The Selection (The Selection #1)(34)

King Clarkson blessed our food, and we all began to eat. A few minutes later, Maxon walked in to take his seat, but before we could move, he called out.

“Please don’t rise, ladies. Enjoy your breakfasts.” He walked up to the head table, kissed his mother on the cheek, gave his father a firm pat on the back, and settled into his own chair just to the king’s left. He made a few comments to the closest butler, who laughed quietly, and then dug into his own plate.

Ashley didn’t come. Or any of the other girls. I looked around, confused, counting to see how many were missing. Eight. Eight girls were not here.

It was Kriss, sitting across from me, who answered the question in my eyes.

“They’re gone,” she said.

Gone? Oh. Gone…

I couldn’t imagine what they had done in less than five minutes to displease Maxon, but I was suddenly grateful I’d chosen to be honest.

Just like that, we were down to twenty-seven.





CHAPTER 12



THE CAMERAS DID A LAP around the room and left to let us enjoy our breakfast in peace, getting one last shot of the prince before they departed.

I was a little thrown off by the sudden elimination, but Maxon didn’t seem too distressed. He ate his food without a care, and as I watched I realized I should eat my own breakfast before it got cold. Again, it was almost too delicious. The orange juice was so pure that I had to take smaller sips just to absorb it. The eggs and bacon were heaven, and the pancakes were perfectly done, not too thin like the ones I made at home.

I heard lots of little sighs all around me and knew I wasn’t the only one enjoying the food. Remembering to use the tongs, I picked up a strawberry tart from the basket in the center of the table. As I did so, I looked around the room to see how the other Fives were enjoying their meals. That was when I noticed that I was the only Five left.

I didn’t know if Maxon was aware of that information—he barely seemed to know our names—but it was strange they were both gone. If I had been another stranger to Maxon when I walked into that room, would I have been kicked out, too? I mulled this over as I bit into the strawberry tart. It was so sweet and the dough was so flaky, every millimeter of my mouth was engaged, taking over the rest of my senses entirely. I didn’t mean to make the little moan, but it was by far the best thing I had ever tasted. I took another bite before I even swallowed the first.

“Lady America?” a voice called.

The other heads in the room turned to the voice, which belonged to Prince Maxon. I was shocked that he’d address me, or any of us, so casually and in front of the others.

What was worse than being called out so unexpectedly was that my mouth was full of food. I covered my mouth with my hand and chewed as quickly as I could manage. It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, but with so many eyes on me, it felt like an eternity. I noted Celeste’s smug face as she watched me. I must have looked like an easy kill in her eyes.

“Yes, Your Majesty?” I replied as soon as I had most of it swallowed.

“How are you enjoying the food?” Maxon seemed on the verge of laughter, either from my bewildered expression or because he’d brought up a detail from our very first and highly unauthorized conversation.

I tried to stay calm myself. “It’s excellent, Your Majesty. This strawberry tart … well, I have a sister who loves sweets more than I do. I think she’d cry if she tasted this. It’s perfect.”

Maxon swallowed a bite of his own breakfast and leaned back in his chair. “Do you really think she would cry?” He seemed exceedingly amused at the idea. He did have strange feelings toward women and crying.

I thought about it. “Yes, actually, I do. She doesn’t have much of a filter when it comes to her emotions.”

“Would you wager money on it?” he asked quickly. I noticed the heads of every girl turning back and forth between us like they were watching a game of tennis.

“If I had any to bet, I certainly would.” I smiled at the idea of betting over someone else’s tears of joy.

“What would you be willing to barter instead? You seem to be very good at striking deals.” He was enjoying this little game. Fine. I’d play.

“Well, what do you want?” I posed. Then I wondered what in the world I could offer someone who had everything.

“What do you want?” he countered.

Now that was a fascinating question. Almost as interesting as thinking about what I could offer Maxon was what he could offer me. He had the world at his disposal. So what did I want?

I wasn’t a One, but I was living like I was. I had more food than I could finish and the most comfortable bed I could imagine. People were waiting on me hand and foot, whether I liked it or not. And if I needed anything, all I had to do was ask.

The only thing I really wanted was something that made this place feel like less of a palace. If my family were running around somewhere, or if I wasn’t so done up. I couldn’t ask for my family to visit. I’d only been here a day.

“If she cries, I want to wear pants for a week,” I offered.

Everyone laughed, but in a quiet, polite way. Even the king and queen seemed to find my request amusing. I liked the way the queen looked at me, like I was less of a foreigner to her now.

“Done,” Maxon said. “And if she doesn’t, you owe me a walk around the grounds tomorrow afternoon.”