The Heir (The Selection #4)(25)

I’d changed into a gown for dinner and put on another pair of toe-destroying heels. I was still riding my post-elimination buzz, so pleased to be making steps to help Dad. It dwindled quickly though as Ahren walked toward me with a warning glare in his eyes.

“What in the world did you do to them?” he asked accusingly.

“Nothing,” I vowed. “I held an elimination. I wanted to show everyone that this was important to me. Like Dad.”

Ahren pressed his palm into his forehead. “Have you had your nose buried in reports all day?”

“Of course I have,” I replied. “You might not have noticed, but that’s kind of my job.”

Ahren leaned in. “The clips on the news have painted you to be a black widow. Your face was smug as you kicked them out. And you got rid of a third of them, Eadlyn. That doesn’t make the candidates look important. It makes them look disposable.” I could feel the blood draining from my face as Ahren continued in a whisper. “Two of them have asked in the most circumspect and quiet ways possible if there was a chance that you prefer women.”

I let out a sound that wasn’t quite a laugh. “Of course, because the only way I could possibly like men is if I bowed down at their feet?”

“This isn’t the time to make a stand, Eadlyn. You need to be gracious.”

“Pardon me, Your Highness?”

Ahren and I both turned at the sound of our title, and I found myself with a reporter in my face, her eyes and smile bordering on manic.

“I hate to interrupt, but I was wondering if I could have a brief interview with the princess before my deadline.” The reporter showed her teeth again, and I couldn’t stop myself from feeling I was about to be eaten alive either figuratively or literally.

“She’d be happy to,” Ahren offered, kissing my forehead as he disappeared.

My pulse sped. I hadn’t prepared myself for this. But of all the things that could happen right now, I refused to let the public see me sweat.

“Your Highness, you eliminated eleven suitors today. Do you think this cut was a bit drastic?”

I squared my shoulders and gave her a sweet grin. “I can certainly see why some might think that,” I answered generously, “but this is a very important decision. I don’t think it would be wise to spend time on young men who are rude or unimpressive. I’m hoping with a smaller pool, I’ll be able to get to know these gentlemen much better.”

I scanned the words in my head. Nothing humiliating or incriminating in there.

“Yes, but why were you so harsh? For a few you simply said ‘no’ or flicked your hand.”

I tried not to let the worry show on my face. At the time those things had seemed kind of funny.

“When my father is stern, no one chastises him. I don’t think it’s fair that when I act similarly, I’m seen as cruel. I’m making a huge decision, and I’m trying to be wise about it.” While I wanted to scream those words, I said them with the voice I’d been trained to use in interviews, and I even managed to smile through most of it.

“But one of them cried after you left the room,” she informed me.

“What?” I asked, worrying that my face was growing paler by the second.

“One of the Selected cried when the elimination ended. Do you think that’s a normal response or that you maybe elicited it by being severe with them?”

I swallowed, scrambling for anything to say. “I have three brothers. They all cry, and I can assure you, the reasons rarely make sense to me.”

She chuckled. “So you don’t think you were too hard on them?”

I knew what she was doing, digging at the same question until I snapped. She was very close to getting the better of me.

“I can’t imagine what it would be like on the other end of the Selection process and to be removed so early on. But, besides my father, no one here knows what it’s like to be on this side of it either. I’m going to do my best to find a worthy husband. And if that man can’t handle a harsh word or two, he definitely wouldn’t make it as a prince. Trust me on that!” I reached out and touched her arm, as if this was gossip or a joke. It was a disarming technique.

“Speaking of suitors, I hope you’ll excuse me. I need to go spend some time with them.”

She opened her mouth to ask another question, but I turned away, holding my head high. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t go straight to the drinks, I couldn’t unleash every swear word I knew into the air, and I couldn’t run into the arms of my parents. I had to look content, so I walked around the room, smiling and batting my lashes at the boys as I passed them.

I noticed those small things alone made them grin at me or change their posture. Instead of retreating, their expressions softened, and I could see these tiny moments of gentleness were erasing their memories of this morning in the Men’s Parlor already. I wished with everything I had that the public would let it slide as quickly as the boys did.

I figured eventually one of them would be brave enough to speak to me. And it turned out that person was Hale.

“So, we’re at a tea party,” he said, falling into step beside me. “What kind of tea does the princess like best?”

He sipped from his own cup, smiling shyly.

Hale had an effortless warmth about him, similar to Miss Marlee, and it was easy to hold a conversation with him. At the moment, I was more grateful he was the first one to approach me than he could have ever guessed. He’d rescued me twice now.