The Selection (The Selection #1)(33)

That made me laugh, and any threat of tears retreated for the moment. The relief on his face was unmistakable.

“Would you like me to let you go home to your love today?” he asked. It was obvious that my preference for someone else bothered him, but instead of choosing to be angry, he showed compassion. The gesture made me trust him.

“That’s the thing.... I don’t want to go home.”

“Really?” He ran his fingers through his hair, and I had to laugh again at how lost he seemed.

“Could I be perfectly honest with you?”

He nodded.

“I need to be here. My family needs me to be here. Even if you could let me stay for a week, that would be a blessing for them.”

“You mean you need the money?”

“Yes.” I felt bad admitting it. It must have seemed like I was using him. In truth, I guess I was. But there was more to it. “And there are … certain people”—I looked up at him—“at home who I can’t bear to see right now.”

Maxon nodded his head in understanding but did not speak.

I hesitated. I guessed the worst that could happen now was being sent home anyway, so I continued. “If you would be willing to let me stay, even for a little while, I’d be willing to make a trade,” I offered.

His eyebrows shot up. “A trade?”

I bit my lip. “If you let me stay…” This was going to sound so stupid. “All right, well, look at you. You’re the prince. You’re busy all day, what with helping run a country and all, and you’re supposed to find time to narrow thirty-five, well, thirty-four girls, down to one? That’s a lot to ask, don’t you think?”

He nodded. I could see his genuine exhaustion at the thought.

“Wouldn’t it be much better for you if you had someone on the inside? Someone to help? Like, you know, a friend?”

“A friend?” he asked.

“Yes. Let me stay, and I’ll help you. I’ll be your friend.” He smiled at the words. “You don’t have to worry about pursuing me. You already know that I don’t have feelings for you. But you can talk to me anytime you like, and I’ll try and help. You said last night that you were looking for a confidante. Well, until you find one for good, I could be that person. If you want.”

His expression was affectionate but guarded. “I’ve met nearly every woman in this room, and I can’t think of one who would make a better friend. I’d be glad to have you stay.”

My relief was inexpressible.

“Do you think,” Maxon asked, “that I could still call you ‘my dear’?”

“Not a chance,” I whispered.

“I’ll keep trying. I don’t have it in me to give up.” And I believed him. It was annoying to think he’d press that issue.

“Did you call all of them that?” I nodded my head toward the rest of the room.

“Yes, and they all seemed to like it.”

“That is the exact reason why I don’t.” And I stood.

Maxon was chuckling as he rose with me. I would have scowled, but it actually was kind of funny. He bowed, I curtsied, and I went back to my seat.

I was so hungry that it felt like an eternity until he’d gone through the last rows. But finally the last girl was back in her seat, and I was eagerly anticipating my first breakfast at the palace.

Maxon walked to the center of the room. “If I have asked you to remain behind, please stay in your seats. If not, please proceed with Silvia here into the dining hall. I will join you shortly.”

Asked to stay? Was that a good thing?

I stood, as did most of the girls, and started walking. He must just want some special time with those girls. I saw that Ashley was one of them. No doubt she was special, a born princess by the looks of her. The rest were girls I hadn’t managed to meet. Not that they had wanted to meet me. The cameras lingered behind to capture whatever special moment was about to occur, and the rest of us moved on.

We walked into the banquet room and there, looking more majestic than even I could imagine, were King Clarkson and Queen Amberly. Also in the room, more camera crews swarmed to catch our first meeting. I hesitated, wondering if we should all go back to the door and be invited in. But most everyone else—if somewhat hesitantly—kept walking. I walked quickly to my chair, hoping I hadn’t drawn attention to myself.

Silvia walked in not two seconds later and took in the scene.

“Ladies,” she said, “I’m afraid we didn’t get this far. Whenever you enter a room where the king or queen is present, or if they should enter a room you are in, the proper thing to do is curtsy. Then when you are addressed, you may rise and take your seat. All together, shall we?” And we all curtsied in the direction of the head table.

“Welcome, girls,” the queen said. “Please take your seats, and welcome to the palace. We’re pleased to have you.” There was something pleasant about her voice. It was calm in the same way her expression was, but not lifeless by any means.

As Silvia had said, the servers came to our right to pour orange juice into our glasses. Our plates came covered on large trays, and the butlers lifted the covers off right in front of us. I was hit in the face with a fragrant blast of steam from my pancakes. Mercifully, the murmurs of awe across the room covered my growling stomach.