The One (The Selection, #3)(15)

“Lucy, you said you were going to finish this hem last night,” Anne said. “You left early to do it.”

“I know, I know. I got sidetracked. I can do it now.” Her eyes were pleading. Lucy was already a bit sensitive, and I knew Anne’s rigid manner sometimes got to her.

“You’ve been getting sidetracked an awful lot these last few days,” Anne commented.

Mary held out her hands. “Calm down. Give me the dress before you mess it up.”

“I’m sorry,” Lucy said. “Just let me take it now, and I’ll get it done.”

“What’s going on with you?” Anne demanded. “You’ve been acting so funny.”

Lucy looked up at her, eyes frozen. Whatever her secret was, she looked terrified to share it.

I cleared my throat.

They whipped their heads in my direction, all curtsying in turn.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” I said as I walked toward them, “but I highly doubt the queen’s maids argue like that. Besides, we’re wasting time if there’s work to be done.”

Anne, still angry, pointed her finger at Lucy. “But she—”

I silenced her with a small gesture of my hand, a bit surprised that it worked so easily.

“No arguing. Lucy, why don’t you take that down to the workroom to finish, and we can all get some room to think.”

Lucy happily scooped up the fabric, so grateful for the means to escape that she practically ran from the room. Anne watched her go, a full pout on her face. Mary looked worried but dutifully went to work without another word.

It took all of two minutes for me to realize that the mood in my room was too dreary for me to focus. I grabbed some paper and a pen and headed back downstairs. I wondered if I’d done the right thing, sparing Lucy. Maybe they’d all be fine if I’d let them air out whatever was happening. Perhaps my meddling would shake their resolve in helping me. I’d never really bossed them around like that before.

I paused outside the Women’s Room. That didn’t feel like the right place either. I moved down the main hallway, finding a little nook with a bench. That seemed nice. I ran into the library and picked up a book to lean on and went back to the nook, finding myself practically hidden by the large plant beside the bench. The wide window looked into the garden, and, for a minute, the palace didn’t seem so small. I watched birds fly outside the window and tried to form the kindest way to tell my parents there wouldn’t be any more checks.

“Maxon, can’t we go on a real date? Somewhere outside the palace?” I recognized Kriss’s voice immediately. Hmm. The Women’s Room might not have been so full after all.

I could hear the smile in his voice as he answered. “I wish we could, sweetheart, but even if things were calm, that would be difficult.”

“I want to see you somewhere where you’re not the prince,” she whined lovingly.

“Ah, but I’m the prince everywhere.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do. I’m sorry I can’t give that to you, really. I think it would be nice to see you somewhere where you weren’t an Elite. But this is the life I live.”

His voice grew a little sad.

“Would you regret it?” he asked. “For the rest of your life, it would be like this. Beautiful walls, but walls all the same. My mother scarcely leaves the palace more than once or twice a year.” Through the thick leaves of the planted shrub, I watched as they passed me, completely unaware. “And if you think the public is intrusive now, it would be much worse when you’re the only girl they’re watching. I know your feelings for me run deep. I feel it every day. But what about the life that comes along with me? Do you want that?”

It seemed as if they’d stopped somewhere in the hallway, as Maxon’s voice wasn’t fading.

“Maxon Schreave,” Kriss started, “you make it sound like it’s a sacrifice for me to be here. Each day I’m thankful for being chosen. Sometimes I try to imagine what it would have been like if we’d never met. . . . I’d rather lose you now than have gone a lifetime without this.”

Her voice was getting thick. I didn’t think she was crying, but she was close.

“I need you to know I’d want you without the beautiful clothes and the gorgeous rooms. I’d want you without the crown, Maxon. I just want you.”

Maxon was momentarily speechless, and I could imagine him holding her close or wiping away the tears that might have come by now.

“I can’t tell you what it means to me to hear that. I’ve been dying for someone to tell me that I was what mattered,” he confessed quietly.

“You are, Maxon.”

There was another quiet moment between them.

“Maxon?”

“Yes?”

“I . . . I don’t think I want to wait anymore.”

Even though I knew I’d regret it, at those words I silently put down my paper and pen, slipped off my shoes, and scurried to the end of the hall. I peeked around and saw the back of Maxon’s head as Kriss’s hand slid just barely into the neck of his suit. Her hair fell to the side as they kissed, and, for her first, it seemed like it was going really well. Better than Maxon’s, that was for sure.

I ducked back around the corner and heard her giggle a second later. Maxon let out a sigh that was half triumph and half relief. I walked to my seat quickly, angling myself toward the window again, just in case.