The Elite (The Selection #2) Page 41
He cleared his throat. “America, before I go …”
I looked up to Maxon’s face and felt the tears rising.
“I need you to know that everything—”
“Maxon,” the king barked. Maxon lifted his head and waited for his father’s instructions. “We need to go.”
Maxon nodded. “Good-bye, America,” he said quietly, and lifted my hand to his lips. As he did so, he noted the little homemade bracelet I wore. He studied it, seeming confused, then kissed my hand tenderly.
That little feather of a kiss sent me back to a memory that felt years old. He had kissed my hand like that my first night in the palace when I’d yelled at him, when he’d let me stay anyway.
The other girls’ eyes were glued to the king and Maxon as they left, but I was watching the queen. Her entire body seemed weak. How many times would her husband and only child be put in danger before she cracked?
The moment the door shut behind her family, Queen Amberly blinked a few times, inhaled deeply, and pulled herself up to her full height.
“Forgive me, ladies, but this sudden news will require a lot of work from me. I think it’s best if I go to my room so I can focus.” She was fighting so hard. “How about I have lunch delivered here so you can eat at your leisure, and I will join you all for dinner tonight?”
We nodded. “Excellent,” she said, and turned to leave. I knew she was strong. She’d grown up in a poor neighborhood in a poor province, working in a factory until she was chosen for the Selection. Then, once she was queen, she suffered miscarriage after miscarriage before she finally had a child. She would make it to her room looking like a lady, as her position demanded. But she would cry once she was alone.
After the queen left, Celeste went, too. Then I decided I didn’t have to stay either. I went to my room, wanting to be alone and to think.
I kept wondering about Kriss. How had she and Maxon suddenly connected? Not too long ago, he was making me promises about our future. He couldn’t have been that interested in her if he was saying such intimate things to me. It must have happened after that.
The day passed quickly. After dinner, as my maids quietly helped me prepare for bed, a single sentence lifted me from my reflections.
“Do you know who I found in here this morning, miss?” Anne asked as she gently pulled a brush through my hair.
“Who?”
“Officer Leger.”
I froze, but only for a fraction of a second. “Oh?” I said. I kept my eyes on my reflection as they continued.
“Yes,” Lucy said. “He said he was doing a sweep of your room. Something about security.” She looked a little confused.
“It was strange though,” Anne said, echoing Lucy’s expression. “He was in his plain clothes, not his uniform. He shouldn’t be doing security work on his time off.”
“He must be very dedicated,” I commented in a disconnected tone.
“I think he is,” Lucy said with awe. “Whenever I see him around the palace, he’s always noticing things. He’s a very good soldier.”
“True,” Mary said matter-of-factly. “Some of the men who come through here really aren’t fit for the job.”
“And he looks good in his plain clothes. Most of them look terrible once you get them out of their uniforms,” Lucy commented.
Mary giggled and blushed, and even Anne cracked a smile. It had been a long time since they’d seemed so relaxed. On another day, in another moment, it might be fun to gossip about the guards. Not today though. All I could think about was that there was a letter in my room from Aspen. I wanted to peek over my shoulder at my jar, but I didn’t dare.
It felt like an eternity before they left me alone. I forced myself to be patient and wait a few minutes to make sure they didn’t come back. Finally I darted over to my bed and clutched my jar. Sure enough, a tiny slip of paper was waiting for me.
Maxon is gone. This changes everything.
CHAPTER 22
“HELLO?” I WHISPERED, FOLLOWING THE instructions Aspen had left for me the day before. I cautiously walked into a room lit only by the fading daylight spilling in through the gossamer curtains, but it was enough for me to see the excitement on Aspen’s face.
I closed the door behind me, and he immediately ran over and scooped me up.
“I’ve missed you.”
“I missed you, too. I was so busy with that reception, I barely had time to breathe.”
“Glad it’s over. Did you have a hard time getting here?” he joked.
I giggled. “Seriously, Aspen, you’re way too good at your job.” It was almost comical how simple his idea was. The queen was a little more relaxed when it came to running the palace. Or maybe she was distracted. Either way, she’d made dinner an option: in your room or downstairs. My maids prepped me for the meal, but instead of heading to the dining room, I walked across the hall to Bariel’s old room. It was too easy.
He smiled as he took in my praise and sat me down in the back corner of the room on some pillows he’d already piled there. “Are you comfortable?”
I nodded and expected him to sit too, but he didn’t. Instead he pushed over a large couch, which blocked the door from sight, and then pulled in a table that brushed the top of our heads as we sat on the floor. Finally he grabbed a bundle he’d left on top of the table—it smelled like food—and settled next to me.
“Almost like home, huh?” He moved behind me so I was between his legs. The position was so familiar and the space was so small that it did feel a little like our old tree house. It was like he’d taken a piece of something I thought was gone forever and placed it neatly in my hands.
“It’s even better.” I sighed, leaning into him. After a minute I felt his fingers combing down my hair. It gave me shivers.
For a while we sat there in silence, and I closed my eyes and focused on the sound of Aspen’s breathing. Not so long ago, I’d done the same thing with Maxon. But this was different. If I had to, I thought I could pick Aspen’s breathing out of a crowd. I knew him so well. And, clearly, he knew me. This tiny bit of peace was everything I’d been aching for, and Aspen made it real.
“What are you thinking about, Mer?”
“Lots of things.” I sighed. “Home, you, Maxon, the Selection, everything.”
“What are you thinking about all of that?”
“Mostly how confused I get about them. Like how I’ll think I understand what’s happening to me, and then something shifts, and my feelings change.”
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