The Selection Part 8

"Thanks," I said, looking down at my new clothes. "I don't typically wear a lot of dresses, so this is going to take a little getting used to."

"That's right," my interviewer said. "You're one of only three Fives in the Selection. How has this experience been so far?"

I searched my head for something that would describe how everything had felt today. From my disappointment in the square to the sensation of flying to the comfort of Marlee.

"Surprising," I said.

"I imagine there will be more surprising days to come," she commented.

"I hope they're at least a little calmer than today," I said with a sigh.

"How do you feel about your compet.i.tion so far?"

I swallowed. "The girls are all really nice." With one glaring exception.

"Mm-hmm," she said, seeing through my answer. "So how do you feel about the way your makeover turned out? Worried about anyone else's look?"

I considered that. To say no sounded snotty, to say yes sounded needy. "I think the staff has done a great job bringing out each girl's individual beauty."

She smiled and said, "All right, I think that'll be enough."

"That's all?"

"We have to fit thirty-five of you into an hour and a half, so that will be plenty."

"Okay." That wasn't so bad.

"Thank you for your time. You can head over to that couch over there, and you'll be taken care of."

I stood and went to sit on the large circular couch in the corner. Two girls I had yet to meet were sitting there, talking quietly. I looked around the room and saw someone announcing that the last batch was heading in. A new flurry began around the stations. I was focused on it and almost didn't notice Marlee sit down beside me.

"Marlee! Look at your hair!"

"I know. They put extensions in it. Do you think Maxon will like it?" She looked genuinely worried.

"Of course! What guy doesn't like a gorgeous blonde?" I said with a playful smile.

"America, you're so nice. All those people at the airport loved you."

"Oh, I was just being friendly. You met people, too," I countered.

"Yeah, but not half as many as you."

I lowered my head, a little embarra.s.sed for being complimented over something that seemed so obvious. When I looked up, I turned to the other two girls sitting with us. Emmica Bra.s.s and Samantha Lowell and I hadn't been introduced, but I knew who they were. I did a double take. They were looking at me funny. Before I had time to guess why, Silvia, the woman from earlier, approached us.

"All right, girls, are we all ready?" She checked her watch and looked at us expectantly. "I'm going to give you a quick tour and take you to your a.s.signed rooms."

Marlee clapped her hands, and the four of us rose to leave. Silvia told us the s.p.a.ce we were currently using to get pampered was the Women's Room. Usually the queen, her maids, and the handful of other female family members entertained themselves there.

"Get used to that room-you'll be spending a lot of time there. Now, on your way in you pa.s.sed the Great Room, which is generally used for parties and banquets. If there were too many more of you ladies here, that's where you'd be taking your meals. But the regular dining room is large enough to meet your needs. Let's take a quick step in there."

We were shown where the royal family ate, at a table alone. We would be seated at long tables to either side, so the setup looked like a very stiff U. Our places were currently a.s.signed, set with elegant place markers. I would be sitting next to Ashley and Tiny Lee, who I'd seen go through the Women's Room earlier, and across from Kriss Ambers.

We left the dining hall and continued on down a set of stairs and saw the room used to broadcast the Illea Capital Report. Back upstairs our guide pointed down a hall where the king and Maxon spent most of their time working. That area was off-limits to us.

"Another thing that is off-limits: the third floor. The royal family has their private rooms up there, and any sort of intrusion will not be tolerated. Your rooms are all located on the second floor. You will inhabit a large portion of the guest rooms. Not to worry, though; we still have room for any visitors coming through.

"These doors here go out to the back garden. h.e.l.lo, Hector, Markson." The two guards at the doors gave her a quick nod. It took me a moment to recognize that the large archway to our right was the side door to the Great Room, meaning the Women's Room was just around the corner. I was proud of myself for figuring that out. The palace was kind of like an opulent maze.

"You are not to go outside under any circ.u.mstances," Silvia continued. "During the day, there will be times when you can go into the garden, but not without permission. This is merely a safety restriction. Try as we may, rebels have gotten within the grounds before."

A chill went down my body.

We rounded a corner and walked up the ma.s.sive stairs to the second floor. The carpets felt so lush under my shoes, like I was sinking an inch every time I took a step. High windows let in light, and it smelled like flowers and suns.h.i.+ne. Large paintings hung on the walls, depicting the kings of the past and a few renderings of old American and Canadian leaders. At least, that's what I guessed they were. They didn't wear any crowns.

"Your things are already in your rooms. If the decor is unsuitable, just tell your maids. You each have three, and they are already in your rooms, too. They will help with any unpacking you might have and will help you get dressed for dinner.

"Before dinner tonight, you will meet in the Women's Room for a special screening of the Illea Capital Report. Next week, you'll all be on the show yourselves! Tonight you'll get to see some of the footage they've taken of you leaving your homes and arriving here. It promises to be very special. You should know that Prince Maxon hasn't seen anything yet today. He'll see what all of Illea will see tonight, and then you will officially meet him tomorrow.

"You girls will all be having dinner as a group, so you will be able to meet one another, and then, tomorrow, the games begin!"

I gulped. Too many rules, too much structure, too many people. I just wanted to be alone with a violin.

We moved across the second floor, dropping off Selected girls at their rooms. Mine was tucked around a corner in a little hallway with Bariel, Tiny, and Jenna. I was glad it wasn't quite in the middle of things, like Marlee's room was. Maybe I'd have a little privacy like this.

Once Silvia left, I opened my door to the excited gasps of three women. One was sewing in a corner, and the others were cleaning an already perfect room. They scurried over and introduced themselves as Lucy, Anne, and Mary, but I forgot which was which almost immediately. It took quite a bit of convincing to get them to leave. I didn't want to be rude since they were so eager to serve, but I needed time alone.

"I just need a little nap. I'm sure you've had a long day, too, getting ready and all. The best thing you could do is let me rest, get some rest yourselves, and please come wake me up when it's time to go downstairs."

There was a flurry of thanks and bows, which I tried to discourage, and then I was alone. It didn't help. I tried to stretch out on my bed, but every part of my body pulled tight, refusing to let me get comfortable in a place that was so obviously not meant for me.

There was a violin in the corner, as well as a guitar and a gorgeous piano, but I couldn't bring myself to bother with them. My backpack was securely fastened, waiting at the foot of my bed, but that felt like too much work, too. I knew they'd set special things for me in my closet and drawers and bathroom, but I didn't feel like exploring.

I just lay there, still. It felt like only a few moments before my maids quietly tapped on my door. I let them in and, as strange as it was, let them dress me. They were just so excited to be helpful, I couldn't ask them to leave again.

They pulled parts of my hair back with delicate pins and freshened my makeup. The dress-which, along with the rest of my wardrobe, had been created by their hands-was deep green and floor length. Without those tiny heels again I'd stumble all over it. Silvia knocked on my door promptly at six to take me and my three neighbors down the hall. We waited in the foyer by the stairway for everyone to come and then marched down to the Women's Room. Marlee spotted me, and we walked together.

The sound of thirty-five pairs of heels on the marble stairs was the music of some elegant stampede. There were a few murmurs, but most girls were silent. I noticed as we pa.s.sed the dining room that the doors were closed. Was the royal family in there now? Perhaps taking in one last meal as the three of them?

It seemed strange that we were their guests but hadn't met a single one of them yet.

The Women's Room had changed since we left. The mirrors and racks were all gone, and tables and chairs dotted the floor along with some very comfortable-looking couches. Marlee looked at me and inclined her head toward one of the couches, and we sat there together.

Once we were all settled the TV was turned on, and we watched the Report. There were the same announcements as ever-budget updates for projects, progress of the war, and another rebel attack in the East-and then the last half hour was Gavril making commentary over footage of our day.

"Here Miss Celeste Newsome says good-bye to her many admirers in Clermont. It took this lovely young lady more than an hour to break away from her fans."

I saw Celeste smile smugly as she watched herself onscreen. She was sitting next to Bariel Pratt, who had hair straight as a bone and so pale blond it looked white as it fell to her waist. There was no mild way to put it: Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were huge. They crept out of her strapless dress, tempting anyone to try and ignore them.

Bariel was beautiful, but in a typical way. It was similar to Celeste's style. I wasn't sure exactly how, but the image of them side by side prompted the thought, Keep your enemies closer. I think they'd singled each other out right away as the other's strongest compet.i.tion.

"The others from the Mideast were just as popular. Ashley Brouillette's quiet, refined demeanor sets her apart immediately as a lady. As she carries herself through the crowd, she wears a humble, beautiful expression not too different from the face of the queen herself."

"And Marlee Tames of Kent was all bubbles as she departed today, singing the national anthem with her send-off band." Pictures of Marlee smiling and embracing people from her home province flashed across the screen. "She's an immediate favorite of several people we interviewed today."

Marlee reached over and squeezed my hand. That settled it; I was pulling for Marlee.

"Also traveling with Miss Tames was America Singer, one of only three Fives who made it into the Selection." They made me look better than I felt in the moment. All I remembered was searching the crowds, sad. But the footage they chose of me searching made me appear mature and caring. The image of me hugging my father was touching, beautiful.

Still, it was nothing compared to the images of me in the airport. "But we know castes mean nothing in the Selection, and it seems Lady America is not to be overlooked. Upon landing in Angeles, Lady Singer was the crowd darling at the airport, stopping to take pictures, sign autographs, and simply speak to anyone there. Miss America Singer is not afraid to get her hands dirty, a quality that many believe our next princess needs."

Nearly everyone turned to look at me. I could see it in their eyes, the same look I'd gotten from Emmica and Samantha. Suddenly those stares made sense. My intentions didn't matter. They didn't know I didn't want this. In their eyes, I was a threat. And I could see they wanted me gone.

CHAPTER 10.

I KEPT MY HEAD DOWN at dinner. In the Women's Room I could be brave because Marlee was beside me, and she just thought I was nice. But here, sandwiched between people whose hate I could feel radiating off in waves, I was a coward. I looked up from my plate once to see Kriss Ambers twirling her fork menacingly. And Ashley, who was so ladylike, had her lips pouted and didn't speak to me. I just wanted to escape to my room.

I didn't understand why it was all so important. So the people seemed to like me, so what? They were outranked in here; their little signs and cheers didn't matter.

After everything was said and done, I didn't know whether to feel honored or annoyed.

I focused my energies on the food. The last time I'd had steak was for Christmas a few years ago. I knew Mom did her best, but it was nothing like this. So juicy, so tender, so flavorful. I wanted to ask someone else if this wasn't the best steak they'd ever had. If Marlee had been nearby, I would have. I took a tentative peek around the room. Marlee was chattering quietly with the people around her.

How did she manage to do that? Hadn't that same clip declared her one of the immediate favorites? How did she get people to talk to her?

Dessert was an a.s.sortment of fruits in vanilla ice cream. It was like I'd never eaten before. If this was food, what had I been putting in my mouth up to this point? I thought of May and her equal love for all things sweet. She would have loved this. I bet she would have excelled here.

We weren't allowed to leave dinner until everyone had finished, and after that we were under strict orders to go straight to bed.

"You'll be meeting Prince Maxon in the morning, and you'll want to look your best," Silvia instructed. "He is someone in this room's future husband, after all."

A few girls sighed at the thought.

The click and clack of shoes up the stairs was quieter this time around. I couldn't wait to get out of mine. Out of the dress, too. I had one set of clothes from home in my backpack and was debating putting them on just to feel like myself for a moment.

We dispersed at the top of the stairs, each girl heading off to her own room. Marlee pulled me aside.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yes. It's just that some of the girls were looking at me funny during dinner." I tried not to come across as whiny.

"They're just a little nervous because everyone liked you so much," she said, waving off their behavior.

"But the people liked you, too. I saw the signs. Why weren't the girls being mean to you?"

"You haven't spent a whole lot of time with groups of girls, have you?" She was smiling slyly, like I should know what was happening.

"No. Just my sisters mostly," I confessed.

"Homeschooled?"

"Yes."

"Well, I get tutored with a bunch of other Fours back home, all girls, and they each have their ways of getting under other people's skin. See, it's all about knowing the person, figuring out what will bug them the most. Lots of girls give me backhanded compliments, or little remarks, things like that. I know I come across as bubbly, but I'm shy underneath that, and they think they can wear me down with words."

I scrunched my forehead. They did that on purpose?

"For you, someone kind of quiet and mysterious-"

"I'm not mysterious," I interrupted.

"You are a little. And sometimes people don't know whether to interpret silence as confidence or fear. They're looking at you like you're a bug so maybe you'll feel like you are one."

"Huh." That kind of made sense. I wondered what I was doing, if I was picking away at others' insecurities somehow. "What do you do? When you want to get the best of them, I mean?"

She smiled. "I ignore it. I know one girl at home who gets so irritated when she can't bother you, she just ends up sulking. So don't worry," she said. "All you have to do is not let them know they're getting to you."

"They're not."

"I almost believe you ... but not quite." She laughed a little, a warm sound that evaporated in the quiet hallway. "Can you believe we meet him in the morning?" she asked, moving on to more important things in her eyes.

"No, actually, I can't." Maxon seemed like a ghost haunting the palace-implied but never really there.

"Well, good luck tomorrow." And I could tell she meant it.

"Better luck to you, Marlee. I'm sure Prince Maxon will be more than pleased to meet you." I squeezed her hand one time.

She smiled in a way that was both excited and timid and walked off to her room.

When I got to mine, Bariel's door was still open, and I heard her muttering something to a maid. She caught sight of me and slammed the door in my face.

Thanks for that.

My maids were there, of course, waiting to help me wash and undress. My nightgown, a flimsy little green thing, had been laid out for me on the bed. Kindly, none of them had touched my bag.

They were efficient but purposeful. They obviously had this end-of-the-day routine down, but they didn't rush through it. I suppose the effect was meant to be soothing, but I was ready to have them gone. I couldn't speed them up as they washed my hands and unlaced my dress and pinned my silver name tag to my silken nightgown. And as they did all these things that made me incredibly self-conscious, they asked questions. I tried to answer them without being rude.

Yes, I'd finally seen all the other girls. No, they weren't very talkative. Yes, dinner was fantastic. No, I wouldn't meet the prince until tomorrow. Yes, I was very tired.

"And it would really help me wind down if I could have some time alone," I added to the end of that last answer, hoping they would take the hint.