The Heir (The Selection #4)(66)

He swallowed. “It always seems to start in the poorer provinces. They’re not rebelling, not like when Mom and Dad were kids. . . . It’s more like they’re uprising.”

“What does that mean exactly?”

“They’re rallying to end the monarchy. No one is getting what they want out of the caste dissolution, and they think we don’t care.”

“Don’t care?” I asked, astonished. “Dad’s running himself ragged trying to fix it. I’m dating strangers for them!”

“I know. And I have no idea where that performance tonight came from, but that was spectacular.” I made a smart face, acknowledging the praise, but I was starting to question just how much of tonight was planned and how much was genuine. “But even then, what are we supposed to do? Perform forever?”

“Ha!” I scoffed. “As if you’d ever be asked to perform. It would always be me, and I can’t. I feel like I’m suffocating as it is.”

“We could all step down,” he suggested. “But then what would happen? Who would take over? And if we don’t step down, will they run us out?”

“Do you think they’d do that?” I breathed.

He stared into the distance. “I don’t know, Eady. People have done far worse things when they’re hungry or tired or unwaveringly poor.”

“But we can’t feed everyone. We can’t make everyone earn the same amount of money. What do they want from us?”

“Nothing,” he said honestly. “They just want more for themselves. I can’t say I blame them, but the people are confused. They think their lives are in our hands, but they’re not.”

“They’re in their own.”

“Exactly.”

We sat in silence for a long time, considering what this meant for us. Truthfully, though, I knew it would hit me harder than anyone else if the people followed through on this. I didn’t know how things like this happened, but governments changed. Kingdoms rose and fell; entire ideologies took over, shoving others to the side. Could I be brushed into the gutter?

I shivered, trying to imagine a life like that.

“They already threw food at me,” I murmured.

“What?”

“I’ve been so stupid,” I answered, shaking my head. “I’ve grown up believing that I was adored . . . but the people don’t love me. Once Mom and Dad step down, I can’t imagine there would be anything preventing the country from getting rid of me.”

It was a tangible thing, like I was being held aloft by this idea, and now that I knew it was a lie, my body felt heavier.

Ahren’s face grew worried. I waited for him to contradict me, but he couldn’t. “You can make them love you, Eadlyn.”

“I’m not as charming as you or as clever as Kaden or as adorably rambunctious as Osten. There’s nothing that special about me.”

He whacked his head on his headboard as he groaned. “Eadlyn, you’re joking, right? You’re the first female heir. You’re unlike anything this country has ever known. You just have to learn how to use that, to remind them who you are.”

I’m Eadlyn Schreave, and no one in the world is as powerful as me.

“I don’t think they’d like me if they knew who I really was.”

“If you’re going to whine, I’ll kick you out.”

“I’ll have you flogged.”

“You’ve been threatening me with that since we were six.”

“One day it’ll happen. Heed my warning.”

He chuckled. “Don’t worry, Eady. The chances of people organizing enough to do anything are slim. They’re venting. Once they get this out of their system, things will go back to normal, you’ll see.”

I nodded and sighed. Maybe I was fretting for nothing, but I could still hear the hateful yelling during the parade, and I could still see the hateful remarks from my kiss with Kile. This certainly wouldn’t be the last we heard about abolishing the monarchy.

“Don’t tell Mom and Dad I know, okay?”

“If you insist.”

I hopped up and kissed Ahren’s cheek. I felt bad for girls who didn’t have brothers. “See you tomorrow.”

He grinned. “Get some sleep.”

I left his room with every intention of going back to mine. But as I walked, I realized I was hungry. Now that I’d been to the kitchens, I kind of liked it down there. I remembered seeing some fruit, and there was cheese in the refrigerator. Certainly it was late enough that it couldn’t bother anyone, so I trotted down the back stairs.

I was wrong in assuming that it would be completely empty. There were a handful of young men and women rolling out dough and chopping vegetables. I took it all in for a moment, entranced by how efficient and driven they were. I loved that, in spite of the hour, they all seemed alert and happy, chatting with one another as they went about their work.

They were so interesting that it took several moments for me to notice the head of floppy blond curls in the back corner of the room. Henri had hung his shirt on a hook, and his blue undershirt was covered in flour. I moved quietly, but as the staff recognized me, they curtsied and bowed as I passed, alerting Henri to my presence.

When he saw me he tried to brush the mess off himself, failing completely. He pushed back his hair and turned to me, smiling as always.