The Crown (The Selection #5)(7)

“Your Highness,” he said. “I’m sorry to come unannounced, but as soon as we heard about your mother, we felt we had to do something. So …”

He held out the basket toward me. It was full of gifts. Flowers, thin books, jars of soup with ribbons around the lids, and even a few bakery items that looked so good it was hard not to take one for myself.

“Marid,” I said, a greeting, a question, and an admonition all at once. “This is above and beyond, all things considered.”

He shrugged. “Disagreements don’t mean a loss of compassion. Our queen is sick, and this was the least we could do.”

I smiled, moved by his sudden appearance. I motioned to a guard.

“Take this to the hospital wing, please.”

He took the gift basket, and I turned my focus back to Marid.

“Your parents didn’t want to come?”

He shoved his hands into his pockets and grimaced. “They were afraid the visit would seem more political than personal.”

I nodded. “Understandable. But please tell them not to worry about that in the future. They’re still welcome here.”

Marid sighed. “They didn’t think so, not after their … exit.”

I pressed my lips together, remembering it all so clearly.

August Illéa and my father had worked together closely after my grandparents died, trying to dissolve the castes as quickly as they could. When August complained that change wasn’t happening fast enough, Dad pulled rank and told him to respect his plan. When Dad couldn’t quite erase the stigma of being in the lower castes, August said he needed to get his “spoiled ass” out of the palace and into the streets. Dad had always been a patient man, and, from what I remembered of August, he was always on edge. In the end there was a big fight, and August and Georgia packed their things, including their bashful son, and left in a hurricane of hurt and anger.

I’d heard Marid’s voice once or twice on the radio since then, giving political commentary or business advice, but it was strange now, having that voice sync up to the movements of his lips and seeing him smile so easily when I mostly remembered him slouched over himself when he was younger.

“Honestly, I don’t understand why our fathers haven’t spoken recently. You’ve certainly seen the issues with the post-caste discrimination we’ve been trying to quell. I thought one of them might break and seek out the other. It’s past being a point of pride anymore.”

Marid extended an arm. “Perhaps we could walk and talk?”

I linked my arm through his, and we began moving down the hall.

“How is it going so far?”

I shrugged. “As best it can under the circumstances.”

“I’d like to tell you to look on the bright side, but it might be hard to find one.”

“So far, all I can think of is that I’m helping my parents.”

“True. And who knows? You might be able to make some serious changes while you’re in office. Like all the post-caste issues. Our parents couldn’t get it right, but maybe you could.”

That thought comforted me less than he intended. I didn’t hope to be in control long enough to make any changes at all.

“I’m not quite sure I’m capable of that.”

“Well, Your Highness—”

“Please, Marid. It’s Eadlyn. You’ve known me since before I was born.”

He smirked. “Very true. Still, you are regent right now, and it feels wrong not to address you properly.”

“And what should I call you?”

“Nothing but a loyal subject. I’d like to offer any help I can in this tense time. And I know the dissolution of the castes wasn’t as clean as you all hoped, not even in the beginning. I’ve spent years lending my ear to the public. I think I’ve heard them very clearly, and if my commentary would be useful, please let me know.”

I raised my eyebrows as I considered his words. I knew a lot more about the lives of commoners these days thanks to the Selected, but an expert on public opinion might be a perfect tool to have in my arsenal. And even if I didn’t have great ambitions for my short time on the throne, something like this might show my people I cared, and that was critical. Especially considering what Ahren had said in his letter.

It hit me like a punch every time I remembered his words, but I knew he wouldn’t have told me that the people despised me if he hadn’t thought it would serve some good. Even though he left, I trusted that.

“Thank you, Marid. If I could do anything to ease the stress that this situation has brought to my father, it would be a huge blessing. When he’s ready to come back to work, I’d like the country to be the calmest he’s seen it in years. I’ll be in touch.”

He pulled a card out of his pocket and handed it to me. “That’s my personal number. Call anytime.”

I smiled. “Will your parents be upset that you’re helping me? Isn’t this fraternizing with the enemy?”

“No, no,” he said, his tone light. “Our parents had the same goal. They simply had different methods of reaching it. And now, with your mother unwell, you shouldn’t have to worry so much about things that are fixable, and the country’s morale certainly is. Now more than ever, I think our parents will approve of us working together.”