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The Heir
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Текст книги "The Heir "


Автор книги: Kiera Cass



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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

CHAPTER 3

I DECIDED TO TAKE DINNER in my room. I didn’t feel like seeing my family at the moment. I was irate with all of them. At my parents for being happy, at Ahren for not picking up the pace eighteen years ago, at Kaden and Osten for being so young.

Neena circled me, filling my cup as she spoke. “Do you think you’ll go through with it, miss?” she asked.

“I’m still trying to figure a way out.”

“What if you said you were already in love with somebody?”

I shook my head as I poked at my food. “I insulted my three most likely candidates right in front of them.”

She set a small plate of chocolates in the middle of the table, guessing correctly that I’d probably want those more than the caviar-garnished salmon.

“Perhaps a guard then? Happens to the maids often enough,” she suggested with a giggle.

I scoffed. “That’s fine for them, but I’m not that desperate.”

Her laughter faded.

I saw immediately that I had offended her, but that was the truth. I couldn’t settle for any old person, let alone a guard. Even considering it was a waste of time. I needed a way out of this whole situation.

“I don’t mean it like that, Neena. It’s just that people expect certain things from me.”

“Of course.”

“I’m done. You can go for the night; I’ll leave the cart in the hallway.”

She nodded and left without another word.

I grazed on the chocolates before completely giving up on the food and slipped into my nightgown. I couldn’t reason with Mom and Dad right now, and Neena didn’t understand. I needed to talk to the only person who might see my side, the person who sometimes felt like he was half of me. I needed Ahren.

“Are you busy?” I asked, cracking open his door.

Ahren was sitting at his desk, writing. His blond hair was end-of-the-day messy, but his eyes were far from tired, and he looked so much like the pictures of Dad when he was younger it was eerie. He was still dressed from dinner but had taken off his coat and tie, settling in for the evening. “Knock, for goodness’ sake.”

“I know, I know; but it’s an emergency.”

“Then get a guard,” he snapped back, returning to his papers.

“That’s already been suggested,” I muttered to myself. “I’m serious, Ahren; I need your help.”

Ahren peeked over his shoulder at me, and I could see he was already planning to give in. He used his foot to push out the seat next to him casually. “Step into my office.”

Sitting, I sighed. “What are you writing?”

He quickly piled papers on top of the one he’d been working on. “A letter to Camille.”

“You know you could simply phone her.”

He grinned. “Oh, I will. But then I’ll send her this, too.”

“That makes no sense. What could you possibly have to talk about that would fill an entire phone call and a letter?”

He tilted his head. “For your information, they serve different purposes. The calls are for updates and to see how her day went. The letters are for the things I can’t always say out loud.”

“Oh, really?” I leaned over, reaching for the paper.

Before I could even get close, Ahren’s hand gripped my wrist. “I will murder you,” he vowed.

“Good,” I shot. “Then you can be the heir, and you can go through a Selection and kiss your precious Camille good-bye.”

He scrunched his forehead. “What?”

I slumped back into my chair. “Mom and Dad need to boost morale. They’ve decided that, for the sake of Illéa,” I said in mock patriotism, “I need to go through a Selection.”

I was expecting abject horror. Perhaps a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. But Ahren threw back his head and laughed.

“Ahren!”

He continued to howl, pitching himself forward and hitting his knee.

“You’re going to wrinkle your suit,” I warned, which only made him laugh harder. “For goodness’ sake, stop it! What am I supposed to do?”

“As if I know! I can’t believe they think this would even work,” he added, his smile still not fading.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I thought, if you ever did get married, it’d be down the line. I think everyone assumed that.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

The warm touch I’d been hoping for finally came as he reached for my hand. “Come on, Eady. You’ve always been independent. It’s the queen in you. You like to be in charge, do things on your own. I didn’t think you’d partner up with anyone until you at least got to reign for a while.”

“Not like I really had a choice in the first place,” I mumbled, tilting my head to the floor but still looking to my brother.

He gave me a little pout. “Poor little princess. Don’t want to rule the world?”

I swatted his hand away. “Seven minutes. It should have been you. I’d much rather sit alone and scribble away instead of do all that stupid paperwork. And this ridiculous Selection nonsense! Can’t you see how dreadful this is?”

“How did you get roped into this anyway? I thought they’d done away with it.”

I rolled my eyes again. “It has absolutely nothing to do with me. That’s the worst part. Dad’s facing public opposition, so he’s trying to distract them.” I shook my head. “It’s getting really bad, Ahren. People are destroying homes and businesses. Some have died. Dad isn’t completely sure where it’s coming from, but he thinks it’s people our age, the generation that grew up without castes, causing most of it.”

He made a face. “That doesn’t make sense. How could growing up without those restrictions make you upset?”

I paused, thinking. How could I explain what we could only really guess at? “Well, I grew up being told I was going to be queen one day. That was it. No choice. You grew up knowing you had options. You could go into the military, you could become an ambassador, you could do plenty of things. But what if that wasn’t really happening? What if you didn’t have all the opportunities you thought you would?”

“Huh,” he said, following. “So they’re being denied jobs?”

“Jobs, education, money. I’ve heard of people refusing to let their kids get married because of old castes. Nothing is happening the way Dad thought it would, and it’s nearly impossible to control. Can we force people to be fair?”

“And that’s what Dad’s trying to figure out now?” he asked, skeptical.

“Yes, and I’m the smoke-and-mirror act diverting their attention while he comes up with a plan.”

He chuckled. “That makes much more sense than you suddenly being romantically inclined.”

I cocked my head. “Let it go, Ahren. So I’m not interested in marriage. Why does that matter? Other women can stay single.”

“But other women aren’t expected to produce an heir.”

I hit him again. “Help me! What do I do?”

His eyes searched mine, and I knew, as easily as I could read any emotion in him, that he saw I was terrified. Not irritated or angry. Not outraged or repulsed.

I was scared.

It was one thing to be expected to rule, to hold the weight of millions of people in my hands. That was a job, a task. I could check things off lists, delegate. But this was much more personal, one more piece of my life that ought to be mine but wasn’t.

His playful smile disappeared, and he pulled his chair closer to mine. “If they’re looking to distract people, maybe you could suggest other . . . opportunities. A possible marriage isn’t the only choice. That said, if Mom and Dad came to this conclusion, they might have already exhausted every other option.”

I buried my head in my hands. I didn’t want to tell him I tried to offer up him as an alternative or that I thought Kaden might even be acceptable. I sensed he was right, that the Selection was their last hope.

“Here’s the thing, Eady. You’ll be the first girl to hold the throne fully in her own right. And people expect a lot from you.”

“Like I don’t already know that.”

“But,” he continued, “that also gives you a lot of bargaining power.”

I raised my head marginally. “What do you mean?”

“If they really need you to do this, then negotiate.”

I sat up straight, my mind running around in circles, trying to think of what I could ask for. There might be a way to get through this quickly, without it even ending in a proposal.

Without a proposal!

If I spoke fast enough, I could probably get Dad to agree to practically anything so long as he got his Selection out of it.

“Negotiate!” I whispered.

“Exactly.”

I stood up, grabbed Ahren by his ears, and planted a kiss on his forehead. “You are my absolute hero!”

He smiled. “Anything for you, my queen.”

I giggled, shoving him. “Thanks, Ahren.”

“Get to work.” He waved me toward the door, and I suspected he was actually more eager to get back to his letter than he was for me to come up with a plan.

I dashed from the room, heading to my own to fetch some paper. I needed to think.

As I rounded the corner, I ran smack into someone, falling backward onto the carpet.

“Ow!” I complained, looking up to see Kile Woodwork, Miss Marlee’s son.

Kile and the rest of the Woodworks had rooms on the same floor as our family, a singularly huge honor. Or irritation, depending on how one felt about the Woodworks.

“Do you mind?” I snapped.

“I wasn’t the one running,” he answered, picking up the books he’d dropped. “You ought to be looking where you’re going.”

“A gentleman would offer his hand right now,” I reminded him.

Kile’s hair flopped across his eyes as he looked over at me. He was in desperate need of a cut and a shave, and his shirt was too big for him. I didn’t know who I was more embarrassed for: him for looking so sloppy or my family for having to be seen with such a disaster.

What was especially irritating was that he wasn’t always so scruffy, and he didn’t have to be now. How hard would it be to run a brush through his hair?

“Eadlyn, you’ve never thought I was a gentleman.”

“True.” I pulled myself up without help and brushed off my robe.

For the last six months I had been spared Kile’s less-than-thrilling company. He’d gone to Fennley to enroll in some accelerated course, and his mother had been lamenting his absence ever since the day he left. I didn’t know what he was studying, and I didn’t particularly care. But he was back now, and his presence was another stressor on an ever-growing list.

“And what would make such a lady run like that in the first place?”

“Matters you are far too dim to comprehend.”

He laughed. “Right, because I’m such a simpleton. It’s a miracle I manage to bathe myself.”

I was about to ask if he did bathe, because he looked like he’d been running away from anything that resembled a bar of soap.

“I hope one of those books is a primer on etiquette. You seriously need a refresher.”

“You’re not queen yet, Eadlyn. Take it down a notch.” He walked away, and I was furious with myself for not getting the last word.

I pressed on. There were bigger problems in my life right now than the state of Kile’s manners. I couldn’t waste my time quibbling with people or being distracted by anything that couldn’t put the Selection to death.


CHAPTER 4

“I WANT TO BE CLEAR,” I said, sitting down in Dad’s office. “I have no desire to get married.”

He nodded. “I understand that you don’t want to get married today, but it was always something you’d have to do, Eadlyn. You’re obligated to continue the royal line.”

I hated it when he talked about my future like that, like sex and love and babies weren’t happy things but duties performed to keep the country running. It took every speck of joy out of the prospect.

Of all the things in my life, shouldn’t those be the real pleasures, the best parts?

I shook the worry away and focused on the task at hand.

“I understand. And I agree that it’s important,” I replied diplomatically. “But weren’t you ever worried when you went through your Selection that no one in the pool was right for you? Or that maybe they were there for the wrong reason?”

His lips hitched up in a smile. “Every waking moment, and half the time I slept.”

He’d told me a handful of vague stories about one girl who’d been so pliable he could hardly stand her and another who had tried to manipulate the process at every turn. I didn’t know many names or details, and that was fine with me. I had never liked to imagine Dad possibly falling in love with anyone but Mom.

“And don’t you think that as the first woman to fully control the crown, there should be . . . some standards set for who might rule beside me?”

He tilted his head. “Go on.”

“I’m sure there’s some sort of vetting process in place to make sure an actual psychopath doesn’t make his way into the palace, yes?”

“Of course.” He grinned as if this wasn’t a valid concern.

“But I don’t trust just anyone to do this job with me. So”—I sighed deeply—“I will agree to go through with this ridiculous stunt if you make me a few tiny promises.”

“It’s not a stunt. It’s had an excellent track record. But please, dear girl, tell me what you want.”

“First, I want the contestants to have the freedom to leave of their own free will. I won’t have someone feeling obligated to stay if they don’t care for me or the life they’d have to lead in the palace.”

“I fully agree to that,” he said forcefully. Seemed like I had touched a nerve.

“Excellent. And I know you might be opposed to the idea, but if by the end of this I can’t find anyone suitable, then we call the whole thing off. No prince, no wedding.”

“Ah!” he said, leaning forward in his chair and pointing a calculating finger at me. “If I allow that, you’ll turn them all away the first day. You won’t even try!”

I paused, thinking. “What if I guaranteed you a timeline? I would keep the Selection running for, say, three months and weigh my options for at least that amount of time. After then, if I haven’t found a suitable match, all the contestants are released.”

He ran his hand across his mouth and shifted in his chair a little before pressing his eyes into mine. “Eadlyn, you know how important this is, don’t you?”

“Of course,” I replied instantly, very aware of how serious this was. I sensed one wrong move would set my life on a course I could never correct.

“You need to do this and do it well. For everyone’s sake. Our lives, all of them, are given over in service to our people.”

I looked away. If anything, it felt like Mom, Dad, and I were the trinity of sacrifice here, with the others doing as they pleased.

“I won’t let you down,” I promised. “You do what you must. Make your plans, find a way to appease our public, and I will give you an acceptable window of time to pull it all together.”

His eyes darted toward the ceiling in thought. “Three months? And you swear you’ll try?”

I held up my hand. “I give you my word. I’ll even sign something if you like, but I can’t promise you I’ll fall in love.”

“Wouldn’t be so sure if I was you,” he said knowingly. But I wasn’t him, and I wasn’t Mom. No matter how romantic he thought this was, all I could think of were the thirty-five loud, obnoxious, weird-smelling boys who were about to invade my home. Nothing about that sounded magical.

“It’s a deal.”

I stood, practically ready to dance. “Really?”

“Really.”

I took his hand and sealed my future with a single shake. “Thank you, Dad.”

I left the room before he could see how big my smile was. I had already been running through how I could get most of the boys to leave of their own volition. I could be intimidating when I needed to be or find ways to make the palace a very unwelcoming environment. I also had a secret weapon in Osten, who was the most mischievous of us all and would help me if I asked him to, probably with minimal persuasion.

I admired the thought of a common boy feeling brave enough to face the challenge of becoming a prince. But no one was going to tie me down before I was ready, and I was going to make sure those poor suckers knew what they were signing up for.

They kept the studio cold, but once the lights came on, we might as well have been in an oven for all the good it did. I’d learned years ago to keep my clothing choices for the Report airy, which was why my dress tonight fell off my shoulders. My look was classy, as always, but not something that would subject me to a heatstroke.

“That’s the perfect dress,” Mom commented, pulling at the little ruffles on the sleeves. “You look lovely.”

“Thank you. So do you.”

She smiled as she continued to straighten my dress. “Thank you, sweetheart. I know you’re feeling a little overwhelmed, but I think a Selection will be good for everyone. You’re alone a lot, and it’s something we would have to think about eventually, and—”

“And it will make the people happy. I know.”

I tried to hide the misery in my voice. We had technically moved past selling off the royal daughters, but . . . this didn’t feel that different. Didn’t she get that?

Her eyes moved from the gown to my face. Something in them told me she was sorry.

“I know you feel like this is a sacrifice; and it’s true that when you live a life of service, there are many things you do, not because you want to, but because you must.” She swallowed. “But through this I found your father, and I found my closest friends, and I learned that I was stronger than I ever thought I could be. I know about the agreement you made with your dad, and if this ends without you finding the right person, so be it. But please, let yourself experience something here. Sharpen yourself, learn something. And try not to hate us for asking you to do it.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“You at least considered it when we proposed this,” she said with a grin. “Didn’t you?”

“I’m eighteen. I’m genetically encoded to fight with my parents.”

“I don’t mind a good fight so long as you still know how much I love you in the end.”

I reached to hug her. “And I love you. Promise.”

She held me for a moment, then pulled away, smoothing my dress to make sure I was still immaculate before she went to find Dad. I walked to take my seat next to Ahren, who wiggled his eyebrows at me teasingly. “Looking good, sis. Practically bridal.”

I swung my skirt and sat down gracefully. “One more word and I will shave your head in your sleep.”

“I love you, too.”

I tried not to smile but failed. He just always knew.

The room filled with the palace household. Miss Lucy sat alone, as General Leger was on rounds, and Mr. and Mrs. Woodwork sat behind the cameras with Kile and Josie. They were the Woodworks’ only children, and I knew Miss Marlee meant the world to Mom, so I kept it to myself that I thought her kids were the absolute worst. Kile wasn’t as obnoxious as Josie, but, in all the years I’d known him, he’d never made anything remotely close to an interesting conversation. So help me, if I ever got a bad case of insomnia, I’d hire him to sit in my room and talk. Problem solved. And Josie . . . I didn’t have words for how wretched that girl was.

Dad’s advisers filed in, bowing as they came. There was only one woman in Dad’s cabinet, Lady Brice Mannor. She was lovely and petite, and I was never sure how someone so demure managed to stay afloat in the political arena. I’d never heard her raise her voice or get angry, but people listened to her. The men didn’t listen to me unless I was stern.

Her presence made me curious though. What would happen if I, as queen, made my entire board of counselors women?

That might be an interesting experiment.

The chairmen and advisers delivered their announcements and updates, and finally, Gavril turned to me.

Gavril Fadaye had slicked-back silver hair but a very handsome face. He’d been talking recently about retirement, but after an announcement this big, he’d have to stick around a bit longer.

“Tonight, Illéa, to conclude our program, we have some very exciting news. And there is no one better to deliver it than our future queen, the beautiful Eadlyn Schreave.”

He swept his hand grandly in my direction, and I smiled widely as I walked across the carpeted stage to polite applause.

Gavril gave me a quick embrace and a kiss on each cheek. “Princess Eadlyn, welcome.”

“Thanks, Gavril.”

“Now, I have to be honest. It feels like only yesterday I was announcing the birth of you and your brother Ahren. I can’t believe it’s been more than eighteen years!”

“It’s true. We’re all grown up.” I looked toward my family, sharing a warm gaze.

“You’re on the edge of making history. I think all of Illéa is eager to see what you’ll do a few years down the road when you become queen.”

“That’ll certainly be an exciting time, but I’m not sure I want to wait that long to make history.” I gave him a playful nudge with my elbow, and he mocked surprise.

“Why don’t you tell us what you have in mind, Your Highness?”

I squared my shoulders in front of camera C and smiled. “Our great country has gone through many changes over the years. In my parents’ lifetimes alone we’ve seen the rebel forces within our country practically run into extinction, and though we still face challenges, the caste system no longer divides our people along imaginary lines. We live in an era of extraordinary freedom, and we wait with anticipation to see our nation become everything it possibly can.”

I remembered to smile and speak articulately. Years of lessons on how to address an audience had drilled the proper technique into me, and I knew I was hitting every last point I was meant to as I delivered my announcement.

“And that’s great . . . but I’m still an eighteen-year-old girl.” The small audience of guests and advisers giggled. “It gets a little boring when you spend the majority of the day in an office with your dad. No offense, Your Majesty,” I added, turning to Dad.

“None taken,” he called back.

“And so I’ve decided it’s time for a change of pace. It’s time to search, not just for someone to be a coworker with me in this very demanding job, but for a partner to walk with me through life. To do that, I’m hoping Illéa will indulge my deepest wish: to have a Selection.”

The advisers gasped and muttered. I saw the shocked faces of the staff. It became clear that the only person who was already in on this was Gavril, which surprised me.

“Tomorrow, letters will be sent to all the eligible young men in Illéa. You’ll have two weeks to decide whether you would like to compete for my hand. I realize, of course, that this is uncharted territory. We’ve never had a female-run Selection before. Still, even though I have three brothers, I’m very excited to meet another prince of Illéa. And I’m hoping that all of Illéa will celebrate with me.”

I gave a small curtsy and retreated to my seat. Mom and Dad were beaming proudly at me, and I tried to tell myself that their reaction was enough, though I felt like my blood was trembling in my veins. I couldn’t help but think I’d missed something, that there was a gaping hole in the net I’d set up to catch myself.

But there was nothing I could do. I’d just thrown myself off the ledge.


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