The Heir (3 page)

“I
WANT TO BE CLEAR
,” I said, sitting down in Dad’s office. “I have no desire to get married.”

He nodded. “I understand that you don’t want to get married today, but it was always something you’d have to do, Eadlyn. You’re obligated to continue the royal line.”

I hated it when he talked about my future like that, like sex and love and babies weren’t happy things but duties performed to keep the country running. It took every speck of joy out of the prospect.

Of all the things in my life, shouldn’t those be the real pleasures, the best parts?

I shook the worry away and focused on the task at hand.

“I understand. And I agree that it’s important,” I replied diplomatically. “But weren’t you ever worried when you went through your Selection that no one in the pool was right for
you? Or that maybe they were there for the wrong reason?”

His lips hitched up in a smile. “Every waking moment, and half the time I slept.”

He’d told me a handful of vague stories about one girl who’d been so pliable he could hardly stand her and another who had tried to manipulate the process at every turn. I didn’t know many names or details, and that was fine with me. I had never liked to imagine Dad possibly falling in love with anyone but Mom.

“And don’t you think that as the first woman to fully control the crown, there should be . . . some standards set for who might rule beside me?”

He tilted his head. “Go on.”

“I’m sure there’s some sort of vetting process in place to make sure an actual psychopath doesn’t make his way into the palace, yes?”

“Of course.” He grinned as if this wasn’t a valid concern.

“But I don’t trust just anyone to do this job with me. So”—I sighed deeply—“I will agree to go through with this ridiculous stunt if you make me a few tiny promises.”

“It’s not a stunt. It’s had an excellent track record. But please, dear girl, tell me what you want.”

“First, I want the contestants to have the freedom to leave of their own free will. I won’t have someone feeling obligated to stay if they don’t care for me or the life they’d have to lead in the palace.”

“I fully agree to that,” he said forcefully. Seemed like I had touched a nerve.

“Excellent. And I know you might be opposed to the idea, but if by the end of this I can’t find anyone suitable, then we call the whole thing off. No prince, no wedding.”

“Ah!” he said, leaning forward in his chair and pointing a calculating finger at me. “If I allow that, you’ll turn them all away the first day. You won’t even try!”

I paused, thinking. “What if I guaranteed you a timeline? I would keep the Selection running for, say, three months and weigh my options for at least that amount of time. After then, if I haven’t found a suitable match, all the contestants are released.”

He ran his hand across his mouth and shifted in his chair a little before pressing his eyes into mine. “Eadlyn, you know how important this is, don’t you?”

“Of course,” I replied instantly, very aware of how serious this was. I sensed one wrong move would set my life on a course I could never correct.

“You need to do this and do it well. For everyone’s sake. Our lives, all of them, are given over in service to our people.”

I looked away. If anything, it felt like Mom, Dad, and I were the trinity of sacrifice here, with the others doing as they pleased.

“I won’t let you down,” I promised. “You do what you must. Make your plans, find a way to appease our public, and I will give you an acceptable window of time to pull it all together.”

His eyes darted toward the ceiling in thought. “Three months? And you swear you’ll try?”

I held up my hand. “I give you my word. I’ll even sign something if you like, but I can’t promise you I’ll fall in love.”

“Wouldn’t be so sure if I was you,” he said knowingly. But I wasn’t him, and I wasn’t Mom. No matter how romantic he thought this was, all I could think of were the thirty-five loud, obnoxious, weird-smelling boys who were about to invade my home. Nothing about that sounded magical.

“It’s a deal.”

I stood, practically ready to dance. “Really?”

“Really.”

I took his hand and sealed my future with a single shake. “Thank you, Dad.”

I left the room before he could see how big my smile was. I had already been running through how I could get most of the boys to leave of their own volition. I could be intimidating when I needed to be or find ways to make the palace a very unwelcoming environment. I also had a secret weapon in Osten, who was the most mischievous of us all and would help me if I asked him to, probably with minimal persuasion.

I admired the thought of a common boy feeling brave enough to face the challenge of becoming a prince. But no one was going to tie me down before I was ready, and I was going to make sure those poor suckers knew what they were signing up for.

They kept the studio cold, but once the lights came on, we might as well have been in an oven for all the good it did. I’d
learned years ago to keep my clothing choices for the
Report
airy, which was why my dress tonight fell off my shoulders. My look was classy, as always, but not something that would subject me to a heatstroke.

“That’s the perfect dress,” Mom commented, pulling at the little ruffles on the sleeves. “You look lovely.”

“Thank you. So do you.”

She smiled as she continued to straighten my dress. “Thank you, sweetheart. I know you’re feeling a little overwhelmed, but I think a Selection will be good for everyone. You’re alone a lot, and it’s something we would have to think about eventually, and—”

“And it will make the people happy. I know.”

I tried to hide the misery in my voice. We had technically moved past selling off the royal daughters, but . . . this didn’t feel that different. Didn’t she get that?

Her eyes moved from the gown to my face. Something in them told me she was sorry.

“I know you feel like this is a sacrifice; and it’s true that when you live a life of service, there are many things you do, not because you want to, but because you must.” She swallowed. “But through this I found your father, and I found my closest friends, and I learned that I was stronger than I ever thought I could be. I know about the agreement you made with your dad, and if this ends without you finding the right person, so be it. But please, let yourself experience something here. Sharpen yourself, learn something. And try not to hate us for asking you to do it.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“You at least considered it when we proposed this,” she said with a grin. “Didn’t you?”

“I’m eighteen. I’m genetically encoded to fight with my parents.”

“I don’t mind a good fight so long as you still know how much I love you in the end.”

I reached to hug her. “And I love you. Promise.”

She held me for a moment, then pulled away, smoothing my dress to make sure I was still immaculate before she went to find Dad. I walked to take my seat next to Ahren, who wiggled his eyebrows at me teasingly. “Looking good, sis. Practically bridal.”

I swung my skirt and sat down gracefully. “One more word and I will shave your head in your sleep.”

“I love you, too.”

I tried not to smile but failed. He just always knew.

The room filled with the palace household. Miss Lucy sat alone, as General Leger was on rounds, and Mr. and Mrs. Woodwork sat behind the cameras with Kile and Josie. They were the Woodworks’ only children, and I knew Miss Marlee meant the world to Mom, so I kept it to myself that I thought her kids were the absolute worst. Kile wasn’t as obnoxious as Josie, but, in all the years I’d known him, he’d never made anything remotely close to an interesting conversation. So help me, if I ever got a bad case of insomnia, I’d hire him to sit in my room and talk. Problem solved. And Josie . . . I didn’t have words for how wretched that girl was.

Dad’s advisers filed in, bowing as they came. There was only one woman in Dad’s cabinet, Lady Brice Mannor. She was lovely and petite, and I was never sure how someone so demure managed to stay afloat in the political arena. I’d never heard her raise her voice or get angry, but people listened to her. The men didn’t listen to me unless I was stern.

Her presence made me curious though. What would happen if I, as queen, made my entire board of counselors women?

That might be an interesting experiment.

The chairmen and advisers delivered their announcements and updates, and finally, Gavril turned to me.

Gavril Fadaye had slicked-back silver hair but a very handsome face. He’d been talking recently about retirement, but after an announcement this big, he’d have to stick around a bit longer.

“Tonight, Illéa, to conclude our program, we have some very exciting news. And there is no one better to deliver it than our future queen, the beautiful Eadlyn Schreave.”

He swept his hand grandly in my direction, and I smiled widely as I walked across the carpeted stage to polite applause.

Gavril gave me a quick embrace and a kiss on each cheek. “Princess Eadlyn, welcome.”

“Thanks, Gavril.”

“Now, I have to be honest. It feels like only yesterday I was announcing the birth of you and your brother Ahren. I can’t believe it’s been more than eighteen years!”

“It’s true. We’re all grown up.” I looked toward my family, sharing a warm gaze.

“You’re on the edge of making history. I think all of Illéa is eager to see what you’ll do a few years down the road when you become queen.”

“That’ll certainly be an exciting time, but I’m not sure I want to wait that long to make history.” I gave him a playful nudge with my elbow, and he mocked surprise.

“Why don’t you tell us what you have in mind, Your Highness?”

I squared my shoulders in front of camera C and smiled. “Our great country has gone through many changes over the years. In my parents’ lifetimes alone we’ve seen the rebel forces within our country practically run into extinction, and though we still face challenges, the caste system no longer divides our people along imaginary lines. We live in an era of extraordinary freedom, and we wait with anticipation to see our nation become everything it possibly can.”

I remembered to smile and speak articulately. Years of lessons on how to address an audience had drilled the proper technique into me, and I knew I was hitting every last point I was meant to as I delivered my announcement.

“And that’s great . . . but I’m still an eighteen-year-old girl.” The small audience of guests and advisers giggled. “It gets a little boring when you spend the majority of the day in an office with your dad. No offense, Your Majesty,” I added, turning to Dad.

“None taken,” he called back.

“And so I’ve decided it’s time for a change of pace. It’s time to search, not just for someone to be a coworker with me in this very demanding job, but for a partner to walk with me through life. To do that, I’m hoping Illéa will indulge my deepest wish: to have a Selection.”

The advisers gasped and muttered. I saw the shocked faces of the staff. It became clear that the only person who was already in on this was Gavril, which surprised me.

“Tomorrow, letters will be sent to all the eligible young men in Illéa. You’ll have two weeks to decide whether you would like to compete for my hand. I realize, of course, that this is uncharted territory. We’ve never had a female-run Selection before. Still, even though I have three brothers, I’m very excited to meet another prince of Illéa. And I’m hoping that all of Illéa will celebrate with me.”

I gave a small curtsy and retreated to my seat. Mom and Dad were beaming proudly at me, and I tried to tell myself that their reaction was enough, though I felt like my blood was trembling in my veins. I couldn’t help but think I’d missed something, that there was a gaping hole in the net I’d set up to catch myself.

But there was nothing I could do. I’d just thrown myself off the ledge.

I
KNEW WE HAD AN
arsenal of staff working at the palace, but I was convinced the majority of them had been in hiding until today. As the announcement of this unexpected Selection spread, it wasn’t simply the maids and butlers running around in preparation, but people I’d never even seen before.

My daily workload of reading reports and sitting in on meetings shifted as I became the focal point of the Selection preparations.

“This is slightly less expensive, Your Highness, but it is still incredibly comfortable and would work well with the existing decor.” A man held out a very large swatch of fabric, which he draped over the previous two options.

I touched it, enchanted by the texture of cloth as I usually was, though this was clearly not intended to be worn.

“I’m not sure I understand why we’re doing this,” I confessed.

The man, one of the palace decorators, pressed his lips together. “It has been suggested that some of the guest rooms are a bit feminine and that your suitors might be more comfortable in something like this,” he said, pulling out yet another option. “We can make a room look entirely different with a simple bedspread,” he assured me.

“Fine,” I said, thinking it was a little unnecessary to get this worked up over some sheets. “But do I need to make this decision?”

He smiled kindly. “Your fingerprints will be all over this Selection, miss. Even if you don’t choose, people will assume you did. We might as well get your authority on all things.”

I stared at the fabric, more than a little exhausted thinking about how all these silly details would point back to me. “This one.” I chose the least-expensive option. It was a deep green and would be perfectly acceptable for a three-month stay.

“Very wise, Your Highness,” the decorator complimented. “Now, should we consider adding new art as well?” He clapped his hands, and a stream of maids walked in carrying paintings. I sighed, knowing my afternoon was lost.

The following morning I was summoned to the dining hall. Mom came with me, but Dad couldn’t be pulled away from his work.

A man I assumed was our head chef bowed to us, not able to go very low because of his wide stomach. His face
was closer to red than white, but he didn’t sweat, which made me think that all the years in the kitchen had simply steamed him.

“Thank you for joining us, Your Majesty, Your Highness. The kitchen staff has been working day and night to find appropriate options for the first dinner once your suitors arrive. We want to serve seven courses, obviously.”

“Of course!” Mom replied.

The chef smiled at her. “Naturally, we would like your approval for the final menu.”

I groaned internally. A true seven-course meal could take six hours from the first sip of a cocktail to the final bite of chocolate. How long would it take to sample several different options for each course?

About eight hours, it turned out, and I had a dreadful stomachache for the rest of the day, which made me less than enthusiastic when someone came asking about music selections for the evening of the first dinner.

The hallways were like crowded streets, and every corner of the palace was noisy with speedy preparations. I endured it as best I could until Dad stopped me in passing one day.

“We were thinking about making a special room for the Selected. What do you think about—”

“Enough!” I sighed, exasperated. “I don’t care. I have no idea what a boy would like in a recreational space, so I suggest you ask someone with some testosterone. And as for me, I’ll be in the garden.”

Dad could tell I was near a breaking point, and he let
me pass without a fight. I was thankful for the momentary respite.

I lay on my stomach in my bikini on a blanket in the open stretch of grass that spread out just before the forest. I wished, as I had so many times before, that we had a pool. I was pretty good at getting my way, but Dad never budged on the pool issue. When the palace was mine, that was the first thing on the agenda.

I sketched dresses in my book, trying to relax. As the sun warmed me, the quick scratch of my pencil blended with the sound of rustling leaves, making a lovely, tranquil song. I mourned the loss of peace in my life.
Three months,
I recited.
Three months, and then everything goes back to normal
.

A piercing laugh polluted the stillness of the garden. “Josie,” I muttered to myself. Shading my eyes, I turned and saw her walking toward me. She was with one of her friends, an upper-class girl she’d chosen to associate with specifically because the company in the palace wasn’t enough for her.

I closed my book, hiding my designs, and turned onto my back simply to take in the sun.

“It will be a good experience for everyone,” I heard Josie remark to her friend. “I don’t get to interact with boys very often, so it’ll be nice to have an opportunity to talk to some. One day, when my wedding is arranged, I’d like to be able to carry on a conversation.”

I rolled my eyes. If I thought I’d have the slightest attachment to these boys, it would have bothered me that she thought they were here for her. Then again, Josie thought
everything existed for her. And the idea that she was so important that her marriage would need to be arranged on her behalf was comical. She could marry anyone off the street and no one would care one way or the other.

“I hope I’ll be able to visit during the Selection,” her friend replied. “It’ll be so fun!”

“Of course, Shannon! I’ll make sure all my friends get to come often. It’ll be valuable for you as well.”

How kind of her to offer up my home and events as learning opportunities for her little buddies. I took a deep breath. I needed to focus on relaxing.

“Eadlyn!” Josie cried, spotting me.

I groaned, then raised a hand to acknowledge her, hoping the silence would convey my wish for privacy.

“How excited are you for the Selection?” she yelled, continuing over.

I wasn’t going to holler like a farmhand, so I said nothing. Eventually, Josie and her friend were standing above me, blocking the sun.

“Didn’t you hear me, Eadlyn? Aren’t you excited for the Selection?”

Josie never addressed me properly.

“Of course.”

“Me, too! I think it’ll be exciting to have all the company.”

“You won’t have any company,” I reminded her. “These boys are
my
guests.”

She tipped her head like I was stating the obvious. “I
know! But it’ll still be nice to have more people around.”

“Josie, how old are you?”

“Fifteen,” she answered proudly.

“I thought so. If you really want to, I’m sure you could get out and meet people of your own accord now. You’re certainly old enough.”

She smiled. “I don’t think so. That’s not exactly appropriate.”

I didn’t want to get into this argument again.
I
was the one who couldn’t pick up and leave the palace without warning. Security sweeps, proper announcements, and protocol reviews were all necessary before I could even consider it.

Also, I constantly had to be aware of the company I kept. I couldn’t be seen with just anyone. An unflattering picture wasn’t simply taken; it was documented, stored, and resurrected whenever the newspapers needed to criticize me. I had to be relentlessly on my toes to avoid anything that could possibly tarnish my image, my family’s image, or the country at large.

Josie was a commoner. She didn’t have any such restrictions.

Not that it stopped her from acting like she did.

“Well, at least you have some company for today, then. If you two don’t mind, I’m trying to rest.”

“Certainly, Your Highness.” Her friend bowed her head. Okay, she wasn’t too bad.

“I’ll see you at dinner!” Josie was a little too enthusiastic about it.

I tried to lull myself back into relaxation, but Josie’s piercing voice kept finding its way over to me, and I eventually scooped up my blanket and sketches, and headed inside. If I couldn’t enjoy myself here, I might as well figure out something else to do.

After being so exposed to the bright Angeles sun, the palace halls looked like twilight as I waited for my eyes to adjust. I blinked hard, trying to make out the face of the person coming toward me. It was Osten, carrying two notebooks as he rushed down the hall.

He shoved the books into my arms. “Hide these in your room, okay? And if anyone asks, you haven’t seen me.”

As quickly as he appeared, he vanished. I sighed, knowing that even attempting to comprehend would be pointless. I sometimes couldn’t stand the pressure placed on me from being born first, but thank goodness it was me and not Osten. Every time I tried to imagine him at the helm, it gave me a headache.

I flipped through the notebooks, curious as to what he was plotting. Turned out they weren’t his at all. They were Josie’s. I recognized her babyish handwriting, and, if that hadn’t given it away, the sheets of her and Ahren’s names in hearts made it all too obvious. It wasn’t just Ahren’s name though. A few pages later she was in love with all four members of Choosing Yesterday, a popular band, and just after that it was some actor. Anyone with any sort of clout would do, it seemed.

I decided to set the books on the floor by the doors to the
garden. Whatever Osten had planned, there was no way it would be as distressing as her stumbling across them when she came inside, with no clue as to how they’d gotten there or who had seen them.

For someone who prided herself on being so close to the royal family, she really should have learned a lesson or two in discretion by now.

When I got to my room, Neena was at the ready, grabbing my blanket to place in the wash. I threw something on, not really in the mood to think about my outfit too much today. As I was about to fix my hair, I noticed some files on the table.

“Lady Brice dropped those off for you,” Neena said.

I stared at the folders. Though it was my first piece of actual work in a week, I couldn’t be bothered. “I’ll get to them later,” I promised, knowing that I probably wouldn’t. I’d maybe look at them tomorrow. Today was mine.

I pinned back my hair, double-checked my makeup, and went to look for Mom. I could use the company, and I felt pretty confident that she wouldn’t ask me to pick out furniture or food.

I found her alone in the Women’s Room. A plaque beside the door declared that the space was actually titled the Newsome Library, but I’d never heard anyone call it by that name except for Mom on occasion. It was the space where the women congregated, so the original label seemed more practical, I supposed.

I could tell Mom was in there before I even opened the
door because I heard her playing the piano, and her sound was unmistakable. She loved to tell the story of how Dad made her pick out four brand-new pianos, each with various attributes, after they were married. They were placed all over the palace. One was in her suite, a second in Dad’s, one here, and another in a largely unused parlor on the fourth floor.

I was still jealous of how easy she made it look. I remembered her warning me that one day time would take the dexterity out of her hands, and she’d only be able to plunk away at one or two keys at a time. So far time had failed.

I tried to be quiet, but she heard me all the same.

“Hello, darling,” she called, pulling her fingers away from the keys. “Come sit with me.”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt.” I walked across the room, settling next to her on the bench.

“You didn’t. I was clearing my head, and I feel much better now.”

“Is something wrong?”

She smiled distractedly and rubbed her hand over my back. “No. Just the everyday wear and tear of the job.”

“I know what you mean,” I said, running my fingers along the keys, not actually making any sound.

“I keep thinking that I’ve gotten to a point where I’ve seen it all, where I’ve mastered everything about being queen. No sooner do I think it than everything changes. There are . . . Well, you have enough to worry about today. Let’s not bother with it.”

With some work she pasted a smile back onto her face, and while I wanted to know what was troubling her—because, in the end, all those troubles also fell on me—she was right. I simply couldn’t deal with it today.

It seemed she hardly could either.

“Do you ever regret it?” I asked, seeing the sadness in her eyes despite her efforts. “Entering the Selection and ending up queen?”

I was grateful she didn’t just immediately say yes or no but actually considered the question.

“I don’t regret marrying your father. I sometimes wonder about the life I would have had without the Selection, or if I had still come to the palace but lost. I think I would have been fine. Not unhappy exactly, but not aware of what else there could have been for me. But the path to him was a difficult one, mostly because I didn’t want to walk it.”

“At all?”

She shook her head. “It wasn’t my idea to enter the Selection.”

My mouth fell open. She’d never told me that. “Whose was it?”

“That’s not important,” she answered quickly. “But I can tell you that I understand your reservations. I think the process will teach you a lot about yourself. I hope you’ll trust me on this.”

“It’d be a lot easier to trust you if I knew you were doing this for me and not to buy yourself some peace.” The words came out sharper than I meant them to.

She took a deep breath. “I know you think this is selfish, but you’ll see. One day the welfare of the country will be on your shoulders, and you’ll be surprised at what you’d try in order to keep it all from crumbling. I never thought we’d have another Selection, but plans change when that much is demanded of you.”

“Plenty is demanded of me now,” I shot back.

“One, watch your tone,” she warned. “And two, you only see a fraction of the work. You have no idea how much pressure is placed on your father.”

I sat there, silent. I wanted to leave. If she didn’t like my tone, then why did she push me?

“Eadlyn,” she began quietly. “The timing of this happened to fall when it did. But, honestly, sooner or later I would have done something.”