The Selection (The Selection #1)

The Selection (The Selection #1) Page 27

“I am glad you were comfortable, my… America,” he corrected himself.

“Thank you,” I said. I fidgeted with a piece of my dress for a moment, trying to think of how to say this right. “I’m very sorry I was mean to you. I realized as I was trying to fall asleep that even though this is a strange situation for me, I shouldn’t blame you. You’re not the reason I got swept up in all this, and the whole Selection thing isn’t even your idea. And then, when I was feeling miserable, you were nothing but nice to me, and I was, well, awful. You could have thrown me out last night, and you didn’t. Thank you.”

Maxon’s eyes were tender. I bet every girl before me had already melted because he’d given them a look like this. I would have been bothered that he looked at me that way, but it was obviously just part of his nature. He ducked his head for a moment. When he looked at me again, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as if he wanted me to understand the importance of what was coming next.

“America, you have been very up front with me so far. That is a quality that I deeply admire, and I’m going to ask you to be kind enough to answer one question for me.”

I nodded, a little afraid of what he wanted to know. He leaned in even closer to whisper. “You say you’re here by mistake, so I’m assuming you don’t want to be here. Is there any possibility of you having any sort of … of loving feelings toward me?”

I couldn’t help but fidget a little. I genuinely didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but I couldn’t beat around the bush on this.

“You are very kind, Your Majesty, and attractive, and thoughtful.” He smiled at that. In a low voice I added, “But for very valid reasons, I don’t think I could.”

“Would you explain?” His face hid it well, but I could hear the disappointment caused by my immediate rejection. I guessed he wasn’t used to that.

It wasn’t something I wanted to share, but I didn’t think anything else would make him understand. In an even lower whisper than I’d used before, I told him the truth.

“I … I’m afraid my heart is elsewhere.” I could feel my eyes getting wet.

“Oh, please don’t cry!” Maxon’s whisper was marked with a genuine worry. “I never know what to do when women cry!”

That made me laugh, and any threat of tears retreated for the moment. The relief on his face was unmistakable.

“Would you like me to let you go home to your love today?” he asked. It was obvious that my preference for someone else bothered him, but instead of choosing to be angry, he showed compassion. The gesture made me trust him.

“That’s the thing.... I don’t want to go home.”

“Really?” He ran his fingers through his hair, and I had to laugh again at how lost he seemed.

“Could I be perfectly honest with you?”

He nodded.

“I need to be here. My family needs me to be here. Even if you could let me stay for a week, that would be a blessing for them.”

“You mean you need the money?”

“Yes.” I felt bad admitting it. It must have seemed like I was using him. In truth, I guess I was. But there was more to it. “And there are … certain people”—I looked up at him—“at home who I can’t bear to see right now.”

Maxon nodded his head in understanding but did not speak.

I hesitated. I guessed the worst that could happen now was being sent home anyway, so I continued. “If you would be willing to let me stay, even for a little while, I’d be willing to make a trade,” I offered.

His eyebrows shot up. “A trade?”

I bit my lip. “If you let me stay…” This was going to sound so stupid. “All right, well, look at you. You’re the prince. You’re busy all day, what with helping run a country and all, and you’re supposed to find time to narrow thirty-five, well, thirty-four girls, down to one? That’s a lot to ask, don’t you think?”

He nodded. I could see his genuine exhaustion at the thought.

“Wouldn’t it be much better for you if you had someone on the inside? Someone to help? Like, you know, a friend?”

“A friend?” he asked.

“Yes. Let me stay, and I’ll help you. I’ll be your friend.” He smiled at the words. “You don’t have to worry about pursuing me. You already know that I don’t have feelings for you. But you can talk to me anytime you like, and I’ll try and help. You said last night that you were looking for a confidante. Well, until you find one for good, I could be that person. If you want.”

His expression was affectionate but guarded. “I’ve met nearly every woman in this room, and I can’t think of one who would make a better friend. I’d be glad to have you stay.”

My relief was inexpressible.

“Do you think,” Maxon asked, “that I could still call you ‘my dear’?”

“Not a chance,” I whispered.

“I’ll keep trying. I don’t have it in me to give up.” And I believed him. It was annoying to think he’d press that issue.

“Did you call all of them that?” I nodded my head toward the rest of the room.

“Yes, and they all seemed to like it.”

“That is the exact reason why I don’t.” And I stood.

Maxon was chuckling as he rose with me. I would have scowled, but it actually was kind of funny. He bowed, I curtsied, and I went back to my seat.

I was so hungry that it felt like an eternity until he’d gone through the last rows. But finally the last girl was back in her seat, and I was eagerly anticipating my first breakfast at the palace.

Maxon walked to the center of the room. “If I have asked you to remain behind, please stay in your seats. If not, please proceed with Silvia here into the dining hall. I will join you shortly.”

Asked to stay? Was that a good thing?

I stood, as did most of the girls, and started walking. He must just want some special time with those girls. I saw that Ashley was one of them. No doubt she was special, a born princess by the looks of her. The rest were girls I hadn’t managed to meet. Not that they had wanted to meet me. The cameras lingered behind to capture whatever special moment was about to occur, and the rest of us moved on.

We walked into the banquet room and there, looking more majestic than even I could imagine, were King Clarkson and Queen Amberly. Also in the room, more camera crews swarmed to catch our first meeting. I hesitated, wondering if we should all go back to the door and be invited in. But most everyone else—if somewhat hesitantly—kept walking. I walked quickly to my chair, hoping I hadn’t drawn attention to myself.