The Selection Part 19

There were some paintings by artists I knew-van Gogh, Pica.s.so-and some I didn't. There were photographs of buildings I had seen before. There was one of the legendary White House. Compared to the pictures and what I'd read in my old history book, the palace dwarfed it in size and luxury, but I still wished it was around to see.

I walked farther down the hall and came upon a portrait of the royal family. It looked old; Maxon was shorter than his mother in this picture. He towered over her now.

In the time I'd been at the palace, I had only ever seen them together at dinners and the Illea Capital Report airing. Were they very private? Did they not like all these strange young girls in their house? Were they only all here because of blood and duty? I didn't know what to make of this invisible family.

"America?"

I turned at the sound of my name. Maxon was jogging down the hall toward me.

I felt like I was seeing him for the first time.

He had his suit coat off, and the sleeves were rolled up on his white shirt. His blue tie was loosened at the neck, and his hair that was always slicked back was bouncing around a bit as he moved. In stark contrast to the person in uniform yesterday, he looked more boyish, more real.

I froze. Maxon came up to me and grabbed my wrists.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" he pressed.

Wrong?

"Nothing. I'm fine," I replied. Maxon let out a breath I didn't realize he was holding.

"Thank goodness. When I got your note, I thought you were sick or something happened to your family."

"Oh! Oh, no. Maxon, I'm so sorry. I knew that was a stupid idea. I just didn't know if you'd be at dinner, and I wanted to see you."

"Well, what for?" he asked. He was still looking me over with a furrowed brow, as if he was making sure nothing was broken.

"Just to see you."

Maxon stopped moving. He looked into my eyes with a kind of wonder.

"You just wanted to see me?" He looked happily surprised.

"Don't be so shocked. Friends usually spend time together." My tone added the of course.

"Ah, you're cross with me because I've been engaged all week, aren't you? I didn't mean to neglect our friendship, America." Now he was back to the businesslike Maxon.

"No, I'm not mad. I was just explaining myself. You look busy. Go back to work, and I'll see you when you're free." I noticed he was still holding on to my wrists.

"Actually, do you mind if I stay a few minutes? They're having a budget meeting upstairs, and I detest those things." Without waiting for an answer, Maxon pulled me over to a short, plush sofa halfway down the hall that rested underneath a window, and I giggled a little as we sat. "What's so funny?"

"Just you," I said, smiling. "It's cute to see that your job bugs you. What's so bad about the meetings, anyway?"

"Oh, America!" he said, facing me again. "They go round and round in circles. Father does a good job at calming the advisers, but it's so hard to push the committees in any given direction. Mom is always on Father to give more to the school systems-she thinks the more educated you are, the less likely you are to be a criminal, and I agree-but Father is never forceful enough to get them to take away from other areas that could manage perfectly with lower funds. It's infuriating! And it's not like I'm in command, so my opinion is easily overlooked." Maxon propped his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his hands. He looked tired.

So now I could see a bit of Maxon's world, but it was just as unimaginable as ever. How could you deny the voice of your future sovereign?

"I'm sorry. On the plus side, you'll have more of a say in the future." I rubbed his back, trying to encourage him.

"I know. I tell myself that. But it's so frustrating when we could change things now if they'd only listen." His voice was a little hard to hear when it was directed at the carpet.

"Well, don't be too discouraged. Your mom is on the right path, but education alone won't fix anything."

Maxon raised his head. "What do you mean?" It almost sounded like an accusation. And rightly so. Here was an idea that he'd been championing, and I'd just squashed it. I tried to backpedal.

"Well, compared to the fancy-pants tutors someone like you has, the education system for Sixes and Sevens is terrible. I think getting better teachers or better facilities would do them a world of good. But then what about the Eights? Isn't that caste responsible for most of the crimes? They don't get any education. I think if they felt they had something, anything at all, it might encourage them.

"Besides..." I paused. I didn't know if this was something a boy who'd grown up with everything handed to him could grasp. "Have you ever been hungry, Maxon? Not just ready for dinner, but starving? If there was absolutely no food here, nothing for your mother or father, and you knew that if you just took something from people who had more in a day than you'd have in your whole life, you could eat ... what would you do? If they were counting on you, what wouldn't you do for someone you loved?"

He was quiet for a moment. Once before-when we'd talked about my maids during the attack-we'd kind of acknowledged the wide gap between us. This was a far more controversial topic of discussion, and I could see him wanting to avoid it.

"America, I'm not saying that some people don't have it hard, but stealing is-"

"Close your eyes, Maxon."

"What?"

"Close your eyes."

He frowned at me but obeyed. I waited until his eyes were shut and his face looked relaxed before I started.

"Somewhere in this palace, there is a woman who will be your wife."

I saw his mouth twitch, the beginnings of a hopeful smile.

"Maybe you don't know which face it is yet, but think of the girls in that room. Imagine the one who loves you the most. Imagine your *dear.'"

His hand was resting next to mine on the seat, and his fingers grazed mine for a second. I shied away from the touch.

"Sorry," he mumbled, looking my way.

"Keep 'em closed!"

He chuckled and went back to his original position.

"This girl? Imagine that she depends on you. She needs you to cherish her and make her feel like the Selection didn't even happen. Like if you were dropped on your own out in the middle of the country to wander around door to door, she's still the one you would have found. She was always the one you would have picked."

The hopeful smile began to settle. More than settle, it started to sag.

"She needs you to provide for her and protect her. And if it came to a point where there was absolutely nothing to eat, and you couldn't even fall asleep at night because the sound of her stomach growling kept you awake-"

"Stop it!" Maxon stood quickly. He walked across the hall and stayed there for a while, facing away from me.

I felt a little awkward. I hadn't realized this would make him so upset.

"Sorry," I whispered.

He nodded his head but continued to look at the wall. After a moment he turned around. His eyes were searching mine, sad and questioning.

"Is it really like that?" he asked.

"What?"

"Out there ... does that happen? Are people hungry like that a lot?"

"Maxon, I-"

"Tell me the truth." His mouth settled into a firm line.

"Yes. That happens. I know of families where people give up their share for their children or siblings. I know of a boy who was whipped in the town square for stealing food. Sometimes you do crazy things when you're desperate."

"A boy? How old?"

"Nine," I breathed with a shiver. I could still remember the scars on Jemmy's tiny back, and Maxon stretched his own back as if he felt it all himself.

"Have you"-he cleared his throat-"have you ever been like that? Starving?"

I ducked my head, which was a giveaway. I really didn't want to tell him about that.

"How bad?"

"Maxon, it will only upset you more."

"Probably," he said with a grave nod. "But I'm only starting to realize how much I don't know about my own country. Please."

I sighed.

"We've been pretty bad. Most times if it gets to where we have to choose, we keep the food and lose electricity. The worst was when it happened near Christmas one year. It was very cold, so we were all wearing tons of clothes and watching our breath inside the house. May didn't understand why we couldn't exchange gifts. As a general rule, there are never any leftovers at my house. Someone always wants more."

I watched his face grow pale and realized I didn't want to see him upset. I needed to turn this around, make it positive.

"I know the checks we've gotten over the last few weeks have really helped, and my family is very smart about money. I'm sure they've already tucked it away so it'll stretch out for a long time. You've done so much for us, Maxon." I tried to smile at him again, but his expression remained unchanged.

"Good G.o.d. When you said you were only here for the food, you weren't kidding, were you?" he asked, shaking his head.

"Really, Maxon, we've been doing pretty well lately. I-" But I couldn't finish my sentence.

Maxon came over and kissed my forehead.

"I'll see you at dinner."

As he walked away, he straightened his tie.

CHAPTER 18.

MAXON HAD SAID HE WOULD see me at dinner, but he wasn't there. The queen entered alone. We made our delicate bows as she took her seat, and then settled in ourselves.

I looked around the room to find the empty chair, a.s.suming he was on a date, but everyone was here.

I had spent the afternoon replaying what I'd said to Maxon. No wonder I'd never had any friends. I was shockingly bad at it.

Just then Maxon and the king walked in. Maxon had his suit coat back on, but his hair was still a handsome mess. He and the king had their heads together as they walked. We hurried to stand. Their conversation was animated. Maxon was using his hands to express things and the king was nodding, acknowledging his son's words but looking a little put out. When they reached the head table, King Clarkson gave Maxon a heavy pat on the back, his expression stern.

As the king turned to face us all, his face suddenly flooded with enthusiasm. "Oh, goodness, dear ladies, please sit." He kissed the queen on her head and sat himself.

But Maxon remained standing.

"Ladies, I have an announcement." Every eye focused in. What could he possibly have for us?

"I know you were all promised compensation for your partic.i.p.ation in the Selection." His voice was full of a ringing authority that I had only really heard once-the night he let me into the garden. He was much more attractive when he was using his status for a purpose. "However, there have been some new monetary allocations. If you are a natural Two or a Three, you will no longer be receiving financing. Fours and Fives will continue to receive compensation, but it will be slightly less than what it has been so far."

I could see some of the girls had their mouths open in shock. Money was part of the deal. Celeste, for example, was fuming. I guessed if you had a lot of money, you got used to the idea of collecting it. And the thought that someone like me would be getting anything she wasn't probably got under her skin.

"I do apologize for any inconvenience, but I will explain this all tomorrow night on the Capital Report. And this is a nonnegotiable situation. If anyone has a problem with this new arrangement and no longer wants to partic.i.p.ate, you may leave after dinner."

He sat down and started talking again to the king, who seemed more interested in his dinner than Maxon's words. I was a little disheartened that my family would be receiving less money, but at least we were still getting some. I tried to focus on my dinner, but mostly I was wondering what this meant, and I wasn't alone. Murmurs went up around the room.

"What do you think that's about?" Tiny asked quietly.

"Maybe it's a test," Kriss offered. "I bet there are some people here who are only in it for the money."

As I listened to her, I saw Fiona nudge Olivia and nod her head toward me. I turned away so she wouldn't know I saw.

The girls offered up theories, and I kept watching Maxon. I tried to catch his attention so I could tug my ear, but he didn't look my way.

Mary and I were alone in my room. Tonight I'd face Gavril-and the rest of the nation-on the Illea Capital Report. Not to mention the other girls would be right there the whole time, watching one another and mentally critiquing. Saying I was nervous was a gross understatement. I fidgeted while Mary listed some possible questions, things she thought the public would want to know.

How was I enjoying the palace? What was the most romantic thing Maxon had done for me? Did I miss my family? Had I kissed Maxon yet?

I eyed Mary when she asked me that one. I'd been throwing out answers to the questions, trying not to think too hard. But I could tell she'd asked that one out of genuine curiosity. The smile on her face proved it.

"No! For goodness' sake." I tried to sound mad, but it was too funny to be upset about. I ended up smirking. And that made Mary giggle. "Oh, just ... why don't you clean something!"

She laughed outright, and before I could tell her to stop, Anne and Lucy burst through the doors with a garment bag.

Lucy was looking more excited than I'd seen her since the moment I'd walked in the first day, and Anne seemed quietly devious.

"What's this about?" I asked as Lucy stopped in front of me to give a buoyant curtsy.

"We finished your dress for the Report, miss," she replied.