Happily Ever After (26 page)
Read Happily Ever After Online
Authors: Kiera Cass
Following her loss in the Selection, Kriss returned to Columbia to start over. She left the palace feeling upset about coming in second, but the impact didn’t fully hit her until Maxon and America’s wedding. She kept a brave face for the whole day, posing for pictures and dancing with guests, but she returned home deeply depressed.
For more than a month Kriss stayed inside, analyzing her steps and trying to figure out what she could have done differently. She had regrets over giving away her first kiss and couldn’t stop thinking she was truly meant to be queen. She only rejoined society at her parents’ insistence, working alongside her father at the local university as an assistant in the Communications Department.
At first she hated her position. People came up to her frequently asking to get a picture with “that girl from the Selection,” completely unaware of how much that label
stung. She took multiple sick days early on, unable to handle being in public. More often than not, Kriss would go to the library, doing her work in the most isolated parts of the building. She feared this would be her whole life, and she wasn’t sure she would ever again be seen as someone other than the girl Maxon almost picked.
About six months after she began working at the university, a welcome home party was thrown for a professor who’d spent more than a year collecting plant samples in the jungles of Honduragua. An enthusiastic botanist, Professor Elliot Piaria was praised for his drive and skill, especially at such a young age. Kriss hadn’t wanted to go to the party but was fine after she saw she wasn’t anything close to the center of attention that day. And she was pleased to meet the professor, particularly when they were introduced and his first question was “What do you teach?” Having been away from nearly any source of technology for its entire duration, Elliot had no knowledge of the Selection, and Kriss’s naturally mature demeanor didn’t hint that she was seven years his junior.
The two crossed paths frequently, and Elliot continually asked Kriss why she wasn’t teaching, convinced her intellect was better suited for a classroom than a cubicle. She lit up under his attention, taking it more to heart than he could ever have guessed.
Elliot was attracted to Kriss, and she liked that he was one of the few people who saw her as herself and not a former Selection candidate. She grew more and more confident,
returning to her cheerful self; and they began dating shortly after Kriss got a position teaching math, a placement she wasn’t thrilled about except for the fact she was teaching.
She was hesitant to let herself fall for Elliot, fearing she would get hurt again. Elliot, however, was endlessly charmed by her and proposed to her spontaneously when he caught her in a particularly happy mood. Elliot wanted to move quickly, fearing Kriss would change her mind if he waited. They were married within a month of his proposal, and after the wedding, Kriss finally settled into the realization that Elliot loved her for herself and had no intention of ever being separated from her.
They stayed in Columbia, though Elliot’s curious nature ended up taking them to the edges of Illéa in search of new things to study. They had no children but did end up raising several pets, many of them exotic, which they also studied.
After being dismissed from the Selection, Natalie went home to comfort her family over the loss of her sister, Lacey. Natalie had never really experienced hardship before, and this was almost too big a trial for her family to endure. Her parents nearly divorced shortly after Lacey’s death, unable to deal with such a horrific loss; but Natalie managed to comfort them, reminding them often of their late daughter’s joyful nature and telling them the last thing Lacey would have wanted was for them to part ways because of her. There was plenty of truth to that statement. Many of Natalie’s and Lacey’s friends came from broken homes, and they both feared the same fate growing up, even though their parents never fought.
Natalie considered it a great triumph that she became her parents’ glue and knew that Lacey would have been proud as well. It was after that when Natalie realized she should
be happier herself. Natalie’s shortcomings in the academic department had been criticized over the years, but Lacey had always reminded her that she was unique and beautiful just the way she was.
By the time Maxon and America’s wedding rolled around, she was back to her old ways and was possibly the highlight of the reception, dancing as wildly as she could, completely encouraged by America. Natalie wasn’t too heartbroken not to be the new princess. Seeing America’s folded hands and taller posture made her realize that she really didn’t like the rules that kind of life imposed anyway. She wanted to be herself at all costs.
After the commotion around the Selection died down, Natalie worked in her family’s jewelry shop, learning more about design. Her naturally whimsical personality made her great at coming up with designs, and with hard work, she mastered the mechanics of the actual creation process with her father.
About two years after the Selection ended, she launched her own jewelry line, and her fame from the competition gained her lots of attention from celebrity clientele. Actresses and musicians wore her pieces often, not to mention her dear friend, the queen of Illéa. Beautiful and effervescent, Natalie married an actor and became a Two before the caste system died out. Not long after, they divorced, as Natalie’s carefree nature didn’t suit married life and she was much happier on her own. As someone who had always hated divorce so fiercely but couldn’t bear the confines of the relationship, it was a very
confusing time for her. She ultimately came to peace with her decision. Since she was now a Two, she tried out for a few movies, landing several supporting roles in comedies. It was debated how much of her performance was acting.
Natalie spoke with America occasionally, but the person from her Selection days who she communicated with the most was Elise. Even though their friendship was long distance for the rest of their lives, their different personalities meshed well, and they always got together for life’s biggest moments.
Elise wore her loss of the Selection as if she had been publicly shamed, and after the violent attack on the day of the engagement announcement, she could never bring herself to set foot in the palace again, not even for Maxon and America’s wedding.
What Elise didn’t know was that the war with New Asia was mostly for show. It began over a minor trade issue and was amplified and perpetuated by King Clarkson. He kept the war going so that the public would focus less on issues at home, and he manipulated the draft as a means of keeping the lower castes and potential rebels in check. Maxon had realized something was off shortly before the Selection began, and his visit to New Asia confirmed his suspicions. Battles were staged in poorer areas, as the president of New Asia sought to protect the larger and more necessary cities, fearing Clarkson’s ability to crush them. Thousands died on
both sides defending nothing.
Elise thought her alliance was much more valuable to the crown than it ever really was and assumed her marriage to Maxon would bring a peace that his father never intended to allow. But Maxon had begun quietly planning for a way to end the dispute as soon as he returned from that fateful trip, and shortly after his reign began, he drew up a truce between the two countries and enlisted Elise as an ambassador. She considered it an honor to serve her country and family in this way and agreed to go.
On one of her many trips, she had a public meeting with the head of a company that was using a portion of its profits to rejuvenate the areas most depleted by the war. The son of the CEO was enchanted by Elise’s mastery of etiquette, languages, and books, not to mention her beauty. He kept in contact, eventually asking her family for her hand. They agreed enthusiastically, knowing this young man would inherit a fortune and had a solid standing in New Asia’s society.
Elise’s joy at pleasing her family surpassed her worries over marrying someone she’d only met a few times, and she trusted her family’s judgment. She moved to New Asia, not caring whether she would find happiness with her new husband. To her complete surprise, she did. He was incredibly generous with her, patient in waiting for her affection to grow, and absolutely doting on her when she became pregnant.
She remained poised in her interactions with her family, but whenever she could get in contact with Natalie, she gushed over her kind and handsome husband. Elise had two
boys, who became the pride and joy of her husband and family. She was in love and happy, accomplishing more than she had ever hoped she could, and never mourning losing her chance to become a princess.
She will risk everything for love.
Read on for a sneak peek at this
sweeping fantasy romance from Kiera Cass!
I
T
’
S FUNNY WHAT YOU HOLD
on to, the things you remember when everything ends. I can still picture the paneling on the walls of our stateroom and recall precisely how plush the carpet was. I remember the saltwater smell, permeating the air and sticking to my skin, and the sound of my brothers’ laughter in the other room, like the storm was an exciting adventure instead of a nightmare.
More than any sense of fear or worry, there was an air of irritation hanging in the room. The storm was throwing off our evening’s plans; there would be no dancing on the upper deck tonight. These were the woes that plagued my life, so insignificant they’re almost shameful to own up to. But that was my once upon a time, back when my reality felt like a story for how good it was.
“If this rocking doesn’t stop soon, I won’t have time to fix my hair before dinner,” Mama complained. I peeked at her from where I was lying on the floor, trying desperately not to throw up. Mama looked as glamorous as a movie star, and her finger waves seemed perfect to me. But she was never satisfied. “You ought to get up,” she continued, glancing down at me. “What if the help comes in?”
I hobbled over to one of the chaise lounges, doing—as always—what I was told, though I didn’t think this position was necessarily any more ladylike. Our journey up until that final day was utterly ordinary, just a family trip from point A to point B. I can’t remember now where we were heading.
What I do recall is that we were, as per usual, traveling in style. We were one of the few lucky families who had survived the Crash with our wealth intact—and Mama liked to make sure people knew it. So we were situated in a beautiful suite with decent-sized windows and personal stewards at our beck and call. I was entertaining the idea of ringing for one and asking for a bucket.
It was then, in that bleary haze of sickness, that I heard something. It sounded like a far-off lullaby that made me curious and, somehow, thirsty. I lifted my head and saw Mama’s head turn as well, searching for the sound. The music was intoxicatingly beautiful, like a hymn to the devout.
Papa leaned into the room. “Is that the band?” he asked. His tone was calm, but the desperation in his eyes was haunting.
“Maybe. It sounds like it’s coming from outside, doesn’t it?” Mama was suddenly breathless and eager. “Let’s go see.” She hopped up and grabbed her sweater. I was shocked. She hated being in the rain.
“But Mama, your makeup. You just said—”
“Oh, that,” she said, brushing me off and shrugging her arms into an ivory cardigan. “We’ll only be gone a moment. I’ll have time to fix it when we get back.”
“I think I’ll stay.” I was just as drawn to the music as the rest of them, but the clammy feeling on my face reminded me how close I was to being sick. I curled up a little tighter, resisting the overwhelming urge to stand up and follow.
Mama turned back and met my eyes. “I’d feel better with
you by my side,” she said with a smile.
Those were my mother’s last words to me.
Even as I opened my mouth to protest, I found myself standing up and crossing the cabin to follow her. It wasn’t just about obeying anymore. I had to get up on deck. I had to be closer to the song. If I had stayed in our room, I probably would have been trapped and gone down with the ship. Then I could have joined my family. In heaven or hell, or in nowhere, if it was all a lie. But no.
We went up the stairs, joined along the way by scores of other passengers. It was then I knew something was wrong. Some were rushing, fighting their way through the masses while others looked like they were sleepwalking.
I stepped out into the thrashing rain, pausing just beyond the threshold to take in the scene. I pressed my hands over my ears to shut out the crashing thunder and hypnotic music, trying to get my bearings. Two men shot past me and jumped overboard without even pausing. But the storm wasn’t so bad we needed to abandon ship, was it?
I looked to my youngest brother and saw him lapping up the rain, like a wildcat clawing at raw meat. When someone near him tried to do the same, they scrapped with each other, fighting over the drops. I backed away, turning to search for my middle brother. I never found him. He was lost in the crowd surging toward the railings, gone before I could make sense of what I was witnessing.
Then I saw my parents, hand in hand, their backs against
the railing, casually tipping themselves overboard. They smiled. I screamed.
What was happening? Had the world gone mad?
A note caught my ear and I dropped my hands. The song was suddenly the only thing I cared about. My worries faded away. It did seem like it would be better to be in the water, embraced by the waves instead of pelted by rain. It sounded delicious. I needed to drink it. I needed to fill my stomach, my heart, my lungs with it.
With that sole desire pulsing through me, I walked toward the rail. It would be a pleasure to drink myself full until every last piece of me was sated. I was barely aware of hoisting myself over the side, barely aware of anything, until the hard smack of water on my face brought me back to my senses.
I was going to die.
No!
I thought as I fought to get back to the surface.
I’m not ready! I want to live!
Nineteen years was not enough. There were still so many foods to taste and places to visit. A husband, I hoped, and a family. All of it, everything, gone in an instant.
Really?
I didn’t have time to doubt the reality of the voice I was hearing.
Yes!
What would you give to stay alive?
Anything!
In an instant, I was dragged out of the fray. It was as if an arm was looped around my waist, pulling with precision as I shot past body after body until I was free of them. I soon
found myself lying on a hard surface and staring up at three inhumanly lovely girls.
For a moment, all the horror and confusion disappeared. There was no storm, no family, no fear. All that ever had been or ever would be were these beautiful, perfect faces. I squinted, studying them.
“Are you angels?” I asked. “Am I dead?”
The closest girl, who had eyes greener than anything I’d seen before and brilliant red hair billowing around her face, bent down. “No. You’re very much alive,” she promised.
I gaped at her. If I was still alive, wouldn’t I be feeling the scratch of salt down my throat? Wouldn’t my eyes be burning from the water? Wouldn’t I still be feeling the sting on my face from where I fell? Yet I felt perfect, complete.
In the distance, I could hear screams. I lifted my head, and just over the waves I spotted the tail of our ship as it bobbed surreally out of the water.
I took several ragged breaths, too confused to grasp how I was still breathing, all the while listening to others drown around me.
“What do you remember?” she asked.
I shook my head. “The carpet.” I searched my memories, already feeling them becoming distant and blurry. “And my mother’s hair,” I said, my voice cracking. “Then I was in the water.”
“Did you ask to live?”
“I did,” I sputtered, wondering if she could read my mind or if everyone else had thought it, too. “Who are you?”
“I’m Marilyn,” she replied sweetly. “This is Aisling.” She pointed to a blond girl who gave me a small, warm smile. “And that is Nombeko.” Nombeko was as dark as the night sky and appeared to have nearly no hair at all.
“We’re singers. Sirens. Servants to the Ocean,” Marilyn explained. “We help Her. We . . . feed Her.”
I squinted. “What would the ocean eat?”
Marilyn glanced in the direction of the sinking ship, and I followed her gaze. Almost all the voices were quiet now.
Oh.
“It is our duty, and soon it could be yours as well. If you give your time to Her, She will give you life. From this day forward, for the next hundred years, you won’t get sick or hurt, and you won’t grow a day older. When your time is up, you’ll get your voice and your freedom back. You’ll get to live.”
“I—I’m sorry,” I stammered. “I don’t understand.”
The others smiled, but their eyes looked sad. “It would be impossible to understand now,” Marilyn said. She ran her hand over my hair, already treating me as if I was one of her own. “I assure you, none of us did. But you will.”
Carefully, I got to my feet, shocked to see that I was standing on water. There were still a few people afloat in the distance, flapping at the current like they might be able to save themselves.
“My mother is there,” I pleaded. Nombeko sighed, her eyes wistful.
Marilyn wrapped her arm around me, looking toward the wreckage. She whispered in my ear. “You have two choices:
you may remain with us or you may join your mother.
Join
her. Not save her.”
I stayed silent. Could there be truth to her words? Could I choose to die? If this was real, could I do what she was suggesting?
“You said you’d give anything to live,” she reminded me. “Please mean it.”
I saw the hope in her eyes. She didn’t want me to go. Perhaps she’d seen enough death for one day.
I nodded. I’d stay.
She pulled me close and breathed into my ear. “Welcome to the sisterhood of sirens.”
I was whipped underwater, something cold forced into my veins. And, though it frightened me, it hardly hurt at all.