The Selection Stories Collection (87 page)

Underneath thick lashes were eyes blue as ice, something cool to balance out the flames in her hair. Her cheeks were smooth and slightly blushed from crying. And her lips, soft and pink, slightly parted as she studied our hands.

I felt a strange flutter in my chest, like the glow of a fireplace or the warmth of the afternoon. It stayed there for a moment, playing with my pulse.

I mentally chastised myself. How typical to become so infatuated with the first girl I was ever allowed to actually have any sort of feelings for. It was foolish, too quick to be real, and I pushed the warmth away. All the same, I didn’t want to dismiss her. Time might prove that she was someone worth having in the running. America was clearly someone I’d need to win over, and that might take time. But I would start right now.

“If it would make you happy, I could let the staff know you prefer the garden. Then you can come out here at night without being manhandled by the guard. I would prefer if you had one nearby, though.” No need to worry her with just how often we were attacked. So long as a guard was close, she should be fine.

“I don’t . . . I don’t think I want anything from you.” She gently pulled her hand away and looked at the grass.

“As you wish.” I was a little disappointed. What horrible thing had I done to make her push me away? Maybe this girl was unwinnable. “Will you be heading inside soon?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Then I’ll leave you with your thoughts. There will be a guard near the door waiting for you.” I wanted her to take her time, but I dreaded some unexpected assault hurting any of the girls, even this girl who seemed to have developed a serious distaste for me.

“Thank you, um, Your Majesty.” I heard a sort of vulnerability in her voice, and realized that maybe it wasn’t me. Maybe she was just overwhelmed by everything that was happening to her. How could I blame her for that? I decided to risk rejection again.

“Dear America, will you do me a favor?” I took her hand once more, and she looked up to me with a skeptical face. There was something about those eyes on me, like she was searching for truth in mine and would have it at all costs.

“Maybe.”

Her tone gave me hope, and I grinned. “Don’t mention this to the others. Technically, I’m not supposed to meet you until tomorrow, and I don’t want anyone getting upset.” I gave a light snort, and I immediately wished I could take it back. Sometimes I had the
worst
laugh. “Though I wouldn’t call you yelling at me anything close to a romantic tryst, would you?”

Finally America gave me a playful smirk. “Not at all!” She paused and let out a breath. “I won’t tell.”

“Thank you.” I should have been happy enough with her smile, should have walked away at that. But something in me—perhaps being raised to always push forward, to succeed—urged me to take one step more. I pulled her hand to my lips and kissed it. “Good night.” I left before she had a chance to chastise me or I had an opportunity to do anything else stupid.

I wanted to look back and see her expression, but if it was something in the area of disgust, I didn’t think I could bear it. If Father could read my thoughts right now, he’d be less than pleased. By now, after everything, I ought to be tougher than this.

When I got to the doors, I turned to the guards. “She needs a moment. If she’s not in within half an hour,
kindly
urge her to come inside.” I met both of their eyes, making sure they grasped the concept. “It would also behoove you to refrain from mentioning this to anyone. Understood?”

They nodded, and I made my way to the main stairwell. As I walked I heard one guard whisper, “What’s
behoove
?”

I rolled my eyes and continued up the stairs. Once I made it to the third floor, I practically ran to my room. I had a huge balcony that overlooked the gardens. I wasn’t going to step outside and let her know I was watching, but I did go to the window and pull back the curtain.

She stayed maybe ten minutes or so, seeming calmer by the minute. I watched as she wiped her face, brushed off her nightgown, and headed inside. I debated hopping into the hallway on the second floor so we could accidentally-on-purpose meet again. But I thought better of it. She was upset tonight, probably not herself. If I was going to have a chance at all, I’d have to wait until tomorrow.

Tomorrow . . . when thirty-four other girls would be placed before me. Oh, I was an idiot to wait so long. I went to my desk and dug out the stack of files about the girls, studying their pictures. I didn’t know whose idea it was to put the names on the back, but that was far less than helpful. I grabbed a pen and transcribed the names to the front. Hannah, Anna . . . how was I supposed to keep that straight? Jenna, Janelle, and Camille . . . seriously? That was going to be a disaster. I had to learn at least a few. Then I’d just rely on the pins until I got the names straight.

Because I could do this. I could do it well. I had to. I had to prove, finally, that I could lead, make decisions. How else would anyone trust me as their king? How would the king himself trust me at all?

I focused on standouts. Celeste . . . I remembered the name. One of my advisors had mentioned she was a model and showed me a picture of her in a bathing suit on the glossy pages of a magazine. She was probably the sexiest candidate, and I certainly wouldn’t hold that against her. Lyssa jumped out at me, but not in a good way. Unless she had a winning personality, she wasn’t even in the running. Maybe that was a bit shallow, but was it so bad that I wanted someone attractive? Ah, Elise. Based on the exotic slant of her eyes, she was the girl Father had mentioned who had family in New Asia. She’d be in the running on that alone.

America.

I studied her picture. Her smile was absolutely radiant.

What made her smile so brightly, then? Was it me? Had whatever she felt for me that day passed? She didn’t seem very happy to meet me. But . . . she did smile in the end.

Tomorrow I would have to start fresh with her. I wasn’t sure of what I was looking for, but so much of what seemed
right
was staring back at me in that photograph. Maybe it was her will or her honesty, maybe it was the soft skin on the back of her hand or her perfume . . . but I knew, with a singular clarity, that I wanted her to like me.

How exactly was I supposed to do that?

I
HELD THE BLUE TIE
up. No. The tan? No. Was I going to have this much trouble getting dressed every day?

I wanted to make a good first impression with these girls—and a good second impression with one—and apparently I was convinced this all 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 picked up, I finished getting dressed and smoothed my hair back.

I walked out the door and found my parents by the stairwell having a hushed conversation. I debated taking a back route, not wanting to interrupt them, but my mother waved me over.

Once I reached them, she started tugging on my sleeves, then moved to my back to smooth my coat. “Remember,” she said, “they’re swarming with nerves, and the thing to do right now is make them feel at home.”

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

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

“But don’t keep anyone around if you know you don’t want them. The sooner we get to the true candidates, 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.” She pulled me in for a big hug, and backed away to restraighten everything.

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

“We’ll be waiting in the dining hall.”

I felt dizzy. “Um, yes. Thank you.”

I paused for a minute to catch my breath. I knew they were trying to help, but they’d managed to throw off any sense of calm I’d built. I reminded myself that this was just me saying hello, that the girls were hoping this would work out as much as I was.

And then I remembered that I was going to get to speak to America again. At the very least, that should be entertaining. With that in mind I breezed down the stairs to the first floor and made my way to the Great Room. I took one deep breath and gave a knock on the door before pulling it open.

There, past the guards, waited the collection of girls. Cameras flashed, capturing both their reaction and mine. I smiled at their hopeful faces, feeling calmer just because they all looked so pleased to be here.

“Your Majesty.” I turned and caught Silvia coming up from her curtsy. I nearly forgot that she would be there, instructing them in protocol the way she instructed me when I was younger.

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

“Of course,” she said breathlessly, bending again. She could be so dramatic sometimes.

I surveyed the faces, looking for the flame of her hair. It took a moment, as I was a bit distracted by the light glinting off nearly every wrist, ear, and neck in the room. I finally found her, a few rows in on the end, looking at me with a different expression than the others. I smiled, but instead of smiling back, she looked confused.

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

Some of the girls giggled, and I was happy to realize I could identify more of them than I thought I would. I went to the young lady in the front corner, and extended my hand. She took it enthusiastically, and we walked over to the couches that I knew would be set up specifically for this purpose.

Sadly, Lyssa was no more attractive in person than she was in her picture. Still, she deserved the benefit of the doubt, so we spoke all the same.

“Good morning, Lyssa.”

“Good morning, Your Majesty.” She smiled so widely, it looked like it must hurt her to do so.

“How are you finding the palace?”

“It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. It’s really beautiful here. Gosh, I already said that, didn’t I?”

I answered with a smile. “It’s quite all right. I’m glad you’re so pleased. What do you do at home?”

“I’m a Five. My whole family works exclusively in sculpting. You have some incredible pieces here. Really beautiful.”

I tried to seem interested, but she didn’t engage me at all. Still, what if I passed on someone for no good reason?

“Thank you. Um, how many siblings do you have?”

After a few minutes of conversation in which she used the word
beautiful
no less than twelve times, I knew that there was nothing else I wanted to know about this girl.

It was time for me to move on, but it seemed so cruel to keep her here knowing there was no chance for us. I decided that I was going to start making cuts here and now. It would be kinder to the girls, and maybe also impress Father. After all, he did say he wanted me to make some real choices in my life.

“Lyssa, thank you so much for your time. Once I’m done with everyone, would you mind staying a little longer so I could speak with you?”

She blushed. “Absolutely.”

We rose, and I felt awful knowing that she assumed that request meant something it didn’t. “Would you please send the next young lady over?”

She nodded and curtsied before she went to get the girl beside her, who I recognized immediately as Celeste Newsome. It would take a dim man indeed to forget that face.

“Good morning, Lady Celeste.”

“Good morning, Your Majesty,” she said as she curtsied. Her voice was sugary, and I realized right away that many of these girls might have a hold on me. Maybe all this worry about not being able to love any of them wasn’t the true problem. 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 you model.”

“I do,” she answered brightly, thrilled to see I already knew this about her. “Primarily clothing. I’ve been told I have a good shape for it.”

Of course, at those words, I was forced to look at said shape, and there was no denying just how striking 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 very into photography myself.”

“Really? We should do a shoot sometime.”

“That would be wonderful.” Ah! This was going better than I thought. Within ten minutes I’d already weeded out a definite no and found someone with a common interest.

I could have probably gone on for another hour with Celeste, but if we were ever going to eat, I really needed to hurry.

“My dear, I’m so sorry to cut this short, but I have to meet everyone this morning,” I apologized.

“Of course.” She stood. “I’m looking forward to finishing our conversation. Hopefully soon.”

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

Bariel, Emmica, Tiny, and several others passed through. So far, most of them were pleasant and composed. But I was hoping for so much more than that.

It took five more girls until anything really interesting happened. As I stepped forward to greet the slim brunette coming my way, she extended her hand. “Hi, I’m Kriss.”

I stared at her open palm and was prepared to shake it before she pulled it back.

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

I laughed.

“I feel so silly. The very first thing, and I got it wrong.” But she smiled it off, and it was actually kind of charming.

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