The Crown (The Selection #5)(47)

“I could have—”

“No, you couldn’t. And that’s the problem. You can’t do this job alone. It’s nearly impossible, which is why you getting married is a wonderful idea. Only you’re looking in the wrong place.”

I was too stunned to speak.

“And, let’s be honest: if any of those boys were that excited about you, wouldn’t they be swarming around you this very second? From the outside looking in, they’re all indifferent.”

My shock turned to anguish. I looked around the room. He was right. None of the Elite seemed remotely aware of my presence.

“In the meantime, if you unite with me, the Illéa-Schreave line will be completely secure. No one would dare question your right to rule if you were my wife.”

The room swayed a little, and I fought to keep myself together as he went on. “And you can check the figures if you like, but as far as public opinion goes, my approval rating is twice what yours is. I could elevate you from tolerated to adored overnight.”

“Marid,” I said, hating that my voice sounded so weak. “This isn’t possible.”

“But it is. And either you can end this Selection on your own, or I can drop rumors about us to the point that no one takes it seriously anyway. By the time I’m done, you will look more heartless than they already think you are.”

I straightened my back. “I will ruin you,” I vowed.

“Try it. See how fast they turn on you.” He kissed my cheek. “You have my number.”

Marid walked away, casually shaking hands with those he passed as if he was already a member of the royal family. While all eyes seemed to follow him, I quietly ducked out of the room.

I was a fool. I’d thought that Hale cared about me, that Ean was here to support me, and I couldn’t have been more mistaken. I’d been wrong to trust Burke and Jack and Baden. I’d been positive Marid was here to help me, and he’d only been trying to set himself on the throne. My instincts were wrong at every turn, and suddenly it seemed as though the people around me were nothing but fakes.

Was I mistaken about anyone else? Was I wrong to trust Neena or Lady Brice? Was Kile not the friend I thought he was? Could I trust what I felt or thought about anyone?

I leaned against the wall, on the verge of tears. I was the queen. No one was as powerful as me. And yet I’d never felt more helpless.

Another figure came out of the doorway, and before I could duck farther out of sight, Erik’s face came into view.

“Your Majesty, I’m sorry. I was just escaping the crowds. It was a little too much for me in there.”

I didn’t answer.

“Seems to have been a bit too much for you as well,” he added cautiously.

I stared at the floor.

“Your Majesty?” He moved closer, whispering, “Can I help you?”

I stared into those wildly blue eyes and abandoned all the worries in my head. My heart said, Run. So I grabbed his hand and did just that.

I tore down the hallway, looking back once to make sure no one was following.

As I hoped, the Women’s Room was empty. Leaving the lights off, I pulled us closer to the window, so at least I’d have the moon to help me see.

“At the risk of making an even bigger fool out of myself than I already have, can you please answer something for me? And you absolutely must be honest here. I give you permission to hurt my feelings. I have to know.”

After a long moment he nodded, though his expression told me he was terrified of what might come.

“Is there a chance that you feel for me the way I feel for you? If you’ve felt even a fraction of this riot that’s been happening in my heart, I need to know.”

Erik let out a breath, seeming stunned and sad at once. “Your Majesty, I—”

“No!” I said, ripping the crown off my head and flinging it across the room. “Not Majesty. Eadlyn. I’m just Eadlyn.”

He smiled. “You are always just Eadlyn. And you are always the queen. You are everything to everyone. And infinitely more to me.”

I placed a hand on his chest and could feel his heart pounding in time with mine. He suddenly seemed aware of how desperate I was and wordlessly cupped my cheek in his palm and leaned down to kiss me.

Every moment we’d ever had together danced through my head. His awkward stance the day we first met, and how I scolded him before the parade for biting his nails. The way he protected me when the fight broke out in the kitchen, and how my eyes flitted to him over and over when the boys were deep in prayer outside the hospital wing. And, most astonishingly, the moment in the Women’s Room when Camille asked who filled my head, and how hard I fought to stop myself from saying his name out loud then and there.

All of it, every magical, forbidden second burned through me as we continued our dangerously treasonous kiss. When we finally broke apart, I was in tears, positive that Ahren leaving and the fear of losing my mother had been painless in comparison to this.

He shook his head, still holding on to me. “Of course the one time I let myself fall in love, it’s with someone in another stratosphere.”

I dug my fingers into his shirt, his vest, so angry that I couldn’t hold on to it forever. “This will be the first time in my life I haven’t been able to have something I truly wanted. It’s so cruel that it happens to be you.”