“Miss Marlee suggested it during the family photo session yesterday,” I said quickly.
Lady Brice nodded, and it was at this moment that Neena entered the office as well. Though I wasn’t sure how comfortable I was sharing everything in front of Josie, it seemed I had no choice.
“Okay,” I began slowly, “we have a problem. And his name is Marid Illéa.”
“Really?” Neena asked. “He’s seemed helpful so far.”
“Yes, that was how he meant it to look. But, in truth, his goal has always been to take the crown.” I swallowed, feeling stupid all over again. “Last night I called him out for encouraging the press to think that we were more than friends, and he made it clear that he was planning to pursue this angle until the public would demand that I marry him.”
Lady Brice put her head in her hands. “I knew he could undermine this whole thing. I knew it. We should have squashed the rumors.”
I shook my head. “This isn’t your fault. You gave me the opportunity early on, and I didn’t take it. I just never thought he’d try to worm his way into the palace as a permanent fixture.”
“It’s so sneaky,” Lady Brice said, balling her hands into fists. “His parents threw rocks and stormed the palace. All he has to do is make a few properly timed speeches, and he’s in without looking remotely aggressive.”
“Exactly. And I’m . . . I’m scared. If he sways the people to believe he should be my prince consort, they’ll come after the monarchy. They’ve been on the edge of revolt for a while, and now that I’m queen, there’s nothing to stop the people who held out for my father’s sake. But if we concede, and he’s here . . . if he could lie that easily just to get near to me . . .”
“What would he do when he sees he doesn’t need you anymore?” Lady Brice said somberly.
I’d already pictured a dozen different scenarios. He’d say I slipped down the stairs, or fell asleep in the bath, or that the Singer genes had gotten to my heart, too. I didn’t want to think of Marid as purely evil, but I understood that he was out for power and had no regard for me.
It was possible I was being paranoid, I knew that. But after having missed so many things in the last few months, things that should have forced me to be careful, to speak up, to do something, now wasn’t the time to assume things would be fine.
“Then we have to silence him. What do we do?” Neena asked.
“Why do you need to do anything?” Josie asked. We all turned, and her smile faded under the weight of our stares. “I mean, you’re the queen. You could just kill him if you wanted. If he was being a traitor, right?”
“If he acts like a traitor, yes. But when it seems like he’s in love with me and I decide to hang him, how does that make me look?”
She squinted, taking that in. “Awful.”
“Worse than awful. And my approval is hanging on by a thread as it is. I can’t have him killed. I don’t even think I can publicly say I have no interest in him now, not without backlash.”
“Then what?” Lady Brice asked.
“This doesn’t leave the room. Does everyone understand?” I stared at Josie, hoping she understood the importance of secrecy. “First, we will ignore Marid. He’s not allowed in the palace, and if he calls, no one speaks to him. He’s completely shut out of my presence from here on out. We can’t give the press so much as a whisper to draw from.”
“Agreed,” Lady Brice commented.
“Second, I’ve mapped out how the next few weeks will go in terms of the Selection. Ean is heading home this morning. We spoke last night, and he’s ready to go. Early next week Hale will be leaving as well.”
Neena made a face. “I’m sad to see Hale go.”
“Me, too. But this was a mutual agreement, so I assure you there are no hard feelings on either side.”
“That makes it easier,” she admitted. “But wait. Aren’t you supposed to choose within four days once you get to a top three?”
“Yes. The only way to beat Marid at his game is to choose a husband as quickly as possible. And regardless of how deeply in love I may or may not be, it has to look as good as what my parents have. Better, if we can manage it.” I took a deep breath. “So once Hale is gone, we’ll wait a few days and then eliminate Fox. He’s nice, but we don’t have a real connection. That will leave Kile and Henri as the final two, and I intend to do a live broadcast in about two weeks to announce my fiancé.”
“Two weeks!” Neena gasped. “Eadlyn!”
“I will need help with the perception of this,” I went on. “I checked some recent poll numbers, and Hale and Kile have been front-runners for a while. I’ll take care of making sure that Hale’s decision to go is seen as necessary so the people will be satisfied with his departure, but we need something sensational about Henri. Like that he bakes for people in nursing homes or that his family is descended from Swendish nobility. Even if you have to stretch the truth, do it. Get him to the final two with everyone’s approval.”
No one spoke for a moment.
“Do you even love Kile?” Josie asked. For once her face had lost its ridiculously blank look, and I saw the deep, genuine concern in her eyes.
I thought of Erik. Of him promising me that it was worth it. Of how he’d treated me from the very start. Of how he’d kissed me.
Of how he’d be gone soon.
“I’d be happy with Kile.”
Certainly leaders before me had made much bigger sacrifices, but Lady Brice, Neena, and Josie all looked as though I was marching into death.
“Are you going to help me or not?” I demanded.
“I’ll see what I can find out about Henri,” Lady Brice said. “I’d prefer to start with the absolute truth first.”
“As would I. And I feel confident you’ll be able to find something for him. He’s such a sweetheart.”
“He is,” Neena agreed. “As is Kile. You could do much worse.”
Yes, I thought. But I could also do much better.
“Do what you need to get everything in place for this. I’m going to spend the rest of the day working from my room. Josie?” She snapped to attention. “Are you coming back tomorrow, or was this enough for you?”
“It was more than enough,” she said, swallowing.
“Not a word, you understand?”
She nodded, but I could hardly bear to look at her. She seemed so sad for me, and of all people, I couldn’t stand her pitying me. But when I looked at Neena and Lady Brice, their expressions were just as bad.
I pulled myself up as tall as I could and left the room, remembering that, no matter what, I was still queen.
CHAPTER 25
“WHAT IS THIS PLACE?” ERIK asked. I’d done my best to make it cozy, sneaking in with a basket full of candles and blankets midday, and another full of food when everyone left for dinner.
Erik said he was sick, I said I had work, and we met in an inconspicuous spot on the second floor. One of the easiest passages that led down to the massive safe room was by my mother’s old bedroom, the one she’d had during her Selection. Sometimes she took pilgrimages there, like it was the calmest place for her to be in the palace.
“Back when the rebels were a deadly threat, the royal family used to escape down here,” I told Erik as we made our way through the passage. “But this place hasn’t been used in well over a decade, and now I think it may be the palace’s best kept secret.”
“In other words, no one’s finding us,” Erik responded with a smile.
“Not if we don’t want them to.”
He took a deep breath. “I’ve felt so guilty today, torn between how excited I was about your invitation and how guilty I feel since I’m not even a choice.”
I nodded, pulling plates from the basket and setting them on top of the blankets. “I know. I’ve been cursing the Selection in ways I haven’t since my parents first mentioned it. And then I take it all back, because if it had never happened . . .”
We shared a long look. I broke it with a sigh,
continuing to set out our candlelit picnic.
“You know, my father wasn’t supposed to marry my mother.”
“You’re kidding,” he said, joining me.
“Apparently my grandfather had handpicked the girls who came to compete. He only threw in three Fives to appease the lower castes, and he hated Mom from the get-go. On top of that, I found out my parents used to argue all the time.” I shrugged, still surprised by their rocky history. “I grew up thinking that they were a fairy tale, you know? It turns out they were just like anyone else. Somehow that makes it even more magical.”
I let the words hang, thinking of everything I knew now.
“They slow dance when it rains. I have no idea why, but every time the sky turns gray, you’ll find them together.” I smiled. “I remember once Dad barged into the Women’s Room, which is completely improper. You’re supposed to be invited in. But it was raining, and he wasn’t going to wait to sweep her away. And one time he dipped her in the hallway, and she just laughed and laughed. She was still wearing her hair down then, and I’ll never forget how it looked like a waterfall of red. It’s like no matter what happens, they can find themselves again there.”
“I know what you mean.” Erik eyed the bottle of red wine I’d snagged and grinned. “My parents find themselves over omenalörtsy.”
I wrapped my arms around my knees, tucking my dress beneath me. “What’s that?”
“It’s like an apple doughnut. My mother made him a batch when they were dating, and it became their thing. When something good happens: omenalörtsy. When they’re making up after a fight: omenalörtsy. When it seems like a particularly wonderful Friday: omenalörtsy.”
“How did they meet?”
“This will sound strange, but through bolts and screws.”
I squinted. “So . . . are they mechanics?”
“No,” he replied with a chuckle. “My parents have known each other basically their entire lives. They grew up in the same small town in Swendway. When they were eleven, some guys at school were picking on my dad, throwing his schoolwork in the mud. My mom was even smaller than him at the time, but she went right up and yelled at them and pulled my dad away.
“He was embarrassed, but she was enraged. She forced him into an alliance, and that night they met each other on a back road, ran to each of the three bullies’ houses, and stole the screws out of their bike wheels so they’d have to walk. For weeks after that, any time they saw that one of the bullies had replaced the screws, my mom and dad would go steal them. After a while the bullies gave up and walked.”