The Elite Page 27

He smiled. “They’re at home, waiting.”

“For what?”

His eyes glittered. “That, I cannot say.”

I sighed through my smile. “Fine, keep your secrets. And don’t worry about not giving me anything. I’m just happy you’re here, that you and I can at least fix things, even if it’s not what it used to be.”

But clearly, for Aspen, that wasn’t enough. He reached down to the bottom of his sleeve and tore off one of his golden buttons. “I literally have nothing else to give you, but you can hold on to this—something I’ve touched—and think of me anytime. And you can know that I’m thinking of you, too.”

As silly as it seemed, I wanted to cry. It was unavoidable, the natural instinct to compare Aspen to Maxon. Even now, when thinking of choosing one or the other felt like something very distant, I measured them side by side.

It seemed very easy for Maxon to give me things—to resurrect a holiday for my sake, to make sure I had the best of everything—because he had the entire world at his disposal. Here Aspen was, giving me precious stolen moments and the tiniest trinket to connect us to each other, and it felt like he’d given me so much more.

I remembered suddenly that Aspen had always been this way. He sacrificed sleep for me, he risked getting caught out after curfew for me, he scrounged together pennies for me. Aspen’s generosity was harder to see because it wasn’t as grand as Maxon’s, but the heart behind what he gave was so much bigger.

I sniffed back the lingering urge to cry. “I don’t know how to do this right now. I feel like I don’t know how to do anything. I … I haven’t forgotten you, okay? It’s still here.”

I put my hand to my chest, partly to show Aspen what I meant and partly to soothe the strange longing there. He understood.

“That’s enough for me.”

CHAPTER 14

I SURREPTITIOUSLY WATCHED MAXON THE next morning at breakfast. I wondered how much he knew about the people losing their castes in the South. Only once did he glance my way, but he didn’t seem to be looking at me so much as at something near me.

Anytime I felt uncomfortable, I’d reach down and touch Aspen’s button, which I’d laced on a tiny ribbon and made into a bracelet. He would get me through my time here.

Toward the end of the meal, the king stood and we all turned to him. “As there are so few of you now, I thought it would be nice for us to have tea tomorrow night before the Report. Since one of you will be our new daughter-in-law, the queen and I would like to make more opportunities to speak with you, learn your interests and such.”

I felt a little nervous. Relating to the queen was one thing, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about the king. While the other girls watched him eagerly, I sipped my juice.

“Please come an hour before the Report to the lounge on the first floor. If you’re not familiar, don’t worry. The doors will be open, and there will be some music playing. You’ll hear us before you see us,” he said with a chuckle. The others giggled lightly in return.

Soon after, girls started making their way to the Women’s Room. I sighed. Sometimes that room, huge as it was, made me feel claustrophobic. I usually tried to interact with people or use the time to read. This would be a Celeste day. I was going to park myself in front of the television and zone out.

It was easier said than done. The girls seemed particularly chatty today.

“I wonder what the king wants to know about us,” Kriss gabbed.

“We just have to remember everything Silvia taught us about poise,” Elise commented.

“I hope my maids have a good dress for tomorrow night. I don’t want to have to go through what I did for Halloween. They’re so scatterbrained sometimes.” Celeste sounded put out.

“I wish the king would grow a beard,” Natalie said wistfully. I peeked over my shoulder to see her stroking an imaginary beard on her own chin. “I think he’d look good.”

“Yes, I can see that,” Kriss said graciously before moving on.

I shook my head and tried to focus on the ridiculous show in front of me, but no matter how I tried, I couldn’t tune out the words of the other girls.

By lunch I was a ball of nerves. What would he want to say to me—the girl from the lowest caste left in the competition? What would he want to discuss with the girl he expected so little from?

King Clarkson was right. I heard the floating melody from the piano long before I found the lounge. The musician was good. Better than me, that was for sure.

I hesitated before walking in. I decided to pause before I spoke, really think about my words. I realized I wanted to prove him wrong. I wanted to prove that reporter wrong, too. Even if I lost, I didn’t want to go home a loser. I was surprised by how much this suddenly meant to me.

I stepped through the doorway, and the first thing I saw was Maxon standing along the back wall of the room talking to Gavril Fadaye. Gavril was sipping wine as opposed to tea, and he’d suddenly lost Maxon’s attention. I saw Maxon’s eyes rake over me, and I could have sworn his lips made the shape of a Wow.

I turned my head and blushed, walking away. I took the risk of glancing at him again and saw that he was watching me move. It was hard to think rationally when he looked at me that way.

King Clarkson was talking to Natalie in one corner, and Queen Amberly was with Celeste in another. Elise was sipping her tea, and Kriss was walking around the room. I watched as she passed Maxon and Gavril, giving Gavril a warm smile. She said something, which they both chuckled at, and kept walking, peeking over her shoulder at Maxon once as she did so.

After that she made her way to me. “You’re late,” she jokingly scolded.

“I was feeling a little nervous.”

“Oh, it’s nothing to worry about. It was actually kind of fun.”

“You’re already done?” If the king was finished speaking with at least two girls, I’d have less time to compose myself than I thought.

“Yes. Sit with me. We can have some tea while you wait.”

Kriss pulled me over to a table, and a maid approached us immediately, setting tea, milk, and sugar in front of us.

“What did he ask you?” I pressed.

“Actually, it was very conversational. I don’t think he’s trying to get any information exactly, more like he’s trying to get a feeling for our personalities. I made him laugh once!” she gushed. “It went really well. And you’re naturally funny, so if you just talk like you would to anyone else, you’ll be fine.”

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