Happily Ever After (22 page)

“Do you know what this is about?” I whispered to Carter as the guard took us upstairs.

“No. I can’t imagine we’re in trouble for anything, but the formality of being escorted by a guard is . . . off-putting.”

I laced my hand in his, my wedding band twisting a bit in the process and lodging the knot between our fingers.

The guard led us to the Throne Room, which was typically reserved for greeting guests or special ceremonies related to the crown. Maxon was sitting at the far end of the room, his crown affixed on his head. He looked so wise. My heart swelled to see America sitting on a smaller throne to his right, her hands folded in her lap. There was no crown for her yet—that would come on her wedding day—but she wore a comb in her hair that looked like a sunburst, and she was already so queenly.

Off to one side, a group of advisers sat at a table, reviewing stacks of papers and furiously scribbling notes.

We followed the guard down a blue carpet. He stopped right before King Maxon and bowed, then stepped aside, leaving Carter and me facing the thrones.

Carter quickly dipped his head. “Your Majesty.”

I followed with a curtsy.

“Carter and Marlee Woodwork,” he began with a smile. My heart wanted to burst from hearing my full, true married name. “In light of your service to the crown, I, your king, am taking the liberty of undoing past punishments
inflicted upon you.”

Carter and I peeked at each other, unsure of what this meant.

“Of course, your physical punishment cannot be changed, but other stipulations may. Am I correct that you were both sentenced to be Eights?”

It was bizarre to hear him speak like this, but I supposed there were rules to follow. Carter spoke for both of us.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“And is it also correct that you have been living in the palace, doing the work of Sixes for the past two months?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Is it also true that you, Mrs. Woodwork, served the future queen when she was physically unwell?”

I smiled at America. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Is it also true that you, Mr. Woodwork, have loved and cherished Mrs. Woodwork, a former Elite, and therefore precious Daughter of Illéa, giving her the best she can possibly have under your circumstances?”

Carter looked down. It was as if I could see him questioning whether he’d given me enough.

I piped up again. “Yes, Your Majesty!”

I watched my husband as he blinked back tears. He was the one who told me that the life we had now wasn’t forever, the one who encouraged me when the days were too long. How could he ever think he wasn’t enough?

“In accordance with your service, I, King Maxon Schreave, am relieving you of your caste assignments. You
are no longer Eights. Carter and Marlee Woodwork, you are the first citizens in Illéa to be casteless.”

I squinted at him. “Casteless, Your Majesty?” I chanced a look at America and saw her beaming at me, tears glistening in her eyes.

“Correct. You are now at liberty to make two choices. First, you must decide whether you would like to continue to call the palace your home. Second, you can tell me what profession you would like to have. Whatever you decide, my fiancée and I will happily provide you with lodging and assistance. But, even after that, you will still have no caste. You will simply be yourselves.”

I turned to Carter, completely gobsmacked.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“We owe him everything.”

“Agreed.” Carter drew himself up and turned to Maxon. “Your Majesty, my wife and I would be happy to stay in your home and serve you. I can’t speak for her, but I love my position as a groundskeeper. I’m happy to work outside, and I would do that for as long as I’m able. If the head position ever opens, I’d like to be considered for it, but I am otherwise content.”

Maxon nodded. “Very well. And Mrs. Woodwork?”

I looked at America. “If the future queen would have me, I’d love to be one of her ladies-in-waiting.”

America bounced in her seat a little and pulled her hands up to her heart.

Maxon looked at her as if she was the most adorable thing
on the planet. “You might be able to tell that’s what she was hoping for.” He cleared his throat and sat up straighter, calling out to the men at the table. “Let it be recorded that Carter and Marlee Woodwork have been forgiven of their past crimes and now live under the protection of the palace. Let it further say that they have no caste and are above any such segregation.”

“So recorded!” one man shouted back.

As soon as he had finished speaking, Maxon stood and took off his crown, while America positively leaped out of her seat and ran down to throw her arms around me. “I hoped you would stay!” she sang. “I can’t do this without you!”

“Are you kidding? How lucky am I to serve the queen?”

Maxon joined us and gave Carter a firm handshake. “Are you sure about the groundskeeping? You could go back to guarding or even be an adviser if you like.”

“I’m sure. I’ve never had a head for that kind of thing. I was always good with my hands, and that kind of work makes me happy.”

“All right,” Maxon said. “If you ever change your mind, let me know.”

Carter nodded, wrapping an arm around me.

“Oh!” America galloped back to her throne. “I almost forgot!” Picking up a small box, she returned to us, beaming.

“What’s that?” I asked.

She smiled at Maxon. “I’d promised you I’d be at your
wedding, and I wasn’t. And even though it’s a little late, I thought I could make up for it with a little present.”

America held out the box to us, and I bit my lip in anticipation. All the things I thought I’d have at my wedding—a beautiful dress, a fantastic party, a room full of flowers—had been missing. The only thing I did have on that day was an absolutely perfect groom, and I was happy enough about that to let everything else pass.

Still, it was nice to receive a gift. It made things feel real.

I cracked open the box and resting inside were two simple, beautiful gold bands.

I covered my mouth. “America!”

“We did our best at guessing your sizes,” Maxon said. “And if you’d prefer a different metal, we’d be happy to exchange them.”

“I think your strings are sweet,” America said. “I hope you put the ones you’re wearing now away somewhere and keep them forever. But we thought you deserved something a bit more permanent.”

I stared at them, not able to believe they were real. It was funny. They were such small things, but they were absolutely priceless. I was close to tears with joy.

Carter took the rings out of my hand and handed them to Maxon, removing the smaller one from the box.

“Let’s see how it looks.” He slowly rolled my string down my finger, holding on to it as he slid the gold one on in its place.

“A little loose,” I said, fiddling with it. “But it’s perfect.”

Excited, I reached for Carter’s ring, and he tugged off his old one, keeping it with mine. His fit wonderfully, and I sat my hand on top of his, fanning out my fingers.

“This is too much!” I said. “It’s too many good things in one day.”

America came up behind me and wrapped her arms around me. “I have a feeling lots of good things are coming.”

I hugged her as Carter went to shake Maxon’s hand again. “I’m so glad to have you back,” I whispered.

“Me, too.”

“And you’ll need someone to stop you from going overboard,” I teased.

“Are you kidding? I need an army of people to stop me from going overboard.”

I giggled. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough. You know that, right? I’ll always be here for you.”

“Then that will be thanks enough.”

“J
UST A FEW MORE MINUTES,
miss,” the chauffeur called.

This drive was taking an eternity. The car was nice and all, no objections there, but I seriously couldn’t take this waiting. By now all the girls who were from the West Coast were either in the palace or close to it. In the meantime, I was wasting precious moments getting to the Carolina airport. Why couldn’t I simply have left from Clermont? Certainly the palace could have afforded separate flights.

As we turned onto the drive for the airport, I began gathering my things, shoving my brush and mints back into my bag. I checked my reflection one last time as the car finally came to a stop. I nudged the skin next to my eye. Was that a wrinkle? No, just the light. Still, if a shadow could do that, imagine what a few more years would accomplish.

“Miss?” the driver asked.

I glanced up at him, still wondering if I really looked as tired as my reflection led me to believe.

“Would you mind?” he asked, holding up a magazine opened to a recent ad I’d done for a line of bikinis.

I tried not to let my disgust over a much older, fatter man ogling me in basically my underwear come to the surface. Smiles were important in my line of work, and if I was going to be the princess, I’d need everyone to adore me. So I made my face gentle as I reached for the magazine.

“Thank you. My daughter is a huge fan.”

“Oh?” I asked, relieved that it was for her.

“Yeah, she’s a pretty thing and studies these ads more than her math. She wants to model so badly.”

I squinted. “But if you’re a driver, she must be a Six?”

“Yeah,” he said as if his position was somehow secret. No one’s was a secret. “We’ve got hopes to marry her up, though I don’t think we can manage a Two. But she’s got her fingers crossed and is working hard, just in case.”

I didn’t ask about his plans. Sometimes these things involved men looking for trophies. Sometimes they involved exchanging high sums of money—though less than what it would actually cost to purchase a new caste. And, on the rare occasion, it involved love. I didn’t think that was the case with his daughter, and I really didn’t care.

“Well then, let me add a special little note for her.” I scrawled
“Hold on to your dreams!”
over the page, making sure
not to cover myself with ink, then signed my name grandly at the bottom. “Here you go. Tell her I said good luck.”

“I will! And the same to you,” he wished as I exited the car.

Luck was fine and well, but I didn’t need it. I had a plan.

I pulled down my sunglasses and rearranged the daisy in my hair. This was where it all began for me—this was my first opportunity to show the other girls they were looking at their future queen.

I knew the competition, and I was the only Two who had any sort of clout coming into this. Some of the others might have more money, but I already had an adoring public, something the monarchy could not overlook. And anyone below a Two? Well, she was wasting everyone’s time.

I pulled open the door and sauntered into the airport. The other girls were easy enough to spot with their dark pants and white shirts, so I made a direct line for them. Behind my sunglasses I could see that coming in strong was already working. Ashley the Three looked brokenhearted by my mere presence, and Marlee the Four seemed equally dazed. Oh, and there was the Five! America. I knew she’d be in my group since we were coming to Carolina, but I was surprised. She looked pretty polished.

I felt certain she’d be amusing to watch. There was absolutely no way a bumpkin like her was going to make it through the first day alone without humiliating herself, all done up or not.

“Hello,” Marlee greeted, though it sounded more like a question.

I pulled off my sunglasses and gave her a once-over. Pretty enough, but her hair seemed thin. And if her eyes always looked that worried, she would be gone within a week.

“When do we leave?”

“We don’t know,” America replied, her tone surprisingly sharp considering she was talking to a superior. “You’ve been holding up the show.”

I took her in as well. I wished I could have called her ugly, but she was even prettier in person than in her picture. And she wasn’t a wilting flower, which might actually do her some good in this situation. Maybe she’d be less entertaining than I thought.

“Sorry, quite a few people wanted to see me off,” I answered. Undoubtedly she was trying to remember where she’d seen my face before. Reminding her I had fans might jog her memory. “I couldn’t help it.”

She didn’t seem to recognize me. Oh, well.

The pilot showed up, and I won him over instantly. I didn’t need these pathetic girls’ approval, but I definitely intended to get everyone else’s.

We boarded the plane, and it was rather obvious that America had never flown before. I doubted she even had a car. I watched as Ashley pulled out paper, already documenting her experience, and Marlee buddied up with America instantly. For all the luxury in my life, it was hard
to compete with a royal private plane, and I wanted to gush to someone about the leather seats and the delicious champagne. There was a phone by my chair, so I could have called someone. But who? My harebrained mother? My agent? My manicurist who spoke in broken English?

There was no one.

I pulled the eye mask on and pretended to sleep. Besides, I was looking tired, and maybe the rest would do me good.

I lay there, fantasizing about life at the palace. I would make a spectacular princess. I mean, put Maxon and me side by side, and we were nearly a replica of his parents. How gorgeous would we all look in photos together? I could see it coming together. In my head, I batted my lashes and looked at the prince playfully from behind a fan, making him fall for me a little more each day.

“Celeste, on the other hand . . . ,” someone whispered.

Without moving, I tuned my ears to the conversation.

“I know. It’s only been an hour, and I’m already looking forward to her going home.”

I recognized that as America’s voice, so the laugh that followed must have belonged to Marlee.

“I don’t want to talk badly about anyone, but she’s so aggressive.” Yes, I am. Thank you for noticing. “And Maxon’s not even around yet. I’m a little nervous about her.”

I suppressed a smile, pleased with myself. I felt bad for the other girls, but they would simply have to go. I was born for this. I needed it.

“Don’t be,” America replied calmly. “Girls like that? They’ll take themselves out of the competition.”

My smile immediately faded. What did she mean? I was going to be the paragon of competitors. Beautiful, famous, wealthy . . . I’d be surprised if I wasn’t Maxon’s first date.

I’d told myself I wouldn’t let these girls get under my skin. My intention was to stay aloof and focus all my attentions on the prince. But I was starting to wonder if I needed a secondary plan . . . something that would keep the others aware of just how little they were. I kept my eyes hidden away, and I schemed.