t understand. Igave a bewildered shrug. “It’s notmy place to approve. It’s hardly

even yours,” I added, feeling a bitsad for the both of us.

Daphne twisted her handstogether, like she was maybenervous or hurting. What washappening here?

“So it doesn’t bother you at all,then? Because if it’s not Frederick,it’ll be Antoine. And if it’s notAntoine, it’ll be Garron. There’s astring of men waiting for me, noneof them half the friend to me thatyou are. But, eventually, I’ll have totake one as a husband, and youdon’t care?”

That was gloomy indeed. We

scarcely saw each other more thanthree times in a year. And I mightsay she was my closest friend, too.How pathetic were we?

I swallowed, searching for theright thing to say. “I’m sure it willall work out.”

With no warning whatsoever,tears began streaming downDaphne’s face. I looked around theroom, trying to find an explanationor solution, feeling more and moreuncomfortable every moment.

“Please tell me you’re not goingto follow through with this, Maxon.You can’t,” she pleaded.

“What are you talking about?” Iasked desperately.

“The Selection! Please, don’tmarry some stranger. Don’t makeme marry some stranger.”

“I have to. That’s how it worksfor princes of Illéa. We marrycommoners.”

Daphne rushed forward,grabbing my hands. “But I loveyou. I always have. Please don’tmarry some other girl without atleast asking your father if I could bea choice.”

Loved me? Always?I choked over words, trying to

find the right place to start.“Daphne, how . . . I don’t knowwhat to say.”

“Say you’ll ask your father,” shepleaded, wiping away her tearshopefully. “Postpone the Selectionlong enough for us to at least see ifit’s worth trying. Or let me enter,too. I’ll give up my crown.”

“Please stop crying,” Iwhispered.

“I can’t! Not when I’m about tolose you forever.” She buried herhead in her hands, sobbing quietly.

I stood there, stone-like,terrified I would make this worse.

After a few tense moments, sheraised her head. She spoke, staringat nothing.

“You’re the only person whoreally knows me. The only person Ifeel I truly know myself.”

“Knowledge isn’t love,” Icontradicted.

“That’s not true, Maxon. Wehave a history together, and it’sabout to be broken. All for the sakeof tradition.” She kept her eyesfocused on some invisible space inthe center of the room, and Icouldn’t guess what she wasthinking now. Clearly, I was

oblivious to her thoughts in general.Finally Daphne turned her face

to me. “Maxon, I beg of you, askyour father. Even if he says no, atleast I’ll have done everything Icould.”

Positive that I already knew thisto be true, I told her what I must.“You already have, Daphne. This isit.” I held out my arms for amoment and let them drop. “This isall it could ever be.”

She held my gaze for a longtime, knowing as I did that askingmy father for such an outrageousrequest was beyond anything I

could truly get away with. I saw hersearch her mind for an alternativepath, but she quickly saw therewasn’t one. She was a servant toher crown, I was a servant to mine,and our masters would never cross.

As she nodded, her facecrumpled into tears again. Shewandered over to a couch and satdown, holding herself. I stayed still,hoping to not cause her any moregrief. I longed to make her laugh,but there wasn’t anything funnyabout this. I hadn’t known I wascapable of breaking a heart.

I certainly didn’t like it.

Just then I realized this wasabout to become common. I woulddismiss thirty-four women over thenext few months. What if they allreacted this way?

I huffed, exhausted at thethought.

At the sound, she looked up.Slowly, the expression on her facechanged.

“Doesn’t this hurt you at all?”she demanded. “You’re not thatgood an actor, Maxon.”

“Of course it bothers me.”She stood, silently assessing me.

“But not for the same reasons it

bothers me,” she whispered. Shewalked across the room, her eyespleading. “Maxon, you love me.”

I stayed still.“Maxon,” she said more

forcefully, “you love me. You do.”I had to look away, the intensity

in her eyes too bright for me. I rana hand through my hair, trying toput whatever it was I did feel intowords.

“I’ve never seen anyone expresstheir feelings the way you just did. Ihave no doubt you mean everyword, but I can’t do that, Daphne.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t

know how to feel it. You just haveno idea how to express it. Yourfather can be as cold as ice, andyour mother hides within herself.You’ve never seen people lovefreely, so you don’t know how toshow it. But you feel it; I know youdo. You love me as I love you.”

Slowly, I shook my head,fearing another syllable out of mymouth would start everything upagain.

“Kiss me,” she demanded.“What?”“Kiss me. If you can kiss me

and still say you don’t love me, I’ll

never mention this again.”I backed away. “No. I’m sorry, I

can’t.”I didn’t want to confess how

literal that was. I wasn’t sure howmany boys Daphne had kissed, butI knew it was more than zero. She’dlet the fact she’d been kissed comeout a few summers ago when I wasin France with her. So there. Shehad me beat, and there was no wayI was going to make an even biggerfool out of myself in this moment.

Her sadness shifted to anger asshe backed away from me. Shelaughed once, no humor in her

eyes.“So this is your answer, then?

You’re saying no? You’re choosingto let me leave?”

I shrugged.“You’re an idiot, Maxon

Schreave. Your parents havecompletely sabotaged you. Youcould have a thousand girls setbefore you, and it wouldn’t matter.You’re too stupid to see love whenit stands right in front of you.”

She wiped her eyes andstraightened her dress. “I hope toGod I never see your face again.”

The fear in my chest changed,

and as she walked away, I grabbedher arm. I didn’t want her to begone forever.

“Daphne, I’m sorry.”“Don’t feel sorry for me,” she

said coldly. “Feel sorry for yourself.You’ll find a wife because you haveto, but you’ve already known loveand let it go.”

She jerked free and left mealone.

Happy birthday to me.

CHAPTER 3

DAPHNE SMELLED LIKECHERRY BARK and almonds.She’d been wearing the same scentsince she turned thirteen. She had iton last night, and I could smell iteven as she was wishing she’dnever see me again.

She had a scar on her wrist, ascrape she got climbing a tree whenshe was eleven. It was my fault.

She was a bit less ladylike at thetime, and I convinced her—well,challenged her—to race me to thetop of one of the trees on the edgeof the garden. I won.

Daphne had a crippling fear ofthe dark, and since I had fears ofmy own, I never teased her for it.And she never teased me. Not onanything that really matteredanyway.

She was allergic to shellfish.Her favorite color was yellow. Tryas she may, she could not sing tosave her life. She could dance,though, so it was probably even

more of a disappointment that Ididn’t ask her to last night.

When I was sixteen she sent mea new camera bag for Christmas.Even though I’d never given anyindication that I wanted to get rid ofthe one I had, it meant so much tome that she was aware of my likes,and I switched it out anyway. I stillused it.

I stretched beneath my sheets,turning my head toward where thebag rested. I wondered how muchtime she’d spent picking out theright one.

Maybe Daphne was right. We

had more history than I’drecognized. We’d lived ourrelationship through scattered visitsand sporadic phone calls, so I neverwould have dreamed it added up toas much as it truly did.

And now she was on a planeback to France, where Frederickwas waiting for her.

I climbed out of bed, shruggedoff my rumpled shirt and suit pants,and made my way to the shower.As the water washed away theremnants of my birthday, I tried todismiss my thoughts.

But I couldn’t shelve her

nagging accusation about the stateof my heart. Did I not know love atall? Had I tasted it and cast it off?And if so, how was I supposed tonavigate the Selection?

Advisors ran around the palacewith stacks of entry forms for theSelection, smiling at me like theyknew something I didn’t. Fromtime to time, one would pat me onthe back or whisper an encouragingremark, as if they sensed that I wassuddenly doubting the one thing inmy life I’d always counted on, theone thing I hoped for.

“Today’s batch is verypromising,” one would say.

“You’re a lucky man,” anothercommented.

But as the entries piled up, all Icould think about was Daphne andher cutting words.

I should have been studying thefigures of the financial reportbefore me, but instead I studied myfather. Had he somehow sabotagedme? Made it so I was missing afundamental understanding of whatit meant to be in a romanticrelationship? I’d seen him interactwith my mother. There was

affection between them, if notpassion. Wasn’t that enough? Wasthat what I was meant to be aimingfor?

I stared into space, debating.Maybe he thought that if I soughtanything more, I’d have a terribletime traversing the Selection. Orperhaps that I’d be disappointed if Ididn’t find something life-changing.It was probably for the best that Inever mentioned I was hoping forjust that.

But maybe he had no suchdesigns. People simply are whothey are. Father was strict, a sword

sharpened under the pressure ofrunning a country that wassurviving constant wars and rebelattacks. Mother was a blanket,softened by growing up withnothing, and ever seeking to protectand comfort.

I knew in my core I was morelike her than him. Not something Iminded, but Father did.

So maybe making me slowabout expressing myself wasintentional, part of the processintended to harden me.

You’re too stupid to see lovewhen it stands right in front of you.

“Snap out of it, Maxon.” Iwhipped my head toward myfather’s voice.

“Sir?”His face was tired. “How many

times do I have to tell you? TheSelection is about making a solid,rational choice, not anotheropportunity for you to daydream.”

An advisor walked into theroom, handing a letter to Father as Istraightened the stack of papers,tapping them against the desk. “Yes,sir.”

He read the paper, and I lookedat him one last time.

Maybe.No.At the end of the day, no. He

wanted to make me a man, not amachine.

With a grunt, he crumpled thepaper and threw it in the trash.“Damn rebels.”

I spent the better part of the nextmorning working in my room,away from prying eyes. I felt muchmore productive when I was alone,and if I wasn’t productive, at least Iwasn’t being chastised. I guessedthat wouldn’t last all day, based on

the invitation I received.“You called for me?” I asked,

stepping into my father’s privateoffice.

“There you are,” Father said, hiseyes wide. He rubbed his handstogether. “Tomorrow’s the day.”

I drew in a breath. “Yes. Do weneed to go over the format for theReport?”

“No, no.” He put a hand on myback to move me forward, and Istraightened instantly, following hislead. “It’ll be simple enough.Introduction, a little chat withGavril, and then we’ll broadcast the

names and faces of the girls.”I nodded. “Sounds . . . easy.”When we reached the edge of

his desk, he placed his hand on athick stack of folders. “These arethem.”

I looked down. Stared.Swallowed.

“Now, about twenty-five or sohave rather obvious qualities thatwould be perfect for a newprincess. Excellent families, ties toother countries that might be veryvaluable. Some of them are justextraordinarily beautiful.”Uncharacteristically, he playfully

elbowed my rib, and I stepped tothe side. None of this was a game.“Sadly, not all of the provincesoffered up anyone worth note. So,to make it all appear a bit morerandom, we used those areas to addin a bit more diversity. You’ll seewe got a few Fives in the mix.Nothing below that, though. Wehave to have some standards.”

I played his words in my headagain. All this time, I thought itwould be fate or destiny . . . but itwas just him.

He ran his thumb down thestack, and the edges of the papers

smacked together.“Do you want a peek?” he

asked.I looked at the pile again.

Names, photos, and lists ofaccomplishments. All the essentialdetails were there. Still, I knew fora fact the form didn’t ask anythingabout what made them laugh orurge them to spill their darkestsecret. Here sat a compilation ofattributes, not people. And based onthose statistics, they were my onlychoices.

“You chose them?” I pulled myeyes from the papers and looked to

him.“Yes.”“All of them?”“Essentially,” he said with a

smile. “Like I said, there are a fewthere for the sake of the show, but Ithink you’ve got a very promisinglot. Far better than mine.”

“Did your father choose foryou?”

“Some. But it was differentthen. Why do you ask?”

I thought back. “This is whatyou meant, wasn’t it? When yousaid it was years of work on yourend?”

“Well, we had to make surecertain girls would be of age, and insome provinces we had severaloptions. But, trust me, you’re goingto love them.”

“Am I?”Love them? As if he cared. As if

this wasn’t just another way to pushthe crown, the palace, and himselfahead.

Suddenly, his offhand commentabout Daphne being a waste madesense. He didn’t care if I was closeto her because she was charming orgood company; he cared that shewas France. Not even a person to

him. And since he basically hadwhat he needed from France, shewas useless in his eyes. Had sheproven valuable, I had no doubtthat he would have been willing tothrow a beloved tradition out thiswindow.

He sighed. “Don’t mope. Ithought you’d be excited. Don’t youeven want to look?”

I straightened my suit coat. “Asyou’ve said, this is nothing todaydream over. I’ll see them wheneveryone else does. If you’ll excuseme, I need to finish reading theamendment you drafted.”

I walked away without waitingfor approval, but I felt certain myanswer would be a sufficientenough excuse to let me leave.

Maybe it wasn’t exactlysabotage, but it certainly felt like atrap. To find one girl I liked out ofdozens he handpicked? How wasthat supposed to happen?

I told myself to calm down. Hepicked Mom, after all, and she wasa wonderful, beautiful, intelligentperson. But that happened withoutthis level of interference, it seemed.And things were different now, orso he claimed.

Between Daphne’s words,Father’s interloping, and my owngrowing fears, I was dreading theSelection like never before.

CHAPTER 4

WITH JUST FIVE MINUTES TOgo before my entire future unfoldedin front of me, I found myselfprepared to vomit at a moment’snotice.

A very kind makeup womanwas dabbing sweat off my brow.

“Are you all right, sir?” sheasked, moving the cloth.

“I was just lamenting that with

all the lipstick you have over there,not a one appears to be my shade.”Mom said that sometimes: not myshade. Not really sure what itmeant.

She giggled, as did Mom andher makeup woman.

“I think I’m good,” I told thegirl, looking in the mirrors set up inthe back of the studio. “Thankyou.”

“Me, too,” Mom said, and thetwo young women walked away.

I toyed with a container, tryingnot to think about the passingseconds.

“Maxon, sweetie, are you reallyokay?” Mom asked, looking not atme but at my reflection. I lookedback at hers.

“It’s just . . . it’s . . .”“I know. It’s nerve-racking for

everyone involved, but at the endof the day, it’s just hearing thenames of a few girls. That’s all.”

I inhaled slowly and nodded.That was one way to look at it.Names. That was all that washappening. Just a list of names andnothing more.

I drew in another breath.It was a good thing I hadn’t

eaten much today.I turned and walked to my seat

on the set, where Father wasalready waiting.

He shook his head. “Get ittogether. You look like hell.”

“How did you do this?” Ibegged.

“I faced it with confidencebecause I was the prince. As willyou. Need I remind you that you’rethe prize?” His face looked tiredagain, like I ought to have alreadygrasped this. “They’re competingfor you, not the other way around.Your life isn’t changing at all,

except you’ll have to deal with acouple of overly excited females fora few weeks.”

“What if I don’t like any ofthem?”

“Then pick the one you hate theleast. Preferably one that’s useful.Don’t worry on that count, though;I’ll help.”

If he intended that to be acalming thought, he failed.

“Ten seconds,” someone called,and my mother came to her seat,giving me a comforting wink.

“Remember to smile,” Fatherprompted, and turned to face the

cameras confidently.Suddenly the anthem was

playing and people were speaking. Irealized I ought to be payingattention, but all of my focus wasdriven toward keeping a calm andhappy expression on my face.

I didn’t register much until Iheard Gavril’s familiar voice.

“Good evening, Your Majesty,”he said, and I swallowed in fearbefore realizing he was addressingmy father.

“Gavril, always good to seeyou.”

“Looking forward to the

announcement?”“Ah, yes. I was in the room

yesterday as a few were drawn; allvery lovely girls.” He was sosmooth, so natural.

“So you know who they arealready?” Gavril asked excitedly.

“Just a few, just a few.” Acomplete fabrication, pulled offwith incredible ease.

“Did he happen to share any ofthis information with you, sir?”Now Gavril was talking to me, theglint from his lapel pin sparkling inthe bright lights as he moved.

Father turned to me, his eyes

reminding me to smile. I did so andanswered.

“Not at all. I’ll see them wheneveryone else does.” Ugh, I shouldhave said the ladies, not them.They were guests, not pets. Idiscreetly wiped the sweat from mypalms on my pants.

“Your Majesty,” Gavril said,moving to my mother. “Any advicefor the Selected?”

I watched her. How long did ittake for her to become so poised,so flawless? Or was she always thatway? A bashful tilt of her head andeven Gavril melted.

“Enjoy your last night as anaverage girl. Tomorrow, no matterwhat, your life will be differentforever.” Yes, ladies, yours andmine both. “And it’s old advice, butit’s good: be yourself.”

“Wise words, my queen, wisewords.” He turned with a widesweep of his arm to the cameras.“And with that, let us reveal thethirty-five young ladies chosen forthe Selection. Ladies andgentlemen, please join me incongratulating the followingDaughters of Illéa.”

I watched the monitors as the

national emblem popped up,leaving a small box in the cornershowing my face. What? They weregoing to watch me the whole time?

Mom put her hand on mine, justout of the sight of the camera. Ibreathed in. Then out. Then inagain.

Just a bunch of names. Not abig deal. Not like they wereannouncing one, and she was it.

“Miss Elayna Stoles ofHansport, Three,” Gavril read off acard. I worked hard to smile a littlebrighter. “Miss Tuesday Keeper ofWaverly, Four,” he continued.

Still looking excited, I benttoward Father. “I feel sick,” Iwhispered.

“Just breathe,” he answeredback through his teeth. “You shouldhave looked yesterday; I knew it.”

“Miss Fiona Castley of Paloma,Three.”

I looked over to Mom. Shesmiled. “Very pretty.”

“Miss America Singer ofCarolina, Five.”

I heard the word Five andrealized that must have been one ofFather’s throwaway picks. I didn’teven catch the picture, as my new

plan was to stare just above themonitors and smile.

“Miss Mia Blue of Ottaro,Three.”

It was too much to absorb. I’dlearn their names and faces later,when the nation wasn’t watching.

“Miss Celeste Newsome ofClermont, Two.” I raised myeyebrows, not that I even saw herface. If she was a Two, she must bean important one, so I’d better lookimpressed.

“Clarissa Kelley of Belcourt,Two.”

As the list rolled on, I smiled to

the point that my cheeks ached. AllI could think of was how much thismeant to me—how a huge part ofmy life was falling into place rightnow—and I couldn’t even rejoicein it. If I’d picked the names myselfout of a bowl in a private room,saw their faces on my own, beforeanyone else, how that would havechanged everything in this moment.

These girls were mine, the onlything in the world that might evertruly feel that way.

And then they weren’t.“And there you have it!” Gavril

announced. “Those are our

beautiful Selection candidates. Overthe next week they will be preparedfor their trip to the palace, and wewill eagerly await their arrival. Tunein next Friday for a special editionof the Report devoted exclusivelyto getting to know these spectacularwomen. Prince Maxon,” he said,turning my way, “I congratulateyou, sir. Such a stunning group ofyoung women.”

“I’m quite speechless,” Ireplied, not lying in the slightest.

“Don’t worry, sir, I’m sure thegirls will do most of the talkingonce they arrive next Friday. And to

you”—he spoke to the camera—“don’t forget to stay tuned for allthe latest Selection updates righthere on the Public Access Channel.Good night, Illéa!”

The anthem played, the lightswent down, and I finally let myposture relax.

Father stood and gave me a firmand startling pat on the back. “Welldone. That was a vast deal betterthan I thought you’d fare.”

“I have no clue what justhappened.”

He laughed along with a handfulof advisors who were lingering on

set. “I told you, son, you’re theprize. There’s no need to bestressed. Don’t you agree,Amberly?”

“I assure you, Maxon, the ladieshave much more to worry aboutthan you do,” she confirmed,rubbing my arm.

“Exactly,” Father said. “Now,I’m starving. Let’s enjoy our lastfew peaceful meals together.”

I stood, walking slowly, andMom kept my pace.

“That was a blur,” I whispered.“We’ll get the photos and

applications to you so you can

study them at your leisure. It’s justlike getting to know anyone. Treat itlike spending time with any of yourother friends.”

“I don’t have very manyfriends, Mom.”

She gave me a knowing smile.“Yes, it’s confining in here,” sheagreed. “Well, think aboutDaphne.”

“What about her?” I asked, a biton edge.

Mom didn’t notice. “She’s agirl, and you two have always beenfriendly. Pretend it’s just like that.”

I faced forward. Without

realizing it, she soothed a huge fearin my heart while stoking another.

Since our fight, whenever Ithought about Daphne, it wasn’tabout how she might be gettingalong with Frederick right now, orhow much I missed her company.All I thought about were heraccusations.

If I was in love with her,certainly it would be all of herattributes that filled my head. Ortonight, as the Selected girls werelisted, I would have wished hername were in there somewhere.

Maybe Daphne was right, and I

didn’t know how to properly showlove. But even if that were the case,I knew with a growing certainty thatI didn’t love her.

A corner of my soul rejoiced inknowing that I wasn’t missing outon something. I could enter theSelection with no restraints on myaffection. But in another space, Imourned. At least if I hadmisunderstood my emotions, Icould boast at the fact that onceupon a time, I’d been in love, that Iknew what it felt like. But I still hadno clue. I supposed it was alwaysmeant to be that way.

CHAPTER 5

IN THE END, I DIDN’T look at theapplications. I had a lot of reasonsto not bother, but ultimately, Iconvinced myself it was best if itwas a clean slate for all of us oncewe were introduced. Besides, ifFather had pored over all thecandidates in detail, maybe I didn’twant to.

I held a comfortable distance

between the Selection and myself. . . until the event crossed mythreshold.

Friday morning, I was walkingalong the third floor, and I heardthe musical laugh of two girls onthe open stairwell of the secondfloor. A perky voice gushed, “Canyou believe we’re here?” and theyburst into giggles again.

I cursed aloud and ran into theclosest room, because it had beenstressed to me over and over againthat I was to meet the girls all atonce on Saturday. No one told mewhy it was so important, but I

believed it had something to dowith their makeovers. If a Fivestepped into the palace without anysort of help, well, I couldn’t sayshe’d have much of a chance.Maybe it was to make everythingfair. I discreetly left the room I’dducked into and went back to myown, trying to forget the incidentaltogether.

But then a second time as I waswalking to drop something off inFather’s office, I heard the floatingvoice of a girl I did not know, andit sent a jolt of anxiety through myentire being. I went back to my

room and cleaned all of my cameralenses meticulously and reorganizedall my equipment. I busied myselfuntil nightfall, when I knew thegirls would be in their rooms, and Icould walk.

It was one of those traits thattended to get on Father’s nerves. Hesaid it made him nervous that Imoved around so much. Whatcould I say? I thought better on myfeet.

The palace was quiet. If I didn’tknow better, I wouldn’t haveguessed that we had so muchcompany. Maybe things wouldn’t

be so different if I didn’t focus onthe change.

As I made my way to the end ofthe hall, I was faced with all thewhat ifs that were plaguing me.What if none of the girls wassomeone I could love? What ifnone of them loved me? What if mysoul mate was bypassed becausesomeone more valuable was chosenfrom her province?

I sat down at the top of thestairs and put my head in my hands.How was I supposed to do this?How was I meant to find someonewho I loved, who loved me, who

my parents approved of, and thepeople adored? Not to mentionsomeone who was smart, attractive,and accomplished, someone I couldpresent to all the presidents andambassadors who came our way.

I told myself to pull it together,to think about the positive what ifs.What if I had a spectacular timegetting to know these ladies? Whatif they were all charming and funnyand beautiful? What if the very girlI cared for the most would appeasemy father beyond any expectationseither of us had? What if my perfectmatch was lying in her bed right

now, hoping the best for me?Maybe . . . maybe this could be

everything I’d dreamed it would be,back before it became all too real.This was my chance to find apartner. For so long, Daphne wasthe only person I could confide in;no one else quite understood ourlives. But now, I could welcomesomeone else into my world, and itwould be better than anything I’dever had before because . . .because she would be mine.

And I would be hers. We wouldbe there for each other. She wouldbe what my mother was to my

father: a source of comfort, thecalm that grounded him. And Icould be her guide, her protector.

I stood and moved downstairs,feeling confident. I just had to holdon to this feeling. I told myself thatthis was what the Selection wouldreally be for me. It was hope.

By the time I hit the first floor, Iwas actually smiling. I wasn’trelaxed, exactly, but I wasdetermined.

“ . . . outside,” someone gasped,the fragile voice echoing down thehallway. What was happening?

“Miss, you need to get back to

your room now.” I squinted downthe hall and saw in a patch ofmoonlight that a guard wasblocking a girl—a girl!—from thedoorway. It was dark, so I couldn’tmake out much of her face, but shehad brilliant red hair, like honeyand roses and the sun all together.

“Please.” She was looking moreand more distressed as she stoodthere shaking. I walked closer,trying to decide what to do.

The guard said something Icouldn’t make out. I kept walking,trying to make sense of the scene.

“I . . . I can’t breathe,” she said,

falling into the guard’s arms as hedropped his staff to catch her. Heseemed kind of irritated about it.

“Let her go!” I ordered, finallygetting to them. Rules be damned, Icouldn’t let this girl be hurt.

“She collapsed, Your Majesty,”the guard explained. “She wanted togo outside.”

I knew the guards were justtrying to keep us all safe, but whatcould I do? “Open the doors,” Icommanded.

“But . . . Your Majesty . . .”I fixed him with a serious gaze.

“Open the doors and let her go.

Now!”“Right away, Your Highness.”The guard by the door went to

work opening the lock, and Iwatched the girl sway slightly in theother’s arms as she tried to stand.The moment the double doorsopened, a rush of warm, sweetAngeles wind enveloped us. Assoon as she felt it on her bare arms,she was moving.

I went to the door and watchedas she staggered through thegarden, her bare feet making dullsounds on the smoothed gravel. I’dnever seen a girl in a nightgown

before, and while this particularyoung lady wasn’t exactly gracefulat the moment, it was still strangelyinviting.

I realized the guards werewatching her, too, and that botheredme.

“As you were,” I said in a lowvoice. They cleared their throatsand turned back to face the hallway.“Stay here unless I call for you,” Iinstructed, and walked into thegarden.

I had a hard time seeing her, butI could hear her. She was breathingheavily, and sounded almost like

she was weeping. I hoped thatwasn’t the case. Finally I saw hercollapse in the grass with her armsand head resting on a stone bench.

She didn’t seem to notice thatI’d approached, so I stood there amoment, waiting for her to look up.After a while I was starting to feel alittle awkward. I figured she’d atleast want to thank me, so I spoke.

“Are you all right, my dear?”“I am not your dear,” she said

angrily as she whipped her head tolook at me. She was still hidden byshadows, but her hair flashed in thesliver of moonlight that made its

way through the clouds.Still, face lit or hidden, I got the

full intention of her words. Wherewas the gratitude? “What have Idone to offend you? Did I not justgive you the very thing you askedfor?”

She didn’t answer me, butturned away, back to her crying.Why did women have such a highinclination to tears? I didn’t want tobe rude, but I had to ask.

“Excuse me, dear, are you goingto keep crying?”

“Don’t call me that! I am nomore dear to you than the thirty-

four other strangers you have herein your cage.”

I smiled to myself. One of mymany worries was that these girlswould be in a constant state ofpresenting the best sides ofthemselves, trying to impress me. Ikept dreading that I’d spend weeksgetting to know someone, think shewas the one, and then after thewedding, some new person wouldcome to the surface who I couldn’tstand.

And here was one who didn’tcare who I was. She was scoldingme!

I circled her as I thought aboutwhat she said. I wondered if myhabit of walking would bother her.If it did, would she say so?

“That is an unfair statement.You are all dear to me,” I said. Yes,I’d been avoiding anything havingto do with the Selection, but thatdidn’t mean the girls weren’tprecious in my eyes. “It is simply amatter of discovering who shall bethe dearest.”

“Did you really just use thew o r d shall?” she askedincredulously.

“I’m afraid I did,” I answered

with a chuckle. “Forgive me, it’s aproduct of my education.” Shemuttered something unintelligible.“I’m sorry?”

“It’s ridiculous!” she yelled. My,she had a temper. Father must notknow much about this one.Certainly, no girl with thisdisposition would have made it intothe pool if he had. It was lucky forher that I was the one who cameupon her in her distress, and nothim. She would have been senthome about five minutes ago.

“What is?” I inquired, though Iwas sure she was referencing this

very moment. I’d neverexperienced anything quite like this.

“This contest! The whole thing!Haven’t you ever loved anyone atall? Is this really how you want topick a wife? Are you really soshallow?”

That stung. Shallow? I went tosit on the bench, so it would beeasier to talk. I wanted this girl,whoever she was, to understandwhere I was coming from, whatthings looked like from my end. Itried not to get distracted by thecurve of her waist and hip and leg,even the look of her bare foot.

“I can see how I would seemthat way, how this whole thingcould seem like it’s nothing morethan cheap entertainment,” I said,nodding. “But in my world, I amvery guarded. I don’t meet verymany women. The ones I do aredaughters of diplomats, and weusually have very little to discuss.And that’s when we manage tospeak the same language.”

I smiled, thinking of theawkward moments when I had tosit through long dinners in silencenext to young women who I wasmeant to entertain, and failing

dismally because the translatorswere busy talking politics. I lookedto the girl, expecting her to laughalong with me for my trouble.When her tight lips refused tosmile, I cleared my throat andmoved on.

“Circumstances being what theyare,” I said, fidgeting with myhands, “I haven’t had theopportunity to fall in love.” Sheseemed to forget I wasn’t reallyallowed to until now. Then I wascurious. Hoping I wasn’t alone, Ivoiced my most intimate question.“Have you?”

“Yes,” she said. She soundedboth proud and sad in a singleword.

“Then you have been quitelucky.”

I looked at the grass for amoment. I continued on, notwanting to linger on my ratherembarrassing lack of experience.

“My mother and father weremarried this way and are quitehappy. I hope to find happiness,too. To find a woman who all ofIlléa can love, someone to be mycompanion and to help entertain theleaders of other nations. Someone

who will befriend my friends andbe my confidante. I’m ready to findmy wife.”

Even I could hear thedesperation, the hope, the longing.The doubt crept back in. What if noone here could love me?

No, I told myself, this will be agood thing.

I looked down at this girl, whoseemed desperate in her own way.“Do you really feel like this is acage?”

“Yes, I do,” she breathed. Then,a second later, “Your Majesty.”

I laughed. “I’ve felt that way

more than once myself. But, youmust admit, it is a very beautifulcage.”

“For you,” she shot backskeptically. “Fill your beautiful cagewith thirty-four other men allfighting over the same thing. Seehow nice it is then.”

“Have there really beenarguments over me? Don’t you allrealize I’m the one doing thechoosing?” I didn’t know whetherto feel excited or worried, but it wasinteresting to think about. Maybe ifsomeone really wanted me thatmuch, I’d want them, too.

“Actually, that was unfair,” sheadded. “They’re fighting over twothings. Some fight for you; othersfight for the crown. And they allthink they’ve already figured outwhat to say and do so your choicewill be obvious.”

“Ah, yes. The man or thecrown. I’m afraid some cannot tellthe difference.” I shook my headand stared into the grass.

“Good luck there,” she saidcomically.

But there was nothing comicalabout it. Here was another one ofmy biggest fears being confirmed.

Again my curiosity overwhelmedme, though I was sure she wouldlie.

“Which do you fight for?”“Actually, I’m here by mistake.”“Mistake?” How was that

possible? If she put her name in,and it was drawn, and she willinglycame here . . .

“Yes. I sort of—well, it’s a longstory,” she said. I would have tolearn what that was all abouteventually. “And now . . . I’m here.And I’m not fighting. My plan is toenjoy the food until you kick meout.”

I couldn’t help myself. I burstout laughing. This girl was theantithesis of everything I’d beenexpecting. Waiting to be kickedout? Here for the food? I was,surprisingly, enjoying this. Maybe itwould all be as simple as Mom saidit would be, and I could get toknow the candidates over time, likeI did with Daphne.

“What are you?” I asked. Shecouldn’t be more than a Four if shewas so excited about the food.

“I’m sorry?” she asked, notcatching my meaning.

I didn’t want to be insulting, so

I started high. “A Two? Three?”“Five.”So this was one of the Fives. I

knew Father wouldn’t be thrilledabout me being friendly with her,but after all, he was the one who lether in. “Ah, yes, then food wouldprobably be good motivation tostay.” I chuckled again, and tried tofind out the name of thisentertaining young woman. “I’msorry, I can’t read your pin in thedark.”

She gave a slight shake of herhead. If she asked why I didn’tknow her name yet I wondered

which would sound better: a lie—that I had far too much work to doto put them to memory at themoment—or the truth—that I wasso nervous about all this, I’d beenputting it off until the last second.

Which I suddenly realized I’djust passed.

“I’m America.”“Well, that’s perfect,” I said

with a laugh. Based on her namealone, I couldn’t believe she’dmade the cut. That was the name ofthe old country, a stubborn andflawed land we rebuilt intosomething strong. Then again,

maybe that was why Father let herin: to show he had no fear orworries about our past, even if therebels clung to it foolishly.

For me, there was somethingmusical about the word. “America,my dear, I do hope you findsomething in this cage worthfighting for. After all this, I canonly imagine what it would be liketo see you actually try.”

I left the bench and knelt besideher, taking her hand. She waslooking at our fingers and not intomy eyes, and thank goodness forthat. If she were, she’d have seen

how absolutely floored I was thefirst time I finally, truly saw her.The clouds moved at just the rightmoment, fully lighting her face bythe moon. As if it weren’t enoughthat she was willing to stand up tome and clearly unafraid to beherself, she was dazzlinglybeautiful.

Underneath thick lashes wereeyes blue as ice, something cool tobalance out the flames in her hair.Her cheeks were smooth andslightly blushed from crying. Andher lips, soft and pink, slightlyparted as she studied our hands.

I felt a strange flutter in mychest, like the glow of a fireplace orthe warmth of the afternoon. Itstayed there for a moment, playingwith my pulse.

I mentally chastised myself.How typical to become soinfatuated with the first girl I wasever allowed to actually have anysort of feelings for. It was foolish,too quick to be real, and I pushedthe warmth away. All the same, Ididn’t want to dismiss her. Timemight prove that she was someoneworth having in the running.America was clearly someone I’d

need to win over, and that mighttake time. But I would start rightnow.

“If it would make you happy, Icould let the staff know you preferthe garden. Then you can come outhere at night without beingmanhandled by the guard. I wouldprefer if you had one nearby,though.” No need to worry her withjust how often we were attacked.So long as a guard was close, sheshould be fine.

“I don’t . . . I don’t think I wantanything from you.” She gentlypulled her hand away and looked at

the grass.“As you wish.” I was a little

disappointed. What horrible thinghad I done to make her push meaway? Maybe this girl wasunwinnable. “Will you be headinginside soon?”

“Yes,” she whispered.“Then I’ll leave you with your

thoughts. There will be a guard nearthe door waiting for you.” I wantedher to take her time, but I dreadedsome unexpected assault hurtingany of the girls, even this girl whoseemed to have developed a seriousdistaste for me.

“Thank you, um, YourMajesty.” I heard a sort ofvulnerability in her voice, andrealized that maybe it wasn’t me.Maybe she was just overwhelmedby everything that was happening toher. How could I blame her forthat? I decided to risk rejectionagain.

“Dear America, will you do mea favor?” I took her hand oncemore, and she looked up to me witha skeptical face. There wassomething about those eyes on me,like she was searching for truth inmine and would have it at all costs.

“Maybe.”Her tone gave me hope, and I

grinned. “Don’t mention this to theothers. Technically, I’m notsupposed to meet you untiltomorrow, and I don’t want anyonegetting upset.” I gave a light snort,and I immediately wished I couldtake it back. Sometimes I had theworst laugh. “Though I wouldn’tcall you yelling at me anything closeto a romantic tryst, would you?”

Finally America gave me aplayful smirk. “Not at all!” Shepaused and let out a breath. “Iwon’t tell.”

“Thank you.” I should havebeen happy enough with her smile,should have walked away at that.But something in me—perhapsbeing raised to always pushforward, to succeed—urged me totake one step more. I pulled herhand to my lips and kissed it.“Good night.” I left before she hada chance to chastise me or I had anopportunity to do anything elsestupid.

I wanted to look back and seeher expression, but if it wassomething in the area of disgust, Ididn’t think I could bear it. If

Father could read my thoughts rightnow, he’d be less than pleased. Bynow, after everything, I ought to betougher than this.

When I got to the doors, Iturned to the guards. “She needs amoment. If she’s not in within halfan hour, kindly urge her to comeinside.” I met both of their eyes,making sure they grasped theconcept. “It would also behooveyou to refrain from mentioning thisto anyone. Understood?”

They nodded, and I made myway to the main stairwell. As Iwalked I heard one guard whisper,

“What’s behoove?”I rolled my eyes and continued

up the stairs. Once I made it to thethird floor, I practically ran to myroom. I had a huge balcony thatoverlooked the gardens. I wasn’tgoing to step outside and let herknow I was watching, but I did goto the window and pull back thecurtain.

She stayed maybe ten minutesor so, seeming calmer by theminute. I watched as she wiped herface, brushed off her nightgown,and headed inside. I debatedhopping into the hallway on the

second floor so we couldaccidentally-on-purpose meet again.But I thought better of it. She wasupset tonight, probably not herself.If I was going to have a chance atall, I’d have to wait until tomorrow.

Tomorrow . . . when thirty-fourother girls would be placed beforeme. Oh, I was an idiot to wait solong. I went to my desk and dugout the stack of files about the girls,studying their pictures. I didn’tknow whose idea it was to put thenames on the back, but that was farless than helpful. I grabbed a penand transcribed the names to the

front. Hannah, Anna . . . how was Isupposed to keep that straight?Jenna, Janelle, and Camille . . .seriously? That was going to be adisaster. I had to learn at least afew. Then I’d just rely on the pinsuntil I got the names straight.

Because I could do this. I coulddo it well. I had to. I had to prove,finally, that I could lead, makedecisions. How else would anyonetrust me as their king? How wouldthe king himself trust me at all?

I focused on standouts. Celeste. . . I remembered the name. One ofmy advisors had mentioned she was

a model and showed me a pictureof her in a bathing suit on theglossy pages of a magazine. Shewas probably the sexiest candidate,and I certainly wouldn’t hold thatagainst her. Lyssa jumped out atme, but not in a good way. Unlessshe had a winning personality, shewasn’t even in the running. Maybethat was a bit shallow, but was it sobad that I wanted someoneattractive? Ah, Elise. Based on theexotic slant of her eyes, she was thegirl Father had mentioned who hadfamily in New Asia. She’d be in therunning on that alone.

America.I studied her picture. Her smile

was absolutely radiant.What made her smile so

brightly, then? Was it me? Hadwhatever she felt for me that daypassed? She didn’t seem veryhappy to meet me. But . . . she didsmile in the end.

Tomorrow I would have to startfresh with her. I wasn’t sure ofwhat I was looking for, but somuch of what seemed right wasstaring back at me in thatphotograph. Maybe it was her willor her honesty, maybe it was the

soft skin on the back of her hand orher perfume . . . but I knew, with asingular clarity, that I wanted her tolike me.

How exactly was I supposed todo that?

CHAPTER 6

I HELD THE BLUE TIE up. No.The tan? No. Was I going to havethis much trouble getting dressedevery day?

I wanted to make a good firstimpression with these girls—and agood second impression with one—and apparently I was convinced thisall hung on picking out the right tie.I sighed. These girls were already

turning me into a puddle of stupid.I tried to follow my mother’s

advice and be myself, flaws and all.Going with the first tie I’d pickedup, I finished getting dressed andsmoothed my hair back.

I walked out the door andfound my parents by the stairwellhaving a hushed conversation. Idebated taking a back route, notwanting to interrupt them, but mymother waved me over.

Once I reached them, shestarted tugging on my sleeves, thenmoved to my back to smooth mycoat. “Remember,” she said,

“they’re swarming with nerves, andthe thing to do right now is makethem feel at home.”

“Act like a prince,” Fatherurged. “Remember who you are.”

“There’s no rush to make adecision.” Mom touched my tie.“That’s a nice one.”

“But don’t keep anyone aroundif you know you don’t want them.The sooner we get to the truecandidates, the better.”

“Be polite.”“Be confident.”“Just talk.”Father sighed. “This isn’t a joke.

Remember that.”Mom held me at arm’s length.

“You’re going to be fantastic.” Shepulled me in for a big hug, andbacked away to restraighteneverything.

“All right, son. Go on,” Fathersaid, gesturing to the stairs.

“We’ll be waiting in the dininghall.”

I felt dizzy. “Um, yes. Thankyou.”

I paused for a minute to catchmy breath. I knew they were tryingto help, but they’d managed tothrow off any sense of calm I’d

built. I reminded myself that thiswas just me saying hello, that thegirls were hoping this would workout as much as I was.

And then I remembered that Iwas going to get to speak toAmerica again. At the very least,that should be entertaining. Withthat in mind I breezed down thestairs to the first floor and made myway to the Great Room. I took onedeep breath and gave a knock onthe door before pulling it open.

There, past the guards, waitedthe collection of girls. Camerasflashed, capturing both their

reaction and mine. I smiled at theirhopeful faces, feeling calmer justbecause they all looked so pleasedto be here.

“Your Majesty.” I turned andcaught Silvia coming up from hercurtsy. I nearly forgot that shewould be there, instructing them inprotocol the way she instructed mewhen I was younger.

“Hello, Silvia. If you don’tmind, I would like to introducemyself to these young women.”

“Of course,” she saidbreathlessly, bending again. Shecould be so dramatic sometimes.

I surveyed the faces, looking forthe flame of her hair. It took amoment, as I was a bit distracted bythe light glinting off nearly everywrist, ear, and neck in the room. Ifinally found her, a few rows in onthe end, looking at me with adifferent expression than the others.I smiled, but instead of smilingback, she looked confused.

“Ladies, if you don’t mind,” Istarted, “one at a time, I’ll be callingyou over to meet with me. I’m sureyou’re all eager to eat, as am I. So Iwon’t take up too much of yourtime. Do forgive me if I’m slow

with names; there are quite a few ofyou.”

Some of the girls giggled, and Iwas happy to realize I couldidentify more of them than Ithought I would. I went to theyoung lady in the front corner, andextended my hand. She took itenthusiastically, and we walkedover to the couches that I knewwould be set up specifically for thispurpose.

Sadly, Lyssa was no moreattractive in person than she was inher picture. Still, she deserved thebenefit of the doubt, so we spoke

all the same.“Good morning, Lyssa.”“Good morning, Your Majesty.”

She smiled so widely, it looked likeit must hurt her to do so.

“How are you finding thepalace?”

“It’s beautiful. I’ve never seenanything so beautiful. It’s reallybeautiful here. Gosh, I already saidthat, didn’t I?”

I answered with a smile. “It’squite all right. I’m glad you’re sopleased. What do you do at home?”

“I’m a Five. My whole familyworks exclusively in sculpting. You

have some incredible pieces here.Really beautiful.”

I tried to seem interested, butshe didn’t engage me at all. Still,what if I passed on someone for nogood reason?

“Thank you. Um, how manysiblings do you have?”

After a few minutes ofconversation in which she used theword beautiful no less than twelvetimes, I knew that there wasnothing else I wanted to knowabout this girl.

It was time for me to move on,but it seemed so cruel to keep her

here knowing there was no chancefor us. I decided that I was going tostart making cuts here and now. Itwould be kinder to the girls, andmaybe also impress Father. Afterall, he did say he wanted me tomake some real choices in my life.

“Lyssa, thank you so much foryour time. Once I’m done witheveryone, would you mind stayinga little longer so I could speak withyou?”

She blushed. “Absolutely.”We rose, and I felt awful

knowing that she assumed thatrequest meant something it didn’t.

“Would you please send the nextyoung lady over?”

She nodded and curtsied beforeshe went to get the girl beside her,who I recognized immediately asCeleste Newsome. It would take adim man indeed to forget that face.

“Good morning, Lady Celeste.”“Good morning, Your Majesty,”

she said as she curtsied. Her voicewas sugary, and I realized rightaway that many of these girls mighthave a hold on me. Maybe all thisworry about not being able to loveany of them wasn’t the trueproblem. Maybe I’d fall for all of

them and never be able to choose.I motioned for her to sit across

from me. “I understand youmodel.”

“I do,” she answered brightly,thrilled to see I already knew thisabout her. “Primarily clothing. I’vebeen told I have a good shape forit.”

Of course, at those words, I wasforced to look at said shape, andthere was no denying just howstriking she was.

“Do you enjoy your work?”“Oh, yes. It’s amazing how

photography can capture just a split

second of something exquisite.”I lit up. “Absolutely. I don’t

know if you’re aware, but I’m veryinto photography myself.”

“Really? We should do a shootsometime.”

“That would be wonderful.”Ah! This was going better than Ithought. Within ten minutes I’dalready weeded out a definite noand found someone with a commoninterest.

I could have probably gone onfor another hour with Celeste, but ifwe were ever going to eat, I reallyneeded to hurry.

“My dear, I’m so sorry to cutthis short, but I have to meeteveryone this morning,” Iapologized.

“Of course.” She stood. “I’mlooking forward to finishing ourconversation. Hopefully soon.”

The way she looked at me . . . Ididn’t know the proper words forit. It sent a blush to my face, and Inodded my head in a tiny bow tocover it. I took some deep breaths,focusing myself on the next girl.

Bariel, Emmica, Tiny, andseveral others passed through. Sofar, most of them were pleasant and

composed. But I was hoping for somuch more than that.

It took five more girls untilanything really interestinghappened. As I stepped forward togreet the slim brunette coming myway, she extended her hand. “Hi,I’m Kriss.”

I stared at her open palm andwas prepared to shake it before shepulled it back.

“Oh, darn! I meant to curtsy!”She did, shaking her head as sherose.

I laughed.“I feel so silly. The very first

thing, and I got it wrong.” But shesmiled it off, and it was actuallykind of charming.

“Don’t worry, my dear,” I said,gesturing for her to sit. “There’sbeen much worse.”

“Really?” she whispered,excited by the news.

“I won’t go into details, but yes.At least you were attempting to bepolite.”

Her eyes widened, and shelooked over at the girls, wonderingwho might have been rude to me. Iwas glad I’d chosen to be discreet,seeing as it was last night someone

called me shallow, and that was asecret.

“So, Kriss, tell me about yourfamily,” I began.

She shrugged. “Typical, I guess.I live with my mom and dad, andthey’re both professors. I think I’dlike to teach as well, though Idabble in writing. I’m an only child,and I’m finally coming to termswith it. I begged my parents for asibling for years. They nevercaved.”

I smiled. It was tough beingalone.

“I’m sure it was because they

wanted to focus all their love onyou.”

She giggled. “Is that what yourparents told you?”

I froze. No one had asked aquestion about me yet.

“Well, not exactly. But Iunderstand how you feel,” Ihedged. I was about to go into therest of my rehearsed questions, butshe beat me to it.

“How are you feeling today?”“All right. It’s a bit

overwhelming,” I blurted, being abit too honest.

“At least you don’t have to wear

the dresses,” she commented.“But think of how fun it would

have been if I had.”A laugh tumbled out of her

mouth, and I echoed it. I imaginedKriss next to Celeste, and thoughtof them as opposites. There wassomething entirely wholesomeabout her. I left our time togetherwithout a complete impression ofher, since she kept pointing theconversation back to me, but Irecognized that she was good, in thebest sense of the word.

It was nearly an hour before Igot to America. In the time between

the first girls and her, I’d alreadymet three solid standouts, includingCeleste and Kriss, who I knewwould be favorites with the public.However, the girl just before her,Ashley, was so dismally wrong forme she washed all of those thoughtsout of my head. When Americastood up and moved toward me,she was the only person on mymind.

Something about her eyes wasmischievous, whether she meant itor not. I thought of how she actedlast night, and I realized she was awalking rebellion.

“America, is it?” I joked as sheapproached.

“Yes, it is. And I know I’veheard your name before, but couldyou remind me?”

I laughed and invited her to sit.Leaning in, I whispered, “Did yousleep well, my dear?”

Her eyes said I was playing withfire, but her lips carried a smile. “Iam still not your dear. But yes.Once I calmed down, I slept verywell. My maids had to pull me outof bed, I was so cozy.” Sheconfessed the last bit like it was asecret.

“I am glad you werecomfortable, my . . .” Ah, I wasgoing to have to break this habitwith her. “America.”

I could tell she appreciated myeffort. “Thank you.” The smilefaded from her face, and she fellinto thought, absently chewing onher lip as she played with words inher head.

“I’m very sorry I was mean toyou,” she finally said. “I realized asI was trying to fall asleep that eventhough this is a strange situation forme, I shouldn’t blame you. You’renot the reason I got swept up in all

this, and the whole Selection thingisn’t even your idea.” Gladsomeone noticed. “And then, whenI was feeling miserable, you werenothing but nice to me, and I was,well, awful.”

She shook her head at herself,and I noticed my heart seemed to bebeating a bit faster.

“You could have thrown me outlast night, and you didn’t,” sheconcluded. “Thank you.”

I was moved by her gratitude,because I already knew she waspast being anything close toinsincere. Which brought me to a

subject I had to broach if we weregoing to move forward. I leanedcloser, elbows on my knees, bothmore casual and more intense thanI’d been with the others already.

“America, you have been veryup-front with me so far. That is aquality that I deeply admire, andI’m going to ask you to be kindenough to answer one question forme.”

She gave a hesitant nod.“You say you’re here by

mistake, so I’m assuming you don’twant to be here. Is there anypossibility of you having any sort

of . . . of loving feelings towardme?”

It felt like she played with theruffles on her dress for hours whileI waited for her to answer, and I satthere convincing myself that it wasonly because she didn’t want toseem too eager.

“You are very kind, YourMajesty.” Yes. “And attractive.”Yes! “And thoughtful.” YES!

I was grinning, looking like anidiot, I’m sure, so pleased shemanaged to see something positivein me after last night.

Her voice was low as she

continued. “But for very validreasons, I don’t think I could.”

For the first time, I was gratefulFather trained me so well to holdmyself together. I sounded quitereasonable when I questioned her.“Would you explain?”

She hesitated again. “I . . . I’mafraid my heart is elsewhere.”

And then tears appeared in hereyes.

“Oh, please don’t cry!” I beggedin a hushed voice. “I never knowwhat to do when women cry!”

She laughed at my shortcomingsand dabbed at the corners of her

eyes. I was happy to see her just so,lighthearted and genuine. Of coursethere was someone waiting for her.A girl this real would have to havebeen snatched up quick by somevery smart young man. I couldn’timagine how she ended up here,but that really wasn’t my concern.

All I knew was, even if shewasn’t mine, I wanted to leave herwith a smile.

“Would you like me to send youhome to your love today?” Ioffered.

She gave me a smile that wasmore like a grimace. “That’s the

thing . . . I don’t want to go home.”“Really?” I leaned back, running

my hand through my hair as shelaughed at me again.

If she didn’t want me, and shedidn’t want him, then what the helldid she want?

“Could I be perfectly honestwith you?”

By all means. I nodded.“I need to be here. My family

needs me to be here. Even if youcould let me stay for a week, thatwould be a blessing for them.”

So she wasn’t fighting for thecrown, but I still had something she

wanted. “You mean you need themoney?”

“Yes.” At least she had thedecency to be ashamed of it. “Andthere are . . . certain people,” shesaid with a meaningful look, “athome who I can’t bear to see rightnow.”

It took a second for it all toclick. They weren’t togetheranymore. She still cared about him,but she didn’t belong to him. Inodded, seeing the predicament. If Icould get away from the pressuresof my world for a week, I wouldtake it.

“If you would be willing to letme stay, even for a little while, I’dbe willing to make a trade.”

Now this was interesting. “Atrade?” What in the world could shepossibly offer?

She bit at her lip. “If you let mestay . . .” She sighed. “All right,well, look at you. You’re theprince. You’re busy all day, whatwith running the country and all,and you’re supposed to narrowthirty-five, well, thirty-four girls,down to one? That’s a lot to ask,don’t you think?”

While it sounded like a joke, the

truth was she cut to the core of myanxieties with absolute clarity. Inodded at her words.

“Wouldn’t it be much better foryou if you had someone on theinside? Someone to help? Like, youknow, a friend?”

“A friend?”“Yes. Let me stay, and I’ll help

you. I’ll be your friend. You don’thave to worry about pursuing me.You already know that I don’t havefeelings for you. But you can talk tome anytime you like, and I’ll tryand help. You said last night thatyou were looking for a confidante.

Well, until you find one for good, Icould be that person. If you want.”

If I want . . . That wasn’t anoption, it seemed, but at least Icould help this girl. And maybeenjoy her company a little bitlonger. Of course, Father would belivid if he knew I was using one ofthe girls for such a purpose . . .which made me like it much, muchmore.

“I’ve met nearly every womanin this room, and I can’t think ofone who would make a betterfriend. I’d be glad to have youstay.”

I watched as the tension meltedfrom her body. Despite theknowledge that her affections wereunattainable, I couldn’t help but bedrawn to try.

“Do you think that I could stillcall you ‘my dear’?” I askedteasingly.

She whispered back, “Not achance.” Whether she meant it thatway or not, it sounded like achallenge.

“I’ll keep trying. I don’t have itin me to give up.”

She made a face, almost irkedbut not exactly. “Did you call all of

them that?” she asked, jerking herhead toward the rest of the girls.

“Yes, and they all seemed to likeit,” I replied, playfully smug.

The challenge in her smile wasstill there when she spoke. “That isthe exact reason why I don’t.”

She stood, ending ourinterview, and I couldn’t help butbe amused by her again. None ofthe others were eager to cut ourtime together short. I gave her asmall bow; she answered with arather rough curtsy, and walkedaway.

I smiled to myself thinking of

America, measuring her against theother girls. She was pretty, if a bitrough around the edges. It was anuncommon type of beauty, and Icould tell she wasn’t aware of it.There was a certain . . . royal air shedidn’t seem to possess, thoughthere was, perhaps, something regalin her pride. And, of course, shedidn’t desire me at all. Still, Icouldn’t shake the urge to pursueher.

And that was how the Selectiondid its first act in my favor: if I hadher here, at least I had the chance totry.

Excerpt from The Elite

Keep reading for a peek at The Elite

CHAPTER 1

THE ANGELES AIR WAS QUIET ,and for a while I lay still, listeningto the sound of Maxon’s breathing.It was getting harder and harder tocatch him in a truly calm and happymoment, and I soaked up the time,grateful that he seemed to be at hisbest when he and I were alone.

Ever since the Selection hadbeen narrowed down to six girls,

he’d been more anxious than hewas when the thirty-five of usarrived in the first place. I guessedhe thought he’d have more time tomake his choices. And though itmade me feel guilty to admit it, Iknew I was the reason why hewished he did.

Prince Maxon, heir to the Illéathrone, liked me. He’d told me aweek ago that if I could simply saythat I cared for him the way he didfor me, without anything holdingme back, this whole competitionwould be over. And sometimes Iplayed with the idea, wondering

how it would feel to be Maxon’salone.

But the thing was, Maxonwasn’t really mine to begin with.There were five other girls here—girls he took on dates andwhispered things to—and I didn’tknow what to make of that. Andthen there was the fact that if Iaccepted Maxon, it meant I had toaccept a crown, a thought I tendedto ignore if only because I wasn’tsure what it would mean for me.

And, of course, there wasAspen.

He wasn’t technically my

boyfriend anymore—he’d brokenup with me before my name waseven drawn for the Selection—butwhen he showed up at the palace asone of the guards, all the feelingsI’d been trying to let go of floodedmy heart. Aspen was my first love;when I looked at him . . . I was his.

Maxon didn’t know that Aspenwas in the palace, but he did knowthat there was someone at homethat I was trying to get over, and hewas graciously giving me time tomove on while attempting to findsomeone else he’d be happy with inthe event I couldn’t ever love him.

As he moved his head, inhalingjust above my hairline, I consideredit. What would it be like to simplylove Maxon?

“Do you know when the lasttime was that I really looked at thestars?” he asked.

I settled closer to him on ourblanket, trying to keep warm in thecool Angeles night. “No idea.”

“A tutor had me studyingastronomy a few years ago. If youlook closely, you can tell that thestars are actually different colors.”

“Wait, the last time you lookedat the stars was to study them?

What about for fun?”He chuckled. “Fun. I’ll have to

pencil in some between the budgetconsultations and infrastructurecommittee meetings. Oh, and warstrategizing, which, by the way, Iam terrible at.”

“What else are you terrible at?” Iasked, running my hand across hisstarched shirt. Encouraged by thetouch, Maxon drew circles on myshoulder with the hand he hadwrapped behind my back.

“Why would you want to knowthat?” he asked in mock irritation.

“Because I still know so little

about you. And you seem perfectall the time. It’s nice to have proofyou’re not.”

He propped himself up on anelbow, focusing on my face. “Youknow I’m not.”

“Pretty close,” I countered.Little flickers of touch ran betweenus. Knees, arms, fingers.

He shook his head, a smallsmile on his face. “Okay, then. Ican’t plan wars. I’m rotten at it.And I’m guessing I’d be a terriblecook. I’ve never tried, so—”

“Never?”“You might have noticed the

teams of people keeping you up toyour neck in pastries? They happento feed me as well.”

I giggled. I helped cookpractically every meal at home.“More,” I demanded. “What else areyou bad at?”

He held me close, his browneyes bright with a secret. “RecentlyI’ve discovered this one thing. . . .”

“Tell.”“It turns out I’m absolutely

terrible at staying away from you.It’s a very serious problem.”

I smiled. “Have you reallytried?”

He pretended to think about it.“Well, no. And don’t expect me tostart.”

We laughed quietly, holding onto each other. In these moments, itwas so easy to picture this being therest of my life.

The rustle of leaves and grassannounced that someone wascoming. Even though our date wascompletely acceptable, I felt a littleembarrassed and sat up quickly.Maxon followed suit as a guardmade his way around the hedge tous.

“Your Majesty,” he said with a

bow. “Sorry to intrude, sir, but it’sreally unwise to stay out this late forso long. The rebels could—”

“Understood,” Maxon said witha sigh. “We’ll be right in.”

The guard left us alone, andMaxon turned back to me. “Anotherfault of mine: I’m losing patiencewith the rebels. I’m tired of dealingwith them.”

He stood and offered me hishand. I took it, watching the sadfrustration in his eyes. We’d beenattacked twice by the rebels sincethe start of the Selection—once bythe simply disruptive Northerners

and once by the deadly Southerners—and even with my briefexperience, I could understand hisexhaustion.

Maxon was picking up theblanket and shaking it out, clearlynot happy that our night had beencut short.

“Hey,” I said, urging him to faceme. “I had fun.”

He nodded.“No, really,” I said, walking

over to him. He moved the blanketto one hand to wrap his free armaround me. “We should do it againsometime. You can tell me which

stars are which colors, because Iseriously can’t tell.”

Maxon gave me a sad smile. “Iwish things were easier sometimes,normal.”

I moved so I could wrap myarms around him, and as I did so,Maxon dropped the blanket toreturn the gesture. “I hate to break itto you, Your Majesty, but evenwithout the guards, you’re far fromnormal.”

His expression lightened a bitbut was still serious. “You’d likeme more if I was.”

“I know you find it hard to

believe, but I really do like you theway you are. I just need more—”

“Time. I know. And I’mprepared to give you that. I onlywish I knew that you’d actuallywant to be with me when that timewas over.”

I looked away. That wasn’tsomething I could promise. Iweighed Maxon and Aspen in myheart over and over, and neither ofthem ever had a true edge. Except,maybe, when I was alone with oneof them. Because, at that moment, Iwas tempted to promise Maxon thatI would be there for him in the end.

But I couldn’t.“Maxon,” I whispered, seeing

how dejected he looked at my lackof an answer. “I can’t tell you that.But what I can tell you is that I wantto be here. I want to know if there’sa possibility for . . . for . . .” Istammered, not sure how to put it.

“Us?” Maxon guessed.I smiled, happy at how easily he

understood me. “Yes. I want toknow if there’s a possibility for usto be an us.”

He moved a lock of hair behindmy shoulder. “I think the odds arevery high,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I think so, too. Just . . . time,okay?”

He nodded, looking happier.This was how I wanted to end ournight, with hope. Well, and maybeone more thing. I bit my lip andleaned into Maxon, asking with myeyes.

Without a second of hesitation,he bent to kiss me. It was warm andgentle, and it left me feeling adoredand somehow aching for more. Icould have stayed there for hours,just to see if I could get enough ofthat feeling; but too soon, Maxonbacked away.

“Let’s go,” he said in a playfultone, pulling me toward the palace.“Better get inside before the guardscome for us on horseback withspears drawn.”

As Maxon left me at the stairs,the tiredness hit me like a wall. Iwas practically dragging myself upto the second floor and around thecorner to my room when, suddenly,I was quite awake again.

“Oh!” Aspen said, surprised tosee me, too. “I think it makes methe worst guard ever that I assumedyou were in your room this wholetime.”

I giggled. The Elite weresupposed to sleep with at least oneof their maids on watch in thenight. I really didn’t like that, soMaxon insisted on stationing aguard by my room in case there wasan emergency. The thing was, mostof the time that guard was Aspen. Itwas a strange mix of exhilarationand terror knowing that nearlyevery night he was right outside mydoor.

The lightness of the momentfaded quickly as Aspen graspedwhat it meant that I hadn’t beensafely tucked in my bed. He cleared

his throat uncomfortably.“Did you have a good time?”“Aspen,” I whispered, looking

to make sure no one was around.“Don’t be upset. I’m part of theSelection, and this is just how it is.”

“How am I supposed to stand achance, Mer? How can I competewhen you only ever talk to one ofus?” He made a good point, butwhat could I do?

“Please don’t be mad at me,Aspen. I’m trying to figure all thisout.”

“No, Mer,” he said, gentlenessreturning to his voice. “I’m not mad

at you. I miss you.” He didn’t daresay the words aloud, but hemouthed them. I love you.

I melted.“I know,” I said, placing a hand

on his chest, letting myself forgetfor a moment all that we wererisking. “But that doesn’t changewhere we are or that I’m an Elitenow. I need time, Aspen.”

He reached up to hold my handin his and nodded. “I can give youthat. Just . . . try to find some timefor me, too.”

I didn’t want to bring up howcomplicated that would be, so I

gave him a tiny smile before gentlypulling my hand away. “I need togo.”

He watched me as I walked intomy room and shut the door behindme.

Time. I was asking for a lot of itthese days. I hoped that if I hadenough, everything wouldsomehow fall into place.

CHAPTER 2

“NO, NO,” QUEEN AMBERLYANSWERED with a laugh. “I onlyhad three bridesmaids, thoughClarkson’s mother suggested I havemore. I just wanted my sisters andmy best friend, who, coincidentally,I’d met during my Selection.”

I peeked over at Marlee and washappy to find she was looking atme, too. Before I arrived at the

palace, I had assumed that with thisbeing such a high-stakescompetition, there’d be no way anyof the girls would be friendly.Marlee had embraced me the firsttime we met, and we’d been therefor each other from that momenton. With a single almost-exception,we’d never even had an argument.

A few weeks ago, Marlee hadmentioned that she didn’t think shewanted to be with Maxon. When I’dpushed her to explain, she clammedup. She wasn’t mad at me, I knewthat, but those days of silencebefore we’d let it go were lonely.

“I want seven bridesmaids,”Kriss said. “I mean, if Maxonchooses me and I get to have a bigwedding.”

“Well, I won’t havebridesmaids,” Celeste said,countering Kriss. “They’re justdistracting. And since it would betelevised, I want all eyes on me.”

I fumed. It was rare that we allgot to sit and talk with QueenAmberly, and here Celeste was,being a brat and ruining it.

“I’d want to incorporate someof my culture’s traditions into mywedding,” Elise added quietly.

“Girls back in New Asia use a lot ofred in their ceremonies, and thegroom has to bring gifts to thebride’s friends to reward them forletting her marry him.”

Kriss piped up. “Remind me tobe in your wedding party. I lovepresents!”

“Me, too!” Marlee exclaimed.“Lady America, you’ve been

awfully quiet,” Queen Amberlysaid. “What do you want at yourwedding?”

I blushed because I wascompletely unprepared to comment.

There was only one wedding I’d

ever imagined, and it was going totake place at the Province ofCarolina Services Office after anexhausting amount of paperwork.

“Well, the one thing I’vethought about is having my dadgive me away. You know when hetakes your hand and puts it in thehand of the person you marry?That’s the only part I’ve ever reallywanted.” Embarrassingly enough, itwas true.

“But everyone does that,”Celeste complained. “That’s noteven original.”

I should have been mad that she

called me out, but I merelyshrugged. “I want to know that mydad completely approves of mychoice on the day it really matters.”

“That’s nice,” Natalie said,sipping her tea and looking out thewindow.

Queen Amberly laughed lightly.“I certainly hope he approves. Nomatter who it is.” She added the lastwords quickly, catching herself inthe middle of implying that Maxonwould be my choice.

I wondered if she thought that,if Maxon had told her about us.

Shortly after, the wedding talk

died down, and the queen left to gowork in her room. Celeste parkedherself in front of the largetelevision embedded in the wall,and the others started a card game.

“That was fun,” Marlee said aswe settled in at a table together.“I’m not sure I’ve ever heard thequeen talk so much.”

“She’s getting excited, I think.”I hadn’t mentioned to anyone whatMaxon’s aunt had told me abouthow Queen Amberly tried manytimes for another child and failed.Adele had predicted that her sisterwould warm up to us once the

group was smaller, and she wasright.

“Okay, you have to tell me: Doyou honestly not have any otherplans for your wedding or did youjust not want to share?”

“I really don’t,” I promised. “Ihave a hard time picturing a bigwedding, you know? I’m a Five.”

Marlee shook her head. “Youwere a Five. You’re a Three now.”

“Right,” I said, remembering mynew label.

I was born into a family ofFives—artists and musicians whowere generally poorly paid—and

though I hated the caste system ingeneral, I liked what I did for aliving. It was strange to think ofmyself as a Three, to considerembracing teaching or writing as aprofession.

“Stop stressing,” Marlee said,reading my face. “You don’t haveanything to worry about yet.”

I was about to protest but wasinterrupted by a cry from Celeste.

“Come on!” she yelled,slamming the remote against thecouch before pointing it at thetelevision again. “Ugh!”

“Is it just me or is she getting

worse?” I whispered to Marlee. Wewatched as Celeste hit the remoteover and over before giving up andgoing to change the channelmanually. I guessed if I had grownup as a Two, that would besomething worth getting worked upover.

“It’s the stress, I think,” Marleecommented. “Have you noticed thatNatalie’s getting, I don’t know . . .more aloof?”

I nodded, and we both lookedover to the trio of girls playing theircard game. Kriss was smiling as sheshuffled, but Natalie was examining

the ends of her hair, occasionallypulling out a strand she didn’t seemto like. Her expression wasdistracted.

“I think we’re all starting to feelit,” I confessed. “It’s harder to sitback and enjoy the palace now thatthe group is so small.”

Celeste grunted, and we peekedover at her but quickly averted oureyes when she caught us looking.

“Excuse me for a moment,”Marlee said, shifting in her seat. “Ithink I’m going to go to thebathroom.”

“I was just thinking the same

thing. Do you want to go together?”I offered.

Smiling, she shook her head.“You go ahead. I’ll finish my teafirst.”

“Okay. I’ll be back.”I left the Women’s Room,

taking my time walking down thegorgeous hallway. I wasn’t sure Iwould ever get over howspectacular it was here. I was sodistracted that I ran smack into aguard as I turned the corner.

“Oh!” I said.“Pardon me, miss. Hope I didn’t

startle you.” He held me by my

elbows, helping me regain myfooting.

“No,” I said, giggling. “It’s fine.I should have been watching whereI was going. Thanks for catchingme. Officer . . .”

“Woodwork,” he answered,giving me a quick bow.

“I’m America.”“I know.”I smiled and rolled my eyes. Of

course he knew.“Well, I hope the next time I run

into you, it won’t be quite soliteral,” I joked.

He chuckled. “Agreed. Have a

nice day, miss.”“You, too.”I told Marlee about my

embarrassing run-in with OfficerWoodwork when I got back andwarned her to watch her step. Shelaughed at me and shook her head.

We spent the rest of theafternoon sitting by the windows,chatting about home and the othergirls as we drank in the sunshine.

It was sad to think about thefuture just then. Eventually theSelection would be over, and whileI knew Marlee and I would still beclose, I would miss talking to her

every day. She was the first realfriend I’d ever made, and I wishedI could keep her beside me all thetime.

As I tried to stay in the moment,Marlee gazed dreamily out thewindow. I wondered what she wasthinking about; but everything wasso peaceful, I didn’t ask.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

PHOTO BY ROBBIE POFF

KIERA CASS is a graduate ofRadford University and currentlylives in Blacksburg, Virginia, with

her family. Her fantasy novel thesiren was self-published in 2009.Kiera has kissed approximatelyfourteen boys in her life. None ofthem were princes. You can learnmore about Kiera’s books, videos,and love of cake online atwww.kieracass.com.

Visit www.AuthorTracker.com forexclusive information on yourfavorite HarperCollins authors.

OTHER BOOKS

ALSO BY KIERA CASS

The Selection

COPYRIGHT

Copyright © 2013 by Kiera Cass

All rights reserved underInternational and Pan-American

Copyright Conventions. Bypayment of the required fees, you

have been granted thenonexclusive, nontransferable rightto access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text

may be reproduced, transmitted,downloaded, decompiled, reverse-

engineered, or stored in orintroduced into any information

storage and retrieval system, in anyform or by any means, whetherelectronic or mechanical, nowknown or hereinafter invented,

without the express writtenpermission of HarperCollins e-

books.

EPUB Edition © January 2013 ISBN9780062248169

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

FIRST EDITION

BACK ADS

ABOUT THEPUBLISHER

AustraliaHarperCollins Publishers

(Australia) Pty. Ltd.Level 13, 201 Elizabeth StreetSydney, NSW 2000, Australia

http://www.harpercollins.com.au

CanadaHarperCollins Canada

2 Bloor Street East - 20th FloorToronto, ON, M4W, 1A8, Canada

http://www.harpercollins.ca

New ZealandHarperCollins Publishers (New

Zealand) LimitedP.O. Box 1

Auckland, New Zealandhttp://www.harpercollins.co.nz

United KingdomHarperCollins Publishers Ltd.77–85 Fulham Palace Road

London, W6 8JB, UKhttp://www.harpercollins.co.uk

United StatesHarperCollins Publishers Inc.

10 East 53rd StreetNew York, NY 10022

http://www.harpercollins.com