The Heir (The Selection #4)(49)

So I pulled myself together, remembering who I was. I couldn’t run scared.

As the meal drew to a close, I stood, commanding their attention. “Gentlemen, I have a surprise for you. In fifteen minutes, please come meet me in the studio for a little game.”

Some laughed and others clapped, but they didn’t know what was waiting for them. I almost felt bad. I left the room before them, going to make sure my dress and hair looked right for filming.

Shortly thereafter, the boys filed in, all of them seeming a little stunned by the set.

I sat in front, a bit like a schoolteacher, while they each had a stool with a paper and marker and a large, cartoonish name tag like the ones I’d seen on TV game shows.

“Welcome, gentlemen!” I sang. “Please come find your seat.”

The cameras were already rolling, capturing the nervous smiles and confused head shaking as they found their places and stuck on their tags.

“Today we’re having a pop quiz on all things Illéa. We’ll be discussing history, foreign affairs, and domestic policies. When you get an answer right, one of the maids standing by,” I said, motioning to the ladies waiting in the wings, “will come and put a gold check mark sticker on you. Get one wrong, and they’ll bring a black X.”

The boys chuckled with excitement and anxiety, looking at the baskets of stickers.

“Don’t worry, this is all for fun. But I will be using this information to help decide my next elimination. If you get the most wrong, it doesn’t mean you’re automatically out . . . but I’m watching,” I teased, pointing a finger at them.

“First question,” I announced. “This is an important one! When is my birthday?”

There were several laughs as the boys bent their heads, scribbling answers and peeking at their neighbors’ answers.

“Okay, hold up your signs,” I ordered, and gawked humorously at the range of dates.

Kile, of course, knew it was April 16, and he had plenty of company, but there were only a few who knew the year as well.

“You know what, I’m going to go ahead and give this to anyone who got April at all.”

“All right!” Fox called enthusiastically, and Lodge and Calvin high-fived in the back. The maids crossed the stage, and boys who got an X wailed comically but took the stickers without sulking.

“Here’s one with lots of potential answers. Who would you consider Illéa’s greatest allies?”

Some correctly guessed France, Italy, and New Asia, while Henri held up Swendway, followed by several exclamation points.

Julian’s sign had several arrows drawn up to his face and had ME written in large letters.

I pointed at him. “Wait, wait, wait! What does that even mean?” I asked, trying to suppress a smile.

His grin was huge as he shrugged. “I just think I’d be a really great friend.”

I shook my head. “Ridiculous.” But I didn’t think I came off sounding as reproachful as I meant to.

A maid raised her hand on the side of the stage. “So does he still get an X or . . . ?”

“Oh, that’s an X!” I assured her, and the boys chuckled, even Julian.

Most correctly named August Illéa as Dad’s partner in eradicating the rebel forces, and they all knew the history of the Fourth World War. By the time we got to the end, I was pleased that the majority of them were so well-informed.

“Let me see. Who has the most checks?” The maids helped me count across the rows, which was very efficient since they had handed out the points. “Hale has six. So do Raoul and Ean. Bravo, gentlemen!”

I clapped, and the others joined in before realizing what was next.

“Okay, and now, who has the most X marks?”

The maids quickly pointed to the back corner, where poor Henri was covered with black.

“Oh, no, Henri!” I yelled with a laugh, trying to communicate how little stock I took in the game.

I really had hoped to weed out someone this way, but I knew Henri’s lack of information came from living in the country for only a year or a misunderstanding of the questions in translation.

“Who else do we have? Burke and Ivan . . . not too terrible.” They had each done pretty badly but still had three correct answers over Henri. At least it confirmed my lack of excitement over Ivan.

“Thank you all for indulging me this morning, and I will keep this information in mind as I continue to narrow down suitors in the next few weeks. Congratulations on being so intelligent!” I applauded them, and they patted one another on the back as the cameras powered down.

“Before you go, gentlemen, I have one last question; and it comes from some very recent history, so you all had best get it right.”

They nervously murmured among themselves, ready for the challenge.

“If you know the answer, feel free to just shout it out. Ready? When is it acceptable to put your hands on me without my permission?”

I stared at them all, stone-faced, daring a single one of them to laugh. They exchanged glances with one another, but it was only Hale who was brave enough to answer.

“Never,” he called out.

“That is correct. You’d all do well to remember that. Jack Ranger was let off easy, with nothing more than a punch to his face from my brother and the shame of his ejection. If another one of you attempts to touch me without my consent, you will be caned or worse. Are we clear?”