The Heir (The Selection #4)(41)

“And what is that?”

“After the party there will be an elimination.”

Murmurs filled the room, and I knew, regardless of how the public felt about me, meeting the boys tonight would make them curious about who stayed and who left.

I continued, hushing the crowd with my words. “It could be one person, it could be three. . . . I don’t know. So, gentlemen,” I said, turning back to the Selected, “come prepared.”

“I can’t wait to see how this all turns out, and I’m positive it will be a wonderful event. Now, one final question before we call it a night.”

I sat up taller. “Go for it.”

“What are you looking for in a husband?”

What was I looking for? My independence. Peace, freedom . . . a happiness I thought I had until Ahren questioned it.

I shrugged. “I’m not sure anyone knows what they’re looking for until they find it.”





CHAPTER 17


HOW DID JOSIE GET HER hands on another one of my tiaras? I’d just about had it with her. She was going to parade around in front of the cameras in her best dress and my tiara pretending she was royal for the millionth time in her life.

I made eye contact and smiled at people as I passed, but I didn’t stop to talk to anyone until I found Kile. He was standing with Henri again, sipping iced tea and watching a game of badminton. Henri bowed right away.

“Hello today, Your Highness,” he said, his accent making the words sound brighter.

“Hello, Henri. Kile.”

“Hi, Eadlyn.”

I might have been imagining there was something different about Kile’s voice, but for maybe the first time ever, I wanted to hear him speak. I shook my head, focusing.

“Kile, could you please go talk to your sister?”

The contentment in his eyes quickly turned to frustration. “Why? What’d she do this time?”

“She’s taken yet another one of my tiaras.”

“Don’t you have, like, a thousand of those?”

I huffed. “That’s hardly the point. It’s mine, and she shouldn’t be wearing it. When she walks around like that, she gives the impression that she’s royal when she’s not. It’s inappropriate. Could you please talk to her about her behavior?”

“When did I become the person who did all these favors for you?”

My eyes darted over to Henri and Erik, who didn’t know about the arrangement behind our kiss. They didn’t seem to catch on.

“Please?” I asked in a hushed voice.

His eyes softened, and I saw a little of the person he showed me in his room, someone sweet and engaging. “Fine. But Josie just likes attention. I don’t think she’s doing it to be mean.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m going. Be right back.”

He stomped off as Erik conveyed what was happening to Henri.

Henri cleared his throat before speaking, his words ending on strange pitches. “How are you today, Your Highness?”

I wasn’t completely sure if I should try to go through Erik or not. . . . I went with Henri. “Very good. You?”

“Good, good,” he replied cheerfully. “I to enjoy . . . umm.” He turned and conveyed the rest of his comment to Erik.

“He thinks the party is great, and he likes the company.”

I wasn’t sure if he meant Kile or me, but either way, it was nice of him to say.

“So when did you move over from Swendway?”

Henri was nodding his head as if to confirm he was from Swendway but not actually answering the question. Erik whispered over to him quickly, and Henri gave him a lengthy reply that was translated for me.

“Henri emigrated to Illéa last year when he was seventeen. He comes from a family of cooks, which is what he does back home. They make food from their homeland and generally interact with others who also came from Swendway and only speak Finnish. He has a younger sister who is working very hard on her English, but it’s a difficult language.”

“Wow. That was a lot to keep up with,” I said to Erik.

He waved his hand. “I try.”

I could guess how hard Erik’s work was, but I appreciated his modesty. I turned to Henri. “We’ll have to spend some time together soon. Where we can talk easier.”

Erik passed that on to Henri, who nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes!”

I giggled. “Until then.”

The lawn was full of the Selected. General Leger had Miss Lucy on his arm as he spoke with a handful of boys by a fountain, and Dad was making his rounds, occasionally clapping someone on the back and saying hello before whisking off again. Mom was sitting in a chair under a parasol, and I wasn’t sure if it was charming or unsettling that several of the Selected were buzzing around her.

It was a delightful party. People were playing games, there was lots of food, and a string quartet was performing under a canopy. The cameras zoomed around capturing it all, and I hoped this would be enough to calm the people. I had no idea whether Dad was closer to having a plan for how to soothe the country permanently.

In the meantime, I had to find a way to eliminate at least one person after today, and have a good enough reason to make it seem believable.

Kile sneaked up on me. “Here you go.” He held my tiara in his hands.